I was walking with the ghost

Why Women Shave Their Legs and Underarms -

We all know the power of advertising. At the turn of the century, for example, the South African Diamond company, DeBeers, created the image that the diamond was forever and therefore would make an excellent wedding ring.

Another marketing campaign around this time convinced the women of North America to shave their body hair. Notably, women in the other parts of the world do not engage on masse in this ritual. Even in French Canada, the habit is not largely undertaken.

It all began with the May, 1915 edition of Harper's Bazaar magazine that featured a model sporting the latest fashion. She wore a sleeveless evening gown that exposed, for the first time in fashion, her bare shoulders, and her armpits.

A young marketing executive with the Wilkinson Sword Company, who also made razor blades for men, designed a campaign to convince the women of North America that:

(a) Underarm hair was unhygienic (b) It was unfeminine.

In two years, the sales of razor blades doubled as our grandmothers and great grandmothers made themselves conform to this socially constructed gender stereotype. This norm for North American women has been reinforced by several generations of daughters who role-modeled their mothers.

It doesn't end here.

A year has past and now we stand on the brink of returning to a world where we are surrounded by the paradox of everything, and yet nothing being the same.

In days we will reluctantly give our hugs and, fighting the tears, say goodbye to people who were once just names on a sheet of paper to return to people that we hugged and fought tears to say goodbye to before we ever left.

We will leave our best friends to return to our best friends.

We will go back to the places we came from and go back to the same things we did last summer and every summer before that. We will come into town on the same familiar road, and even though it has been months, it will seem like only yesterday. As you walk into your old bedroom, every emotion will pass through you as you reflect on the way your life has changed and the person you have become. You suddenly realize that the things that were most important to you a year ago don't seem to matter so much anymore, and the things you hold highest now, no one at home will completely understand.

The memories and the stories from school won't mean anything to anyone at home and yet you resent them for that, that they can't share that happiness with you.

Who will you call first? What will you do your first weekend home with your friends? How long before you actually start missing people barging in without calling or knocking? Who will get pizza at three in the morning with you now? How long until you adjust to sleeping alone in a room again?

Then you start to realize how much things have changed, and you realize the hardest part of college is balancing the two completely different worlds you now live in, trying desperately to hold on to everything all the while trying to figure out what you have to leave behind. In the matter of one day's travelling time, we will leave our world of living next door to our best friends, walking across campus to eat, instant messenger, 8:00am classes, and the perpetual procrastination to a world that will seem foreign to us despite the fact that we lived in it for eighteen years.

But it is different now. We now know the meaning of true friendship. We know who we have kept in touch with over the past year and who we hold dearest in our hearts. We've left our high school world to deal with the real world. We've had our hearts broken, we've fallen in love we've helped our best friends overcome depression, stress and death, and we've stayed up all night on the phone just to talk to a friend in need.There have been times we've felt so helpless being hours away from home when we know our families needed us, and there are times we know we have made a difference.

One month from now we will leave. One month from now we take down our pictures, and pack up our clothes. No more going next door to do nothing for hours on end. We will leave our friends whose random email and phone calls will bring us to laughter and tears this summer.

We will take our memories and dreams and put them away for now, saving them for our return to this world.

One month from now we will arrive. We will unpack our bags and have dinner with our families. We will drive over to our best friend's house and do nothing for hours on end We will return to the same friends whose random
emails and phone calls have brought us to laughter and tears over the year. We will unpack old dreams and memories that have been put away for the past year.

In one month we will dig deep inside to find the strength and conviction to adjust to change and still keep each other close. And somehow, in some way, we will find our place between these two completely different worlds.

Late (again) on my way to my last geology class, a thought struck me as i noticed the nakedness of the campus, barren of student life.

I realized that the reason i was so bothered by all those seniors graduating was that i feel a starker contrast between myself and those friends. I often forgot our class difference, as they did as well, but this is the ultimate reminder.

The graduates probably feel a thrill in the solidarity of making it four years together and finally obtaining their goal...I feel a chill. It's a selfish feeling, and i have tried to fight it as much as i can with good thoughts, but sometimes, it creeps up like a frozen mist from the well of my emotions. Every year, i have had to say goodbye to a few people, but never a huge group of friends like this one. An entire circle. It's like watching the sun set for the first time--i have a fear that circle will never brighten my world again.

