A Revolution; Late Night on Strike

The wealth gap in America is currently more than the wealth gap observed in France during the French Revolution. This being problematic and telling how history historically repeats itself if the lesson is not learned the first time. As money is a deciding factor of what people are willing to endure at work, this is pertinent when discussing the physical and emotional labor associated with minimum wage jobs. Within 1770s France, the French people were upset as they were starving and the french elites were afforded the luxury of food, water, and other riches. This is not far off from today as the American lower class is forced to work multiple jobs, not afforded safe drinking water (Flint Michigan), and is susceptible to food insecurity. Within the hours that individuals put in, they are forced to work in a capitalistic society that nickles and dimes the fuck out of their workers. 

Being A Girl: Exhausting Edition

Growing up my whole life, I was always a very tiny girl: I wore XXS until my freshmen year of high school. I had always been very active playing softball, basketball, and soccer. But no matter what I did I couldn’t seem to figure out how to put on some weight. My comment about not being able to put on weight will push at least 10 people reading this to think “She’s so lucky why is she complaining about being skinny?”. And as most of you would think that wouldn’t bother anyone, but it did and I became so insecure about my weight that I started to destroy my own mental health because of it. In my personal opinion, it is just as rude to make comments about how skinny someone is then making comments about how big a girl is. My whole life I’ve constantly been reminded how lucky I was and was never even thought to be given credit for working out, playing sports, and maintaining the fast metabolism I was born with. I felt like people rather than promoting me for staying healthy and maintaining a body I felt comfortable in , I was constantly made feel bad because other girls wished they looked like me. I realized how insecure I became once guys started making comments about it. My new nickname around school became skeletore. I was laughed at because all of my clothes were too big and didn’t flatter my boobs or butt which is what guys wanted because their hormones were raging. I went on eating binges where I would eat 2 meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner just praying I would somehow put on weight and feel happy with myself again. My parents quickly shut that down and constantly reminded me that everyone is their own type of beautiful and there is nothing wrong with being a skinnier girl.

Growing up as the Chubby Kid

When you grow up as the chubby kid you constantly face many more challenges then the skinny kids. As a female who was bigger than many of the other females you constantly get teased and picked on. I vividly remember the terrible names the boys would call out as I walked the halls. I remember throwing away half of my lunch because I was deathly afraid of people seeing me eat. I would skip lunch too on most days hoping I would lose weight. I was around 12 years old praying that I would lose weight. No 12 year old should be so consumed with their weight the way that I was. Along with the challenges of bullying at school, it carried on into my home life.

Do I Deserve My Body?

TW: Disordered eating, mental illness, body image issues

Mental illness is one of the body’s worst enemies

I’ve never been good at taking care of my body. Which was fine, I guess, when I was a kid. I rarely ate anything because I was a picky eater, I hated brushing my teeth because it was boring, and I quit almost every sport I played because, well… I wasn’t good at them. The only kind of exercise I got was from my gym class and my dance classes. Even then, I told myself I was going to quit almost every year.

But, whatever, I was a kid. Kids do stupid things. They’ll grow out of it, right?

I never really did. All these things turned into habits and routines that are hard to break. And now I’m afraid to try new things. Is this because of the depression and anxiety that runs in my family? Or did I develop anxiety because I never try anything new? Probably a combination of both.

in which i learn not to destroy my body for school, and promptly forget that lesson when we come back to being in-person

content warning: discussion of self-destructive behavior; mentions of eating disorder, transphobia, and sexual harassment

