just when you think your life has finally come into fruition; that everything you wanted is aligned, you realize how selfish and unpredictable the world you've come to cherish has become. a little girl i used to baby sit died this morning. a brain tumour: i think she was 16 years old.

reality checks set in hard when you've become so far removed from the real world.

Between getting the overwhelming sensation to never leave my house again, and gaining insight into Bosnian war crimes trials, the CBC brought to my attention something wonderful: Stuff White People Like.

This is probably the funniest find I have made as of late. I am dismayed and somewhat delighted to announce that a good 90% of what is on that list factor into my personal enjoyment with ease -- Especially: Having Gay Friends; Grammar; Arts Degrees; Farmers Markets; and Arrested Development.

So while I will never be able to go on a bus again without the sincere fear that I will be hacked to bits by a copy cat passer by, I can at least bask in my computer's glow and truly chuckle about how it is so white of me to be shitting my pants and hoping my mom knows that I love her anytime I want to travel.

Generica!

So, yesterday was the first time in about five years that I have gone to the beach and been seen in public in a bathing suit. Before I launch into the rest, I'm really avoiding the urge to get all women's magazine on this shit. This is not a feel good editorial about how you should love your body, and it will not be followed with a recipe for tasty -- but low fat -- lemon-cran muffins. While that does sound mouth watering, I cannot tolerate it: there is nothing that irritates me more an a woman's generic story about how one day she had an epiphany about body image, self esteem and learned to adore what she has. While, hey, maybe this does happen to some people, the baby making you abandon your body hatred, a man reassuring you that you are splendid looking, I resist the belief that any sort of self appreciation, the kind that makes you re-evaluate your life at least, should be based upon a happiness that you draw from someone else.

All while at the beach, I got to thinking about how it is probably odd that I don't have low self esteem, or hate myself in any real way. Sure, I had a long, drawn out stretch during my first year of university where I did not enjoy who I was in any stretch of the imagination. But, growing from that period, and re-evaluating what it was that I was experiencing has really lead me to believe that I am genuinely good enough. That probably makes me sound like an asshole, but I've come to terms with the fact that for some ridiculous reason, outwardly thinking that you are enough; that who you are is what you actually need, makes you seem as if you lack any credit and are a straight up liar. I can't really find a happy medium with this thought that lands between "Generic Women's Personal Power Piece," and "Arrogant Douche Bag" safely.

But, despite that, while I was wading the in water, by myself, I couldn't help but recognize that what I was doing was a pretty big thing -- for a lot of people. I, in fact, manage to really love my body, (despite the lack of approval from others, which is why I never attend the sandy shores of P.E. to begin with, but that is an entirely different posting.) and how it came from the ongoing disapproval from other people that made me appreciate what I look like. Sure, all day everyday isn't a "SUPER-HAPPY-LOVE-ME-FEST," but most of the time, I think i'm a'ight.

This may be some of the rambling, circular things I was talking about in my previous post. But maybe it's not. Maybe it's a little important. Or, it mimics masturbation and I'm really just pleasing my ever growing ego. Whichever, at least I feel good about myself,and have some sort of satisfaction at the end.

I have decided to change the direction of my blog into something more personal [probable outcome: boring musings of my life]. I will probably write things as I did before, but it's not like Port is a budding centre of inspiration or enlightenment, so I've found attempts for discussion on media/culture difficult. These will probably be best served when I'm back at school and a) more motivated and b) stimulated intellectually. So, all and all, I'm changing gears. It's not like anyone reads this religiously anyway, [edit: holla to greg and Julien, you my boys] so I'll do whatever I want. Just wait for the boring musings and circular questions I've got up my sleeve. I can feel the anticipation growing already.

19: Reason Number 678,099 that I am a Women's Studies Student

We are more than this.

Congratulations to the Grey-Bruce area. We've made PerezHilton.com. Why? Because of sexism. We are an area of great generosity, beautiful landscape and history. But, we are the internet sensation of the day because of the blatant intolerance that still manages to linger in the area.

It brings me an incredible amount of satisfaction and pride knowing that so many people here are speaking out against this discrimination and putting their money where their mouths are. I do not have the words to express the amount of hope that I have that this will finally open up some kind of dialog about the discrimination that exists here.

We can't keep pushing it under the rug.

18

http://fishki.net/comment.php?id=32304

Above is a link that has been graciously provided to me by my dear friend Daniella. It is a Korean art project that takes children's doodles and turns them into photographs. I have no commentary on this currently, beyond the fact that it is FANTASTIC!

Feel the warmth friends.

17

On Thursday, I went to go see a pre-screening of Iron Man at my friendly local movie theatre. I went into the film with mixed emotions. I went in knowing that the likelihood of my previous experience with action movies would probably reign true: glorified racism, sexism – pretty much any ism would be alive and well. But, the trailer was badass. What was a girl to do?

I went in thinking that I would probably feel as if I had been robbed of the $8.00 admission price, $3.50 for a trough of diet coke, and the two hours of my life that the film was going to cost me. After seeing my 22 year old cousin leave Spiderman 3 with more sadness and deep melancholy than a 3rd grader whose puppy had just died, I was looking for retribution, something to make up for all of the disappointments I had seen previously. And, I am happy to report that Iron Man delivered. It was entertaining. Just enough violence, a hint of love story, clever dialogue: Iron Man is the most palatable Marvel film I’ve seen yet.


With all of this said, the reasons why I enjoyed the film parallel the reasons why the film offended me. Because it follows that tried and true format of the action film. Americans, good. Enemies of America, bad. I am getting damn tired of seeing Arab people as not only a) the perpetrators of all that is terrible and evil in the cinematic world and b) seeing the general population portrayed in a manner that results in them in need of a heroic and strapping young white American lad to come in and save them from their fellow citizens turned macho terrorists. Is this just reflecting the ridiculous climate that the American public has been thrust into?: yes. Movies are great indicators of what the political climate of the era it was shot in.

I am aware that when I go see this sort of movie, I am going to be watching the enemy of the week on the screen, doing their dastardly duty. But, I’m getting to a point of exhaustion watching this regurgitated crap over and over again. Action movies need villains. Good. Great. But the complete lack of ingenuity is beginning to piss me off more and more.

Are you even trying anymore Hollywood? Why not try to spice things up, and pick some other enemy to dominate with phallic weapons and absurd bravado? The Bush administration has plenty of enemies: environmentalists, the endangered species that aren’t cute OR cuddly, left wing college students. Take your pick.

Obviously, I’m not trying to make the fact that we unfairly reduce Middle Eastern people to the binaries of terrorist and peasant a joke. I’m just attempting to point out that when you’ve boiled the people involved in a complicated and unjust situation to two categories, it is inane and ridiculous. Clearly this portrayal keeps happening because the viewing public either doesn’t realize that this is happening or doesn’t care.

There is a formula here because the formula works. But, why don’t we give ourselves more credit than that and actively seek something better?