Then i remember that these friends, who have touched me so much, and have helped me grow as a person...these wonderful human beings would be arriving on someone else's horizon. New people will have the opportunity to know such passion, caring, and brilliance that i have become accustomed to basking in. These friends will help the world change for the better, perhaps not in an obvious way like Mother Teresa or the Dalai Lama, but in a quiet individual and personal manner. This thought gives me so much hope for the world--each friend, who has not interacted outside the friend group for a few years, will now be separated, but each separation means an added number of people that will be touched by such a wonderful influence. Instead of one big splash with one major ripple, there are many smaller splashes about to be made, but the interaction and reach will be just as great.

The great struggle i have had over the past year or so has been with my hope for humanity. My senpai leaving me is one of simultaneous personal loss and gain. I might be parting from many friends, but my hope for humanity grows exponentially with each that strikes outside our Miami bubble, into many different spheres of influences and realities. Each realm of reality they enter, every individual's life that they come across will be brightened by a new star.

Why is it that the cynical, satirical writers are better? I think it must be a subjective view. Maybe i just don't like the feeling of being encrusted in all these ideas of purity, love, charity, and all that is good in crystallized written form. Even though i used to write like that. Rather, especially because i believed it, perhaps.

I know i can write when i feel like it. But it's always so inspirational. So full of joy, hope, and innocence. Which the other part of me goes, "uh, WHAT? First of all, you don't always believe in that. Secondly, you don't like reading that sugary shit. Third, what good does this do for the world, or for anyone that matter? Wasting energy that could be spent on helping others. Poser wannabe."

To which i respond, "Well, when i write this, it's usually for myself. A form of self-expression. I speak this all the time, given the chance. So it's not poser-y. Shut up, it's not!! It just LOOKS like that because my writing is not all that fantastic. Not to mention that i never try otherwise, so when i do make an effort due to inspiration, professors and peers alike question if the work is actually mine. And just because i don't always believe in it doesn't make me a hypocrite for writing it. When my belief in the good of humanity is faltering, THAT'S when i need to read it most. What good does it do for others? Maybe none, but maybe it will be fun for them to destroy or like what i write. So shut up, cynic me."

All my teachers throughout middle and high school thought i was going to be a writer. In fact, my middle school science teacher put me in the A.P. track for SCIENCE because i had "the earmarks of a writer." Even then, though, when i wrote, it was for the teacher and myself, not really for anyone else. Amanda's courage is incredible. I don't know if i could EVER handle peer review, because i figure they wouldn't understand anyway, and besides, i sound almost religious sometimes with my faith in Hope when i am inspired. Or i sound extremely, well...for lack of a better description and at risk of being lambasted for over-usage--emo.

I also think that my speaking to people is far more effective and wide-reaching than what i write. Maybe because i DO keep it to myself, but also, because i cannot have an intimate dialogue with an entire invisible mute audience (readers). I can't feel their reactions and feelings on my ideas, or find a better way to express/tailor them to each individual. Writing could be a selfish thing when i could be DOING. Speaking is doing to me--so much can be done by truly listening, interacting, and responding to another human being.









On an entirely different note, existence is strange. I can't elaborate at the moment; i am too...high...on new music, new ideas, and new goodbyes.

When is "I am interested in another person" or "I don't want any man touching me" not a big enough hint to BACK THE FUCK OFF???

Do i have to send him a message saying, "uh, dude, if you keep up this flirty shit we are not going to be on good terms for Korea. I feel threatened by you. Leave me the fuck alone, and realize all you are ever going to get out of me is friendship, and if you don't knock it off, you won't even get that. Don't make me be cruel."

EH? Maybe? I don't know. Hell. Really, why can't guys just GET IT? I need a boyfriend. I require that he is not wherever i would be next semester, which shouldn't be hard as THE ONLY GUY COMING WITH US IS WTF BOY. Who wants to "date" me passionately from afar? It has to be guy, as i don't think he will buy into me liking girls. I tried that already a bit. If you volunteer, i would like to show up to where he is working one day with you and look intensely in love with you for like, the minute it would take to sink it for him. If you won't do it as an immense favor for me, i will bribe you.


For fuck's sake.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU? KID

This kid will confuse the HELL out of you from day to day. One day, she's THE ANSWERING MACHINE, next the QUIET SMART SLACKER. She used to be a MUSIC MAJOR, but she randomly changes to a hard science major. She will always be to class early (THE SCOUT) unless she was THE NIGHT OWL the night before. Wears totally amazing clothes, or something so lame you wouldn't wear to sleep in. Hates the conformity of society with a passion (NON-CONFORMIST CONFORMIST), but can be seen with many different groups, more often with the ANIME FREAKS. You often can't recognize them at parties or class because of complete transformations. Good luck trying to contact her, because her spontaneity with throw you for a loop and you will never be able to find her.