In Fall of 2019, my sophomore year, I took 22 credits and I got straight As except for a B in French 103 but that’s ok it’s for a GEP and I don’t really need French anyway so I got straight As that’s what matters. Actually 3 of those credits were for my production called Girls on a Dirt Pile that rehearsed every weeknight for 3.5 hours and then for 5 hours a night during tech week and we had performances so that class should have probably been more than 3 credits just to show that we did the work and I should have had a heating pad for my hips when I got home because the movement irritated old injuries but I didn’t have a heating pad and I had to do homework anyway so I stayed in pain and I stayed exhausted because I was sleeping maybe 3 hours a night and nobody ever saw me without a large coffee in my hand, and one time I was so tired that I forgot my name and started crying in Vocal class and when Cole saw me later he told me I looked lost and had to convince me to go home and nap instead of going to Stagecraft so that I would be able to have a productive rehearsal later. But I got straight As except for French and the show was awesome (except for when one of the actors broke her foot because the set designers didn’t consider that we would need stairs to get off a platform even though we had asked for stairs when we saw the skinny slippery metal bar we we supposed to use as a step, but we got stairs after Anna broke her foot and later I yelled at our department head in a TheatreCOM meeting about negligence and safety because broken bones are not ok and now the faculty has a safety committee) and I was Fine.

Don’t you know its rude to stare?

content warning: mention of rape and sexual assault

In this last year, I became more conscious of the male gaze in my life than I ever had before. I felt that the men around me saw me only as a projection of their sexual desire or as a figure of feminine comfort, and I couldn’t shake the constant feeling of being observed. In my struggle to assert my personhood, without being objectified, I felt paralyzed. If I wore a short shirt and crop top, I was hot, sexy, something to be desired, but if I covered up to avoid being sexualized, I was hiding from their gaze, cowering. If I was kind and empathetic, I was the girl next door, someone to take care of them, but if I was rude or blunt, I was a bitch. I felt lost. Alone I was safe, but the world of men held “the threat of being seen,” as Young described it (154).

How to Become Your Own Person: A Guide

Short answer–I don’t know.

The long answer would extensive and it would be dark. I don’t want this to be dark. Maybe I’ll add some exclamation points (“I don’t want this to be dark!”) as a goofy, offsetting mood changer, like all exclamation points are.

But, let’s get back on track! (See?)

Sorry for sleeping in class

Average amount of college students at most get a good 4-5 hours of sleep and I lack all 4-5 hours almost every single day. From all my stem classes, soccer, video games, and girls that don’t want me that I waste my time on I get zero sleep. 
Let’s start off with school which takes up 50% of my life unfortunately. As a biology major I’m stressed out 90% of the time which will  probably be the reason I go bald before my 30s. If I go bald due to the stress of school I might just drop out. I know it sounds superficial but I will literally have to start wearing wigs for men in order to be out in public. 
With the little free time I have soccer and video games take up about 30% of my time. To be honest soccer stresses me out the same amount of school, but it’s the good kind of stress, you know? It’s a good way to escape from school and everything else. I also picked up basketball as a new activity, but it’s not going so great, I slightly suck. Following soccer is video games and helps me forget that I have bills to pay which is another quick escape great for the soul. 
Followed with my last stresser, women. Women take up 20% of my time, split between 15% friendship and 5% romantic. As you can see my romantic life is basically at a zero, but that 5% wasted might as well be the whole 100%. I just want a girlfriend and I’m starting to think it’s impossible to get one, but I’m grateful for all the female friends I have. Hopefully one of them will fall in love with me. 
This is just a quick glimpse into my nonsense of a life. Moral of the story is I apologize for sleeping in class and it won’t happen again. I’ll make sure to get a full eight hours every Sunday and Tuesday nights.

Does Chronic Illness = Disability?

For about six years, I have suffered from chronic migraines. With it being an ailment that has run in my family, I knew it was coming, and yet still underestimated the overwhelming impact it would have on my life. The way the pain can shape shift into different forms; one day being a throbbing ache behind the eyes, to another being an unbearable pressure at the temples. The way it has tainted everyday pleasures, from coffee, to concerts, to even the weather. Even now, with them being somewhat controlled by daily medication, I still dread the rain and what the air pressure brings (the answer is a migraine, if that wasn’t clear).

Fascination with the Disembodied

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Faceless content creators Corpsehusband, dream, and Ranboo have gained massive popularity on the internet

disembodied voices have always been something that’s intrigued and maybe  even scared people. One of the earliest examples being the radio show war of the worlds which when first preformed caused panic as they believed that aliens were taking over. From the days of radio to modern day faceless content creators there has always been a particular fascination with the idea of appearance when the connection between voice and body are severed.