BlogaVlogmas Day 2: Ratios

For most of my youth, my friends have consisted of mostly guys. I was much more of a tomboy back in the days when my muscle mass was about equal to the average smaller-than-average boy my age. I could kick serious butt at handball, was a fearless jungle gym climber, and was a pretty fast sprinter (fie to 23andMe for saying my SNPs reveal an "unlikely sprinter"). Although I wasn't completely devoid of girl friends, if I had to choose, guys were just easier to get along with. There weren't any politics or backstabbing or tears and they didn't care how I was dressed or what my hair was doing that day. (Neither did I, so it was a great relationship.)

At the end of middle school, when everyone except me grew two feet and started being awkward because of body changes, I resisted conforming to girl world. It may have been that I was still super awkward and looked like I came out of a hard day's work at the mines, but I still think that boys were less judgmental of how I acted because I was a such a bro.

Then I learned how to dress myself. And started living with girls. And started connecting with lady-folk through excessive fan-girling and cuddles. And that's when things got tricky.

Because now that we're "adults" there are these functions that don't quite work out if you don't have a date. Like Winter Formals where all you do is waltz. Of course, you can go with all your girl friends, but for dances where the partners have very specific gender-encoded steps, it's difficult to do without, well, men. You could argue that the partners don't have to be of different genders, etc. etc. and that is absolutely true. But if you've been taught the waltz from your perspective, it's hard to switch it up when it's "just us girls." You have to make sure that you've got enough guy friends to make it work and it's just all complicated when it doesn't work out because somebody has to dance with a stranger. 

I'm not at all sure where this is going, but I think the moral has to be: in grad school, with groups of friends, ratios matter. Not only in terms of having different perspectives and conversation topics, but in terms of waltzing logistics. I feel a bit obligated to say that it's not necessarily a gender thing. It's a "who's leading" thing. If you've got enough people to lead and enough to follow, you're golden. You just better make sure everyone will be there.

BEDUS Day 6: Picture Day and Typhoon Relief (Daily Theme 2!)

Today, I took my picture for the senior class yearbook and as I was tilting my head in the opposite direction of my body, I realized that this may well be the last yearbook picture I ever take. Sure, I'll have my cap and gown picture after grad school, but I'll never have the "candid" school photo in front of the blue background that I won't be able to use for a passport picture ever again. I know that some people hate picture day, and really any kind of ceremony, but I've never been one of those people. I like to relish the specialness of things because I really am too sentimental for my own good. So I won't lie: the thought of this being my last formal picture in my last semester in college gave me pause. It also made the fact of my senior year in college so much more real and when it was over, it did make me a little sad. So will I be spending absurd amounts of money on these pictures in two weeks time? Probably.

I also danced for a Typhoon Relief Concert and ohmygoodness my body hurts so much. I've never done ribbon cold before, and I definitely should have practiced yesterday because at this moment, I can barely move my arms and neck. Even getting back to my room was a struggle and trying to eat was especially painful. But I'm in a nice comfy spot now, earphones in, avoiding the raging party currently going on in my common room. The ribbon dance I did inspired me to take on another daily theme, so here we go.

Daily Theme 2

Adopt a roving point of view and make a moving picture. You will need to decide how to establish the point of view. What does moving allow you to see that standing still doesn’t? What does it keep you from seeing?


The Stage


Shakespeare once said that the world is a stage, but for five minutes, the stage is my world. I can feel the grains of the wood beneath my feet as I step forwards, backwards, the lights hot against my face, obscuring my vision. The crowd is only a blur in front of me; they tell you to focus on one person during your performance, to make eye contact and to not let go, but when you're flowing across your world, trying to connect with every stranger in the sea of people, it's hard to recognize even your best friend. So I let my ribbons lead me instead.

People don't realize the dancing is as much of an act as acting. The face is incredibly important. A look in the wrong place can lead to a break in character. So when I dance in an ensemble, I see only through my peripheral vision. Flashes of chiffon jackets, moments of silk fans, the twirl of a ponytail that disappears in the next moment as I do my turn. For those few minutes, you must appear connected to the ensemble, but realize that it is impossible to actually see anyone if you are to appear as connected as you want the audience to think. As you fly across the stage, you envision the spot where you are to land, but to look at said spot shatters the illusion of whimsy, and as such, your eyes stare unblinkingly into nothing, past the audience, into the wings, too focused on the moment and unfocused on actually seeing anything.

When I dance a ribbon solo, however, I let my ribbons take over. The audience loves the ribbons as they are graceful, yet powerful, and as I spin across the stage, I cannot help but be enamored by them as well. They billow and swirl and in an instant, all I see is red, flowing, romantic, vibrant red. For five minutes, as I dance across my world, they are my sky, my earth, and my air. They follow me. And I follow them.



Note: I realize, after writing this, that what I wrote may not exactly follow the prompt, but hey, inspiration hits where it will. And...I'm not in the class. So there you go.

Chewing Gum: Thoughts about Cold Days and Police Raids

Today was one of those days where you think, "Ahh. This is fall. Autumn is finally here." It was a day where the clouds were tinted with gray, but the bright blue of the sky peeked through where it could, where the trees rustled with the chilly breeze, and the air was just cold enough to feel clean. You could feel the deep breath in your lungs, cleansing, and while a fall coat is too warm, a thin, summer jacket just can't cut it. Do I regret sleeping away the last sunny day of the week? Not really. It's the weekend. I needed the break. Especially after Friday night.

~~

Morse/Stiles Screw. Police brutality. I wasn't there but plenty of people have plenty to say about the situation. "The police were doing jobs, but it was a bit much." "The police were shoving people willy-nilly and cursing at them." "It was scary."

From my perspective, my unknowing perspective, I can imagine that the police were a perhaps a bit too aggressive, but that Yale students, especially drunk Yale students, may have caused a bit of trouble. It's a hard thing to give up your arrogance, particularly when you don't respect those conducting the authoritative search of your belongings. The being said, I have no idea what happened. From the bits and pieces I saw online (including the video), there was a lot of fear and sweat going on in that crowded (58% over-capacity!) club and I'm glad I was not involved in the situation.

~~ A bit of levity and some pie baking!

 Excitement at finding butter!!!

 Ready to roll.

 Peeling an apple...

 The longest apple peel I got.

 Final Product! A is for Apple! (Of course)

We served it to some people playing Indian Poker. Omar won lots of lollipops.