Retiring the Dijon quotes to here:

DIJON QUOTES
"Yeah toast!"

"But...MAIS!"

"Je put"

"Y'all got any freedom frites?"

"Soccer...soccer...soccer...FOOT-BALL!!"

"Quoi??"

"Why eat peanutbutter when god made nutella?"


MORE QUOTES
"Better than a thousand useless words is one word that gives peace."- Buddha

amanda: tran was inquiring as to whether we were still married on facebook
amanda: and I said "no she's still mine bitch, stop trying to start shit"

"Where's your will to be weird?"

"I read you, and god I'm good at it, I'm so spot on"

"You gotta hear this one song, it'll change your life I swear..."

I slept 15 hours last night. And now it's 2:30 am and i have class at 8 am. Hmm...erratic sleeping patterns are NOT healthy.

I really really want to go sledding on these lunch trays i, uh,..."borrowed" from Bell Tower. These, rather, THIS (too much Japanese makes for funny grammar) week turns out to be the worst week for snow--everyone is too busy and tired. Hopefully it will snow again when everyone is not so crazy-busy. Then we can implement "the plan" with the proper enthusiasm. It involves giant snowballs, bridges, several people (a couple as lookouts, the rest as manual labor), trolls that live under aforementioned bridges, and a love of pranks that involve isolating fairyland.


I need to obtain 300 dollars pretty soon. I have about 100 from a paycheck that didn't include the hours at my second job, so i am hoping that the next one will have nearly enough and that all the spots open for China haven't filled. I hate being reminded of how much money our family doesn't have. I never noticed until i was surrounded by Miami kids. I can skip having a functional coat or sweaters without holes in them, particularly the left arm pit, to keep money for the application, but i hate how closely i will be cutting it. Every time it seems this way. I need to do better math. And go back to not buying my books. Turns out i really don't need them again this semester, and i can't resell that mess that is my Art book thanks to the mail service.
I am basically pondering...i guess not outloud, since this is typing not saying, but it isn't "on paper" either. Meh.

Back to lunchboarding!! In my dreams i hope, since it's now 15 minutes til 3.

ROME - It could be humanity's oldest story of doomed love. Archaeologists have unearthed two skeletons from the Neolithic period locked in a tender embrace and buried outside Mantua, just 25 miles south of Verona, the romantic city where Shakespeare set the star-crossed tale of "Romeo and Juliet."

Buried between 5,000 and 6,000 years ago, the prehistoric pair are believed to have been a man and a woman and are thought to have died young, as their teeth were found intact, said Elena Menotti, the archaeologist who led the dig.

"As far as we know, it's unique," Menotti told The Associated Press by telephone from Milan. "Double burials from the Neolithic are unheard of, and these are even hugging."

The burial site was located Monday during construction work for a factory building in the outskirts of Mantua. Alongside the couple, archaeologists found flint tools, including arrowheads and a knife, Menotti said.

Experts will now study the artifacts and the skeletons to determine the burial site's age and how old the two were when they died, she said.

Luca Bondioli, an anthropologist at Rome's National Prehistoric and Ethnographic Museum, said double prehistoric burials are rare — especially in such a pose — but some have been found holding hands or having other contact.

The find has "more of an emotional than a scientific value." But it does highlight how the relationship people have with each other and with death has not changed much from the period in which humanity first settled in villages and learning to farm and tame animals, he said.

"The Neolithic is a very formative period for our society," he said. "It was when the roots of our religious sentiment were formed."

The two bodies, which cuddle closely while facing each other on their sides, were probably buried at the same time, possibly an indication of sudden and tragic death, Bondioli said.

"It's rare for two young people to die at the same time, and that makes us want to know why and who they were, but it will be very difficult to find out."

He said DNA testing could determine whether the two were related, "but that still leaves other hypotheses; the 'Romeo and Juliet' possibility is just one of many."
-Ariel David, Associated Press writer

http://news.yahoo.com/photos/ss/events/sc/020607skeletonshug/im:/070206/ids_photos_wl/r3474172681.jpg;_ylt=Ag1IlrkAtFnvbRG.xzUH1HLlWMcF

So, with glasses on they think i look like men that wear glasses, or Japanese women. Uh, sure.





But take off the glasses, and apparently i look like all those blond girls running around Hollywood. Go freakin' figure.

MWF classes:
8- Geology of National Parks (yeah i know, an 8 am, but i WENT...once)
11- Japanese 302
12-2- Geology Lab
2-3:10- Chinese 102

TR classes/work:
9-11- work
11-12:15- Japanese Painting
2-3:15- Japanese Linguistics
3:15-5 work

W:
6:30-8 pm- Contemporary Ballet with Kim, a REAL ballerina. This is going to be funny. For her.

I will wear my feather 'hawk and say simply, let the dancing begin.

I am dragging two people with me to Korea already. Kim from Japanese AND NATALIE!!!


Heehee, i am evil.

I was thinking on the way home...What it is that entranced me about watching Manda( H.) sew? Why wasn't i so entranced by Amanda (C.) crocheting? And then i realized what usually so captured me with Amanda was her storytelling.

I think whenever i find myself enveloped in an attack of the warm fuzzies, a person is putting so much of themselves into whatever it is that they care about, that it just makes me happy.

Manda, for example: her clothing is something she really takes care of; she puts a lot of effort and love into making shirts or leg warmers, or carefully picking out outfits and searching for the perfect skirt in one of the stores. Especially when she speaks of Japan while she does it. She doesn't have the self-consciousness to cut herself short or the bitterness to end it abruptly with how America sucks (not that i don't agree). Her love of Japanese culture shines through unfiltered then.

Thinking about Amanda telling stories finally illuminated what draws me to certain things people do. When people tell stories, they use mostly the colors available in the situation to illustrate the tale. Amanda, however, she paints with her whole spirit involved, and her colors tint the whole thing beautiful shades. While it isn't exactly a true-to-life rendition of what occurred, that doesn't bother me. I just love to bask in her vibrant scenes.

The same is true for when Jenny draws, or Kim dances, or Lisa stands up for the people of Tibet or those she loves, or when she is being a clown. When Brandon speaks Spanish or talks about his beloved Argentina, and when Glenn plays or sings any music, or Adam works on a paper about Buddhism, and Laura brightens the mood with her wonderful humor, i could just fall over with happiness. Just wallow in it. In fact, if you all did that at once, i would cry. I really would. The passion emanating from that many people at once would just blow me away. I'm tickled just thinking about it.

What further tickles me about it is that none of them are aware how much they shine when they are doing those things. They just look up at me, catch me staring with wonder at them, and ask if i am alright. HA! Alright?? Just know that i am admiring you, but forget it quickly. The lack of being self-conscious when exuding that passion is part of the glorious charm of it.

You all warm my soul, from nose to tootsies. And the thought kept me warm all the walk home.

What were we thinking??

If i thought too much, i wouldn't do crazy shit. How boring that would be.

My cell phone is in its final death throes. Kim was calling it bat phone earlier because it can flap like something with wings. And now, hilariously, the screen on the front that usually tells time says T-Mobile...upside-down. The Motorola M is missing, but that is an old injury.

Sometimes it rings, sometimes it just flaps its useless wings. I have heard you can recycle cell phones...i am tempted to instead find some interesting way to destroy it in one fell swoop.

Any suggestions? Get creative, because i know that you guys have the greatest and most perturbed minds for this. GO!!!

My entire being resonates with it. Once i figure it out, i will move this potential to kinetic.

I have discovered that i do perfectly fine on my own.

i will admit, i am afraid of storms. that's why i am so weather-crazy. best to know the most about what one is afraid of, right?

Jenny and i decided it's definitely the thunder that is scariest. That and i am always having nightmares about tornadoes. i do anthropomorphize things a bit too much i suppose.

Here's to interesting nightmares!

PS i am taking charge of this weird time being WAY off in livejournal posts...thing...yep.

Livejournal is not a good medium for this, but at the moment, this is the best place for it. I will maybe just go tackle some random person to get my long needed fix of a philosophical discussion without the ancient philosophers possessing some poor college students who can't rid their bodies of these opinion stifle-ers. Goddamned books. Any time i mention something of this nature, it turns into a dry discussion of what a long dead MAN thought of the subject. Where the hell did your own voices go? I will exorcise these dusty-paged demons from your minds so that you can think independently!!


Not to knock higher learning, just...sometimes, shed your fancy clothing and think au naturel.



An edit: So i did just that, only the random person was Scott. I will begin with those who sit next to me! Be warned!!!