Day 207 of 365: Girl/Woman

I've made a very small, subtle, but important change in my life.


I've stopped calling all females over the age of 18 "girls".


I was noticing this when I was editing my first manuscript. How, even though I was writing about twentysomethings coming to grips with the real world, I was using the word "girl" constantly. Some would say that's perfectly fine: I mean, isn't it on the same level as "guy"? Guys and gals, guys and girls. Why not?


You don't need to know what the Sapir-Whorf Hypothesis is -- shit, you don't even have to have ever taken a semantics class before -- to know that language shapes thought. Preclude a video by saying, "In this video, a car will bump another car," and they audience will see the accident differently than if you had said, "In this video, a car will crash into another car." Make the tiniest change in your verbiage and you go from people disagreeing with you to agreeing with you. Say something is "over 200 years old" and you'll get a more impressed response than if you had said something is, "almost 250 years old".


Language shapes thought, plain and simple. It's why "semantics" is a thing in the first place. And there's a problem with the idea that "guys" and "girls" are on the same level -- any that's because they're not.


At the end of the day, "girl" is incredibly infantile. You think cutesy. You think non-threatening. You think someone who cannot fully fend for herself yet.


Don't believe me? Take a second to read these two sentences and try to see what image pops into your mind when you do: "The girl picked up her phone and said, 'Hello.'"


"The woman picked up her phone and said, 'Hello.'"


If you're not being stubborn and attempting to keep both images identical, you can't help but see the first sentence in a much more passive light. Maybe she's gingerly holding her phone. Maybe she's tensing up her shoulders that way little kids do when they talk to an adult on the phone. Maybe she's saying, "Hello," in a slightly higher pitch. On the flipside, maybe that woman picks up her phone just a little bit differently. Maybe you imagined her answering her phone in that annoyed way we all do when we're busy with something important and just can't be bothered.


And what is the girl wearing? How about the woman?


At the end of the day, "girl" is not on the same level as "guy". It's not a casual way of referencing someone. It's a subtle shift in semantics that can have some serious effects.


I know it's these very things that make people roll their eyes and go, "Ugh. Feminists." Like I'm two blog posts away from burning my bras (which would never happen; there are few agonies quite like free-balling when you're a chesty lady). But these are the very things we have to keep on eye out for. We can avoid the Mac truck barrelling down the highway with his horns blaring. But can we avoid all the subtle cracks in the road that will eventually pop one of our tires off?


Language shapes thought. Thought shapes actions. End of story.


And maybe you're reaching the end of this rant and are still rolling your eyes so hard that the tendons are starting to strain. But I will say, from personal experience, I've already noticed a change, replacing "girl" with "woman". I can already feel that separation from the pro-infantilizing attitude that is so pervasive in our culture that we don't even realize it's happening. I feel more empowered, and I see the women around me as more empowered.


And you don't need a dissertation on linguistic relativity to recognize that what works, works, and it's worth giving it a second of your time.

Day 206 of 365: Strong is the New Skinny

There is this incredible trend going on, and I hope to God it continues on, to the point that it's the only message when I have children.


"Strong is the new skinny."


I grew up in the same world the rest of us grew up in: a world where a woman's worth was based on how skinny she can make herself. In a way, I lucked out: sometime after I transitioned out of adolescence and teenagehood, there was this sudden uptick in this absurd mentality. Now we have thigh gaps -- this weird ideal where your thighs don't touch when you stand straight up (fun fact: I haven't had a "thigh gap" since puberty, and I was a scrawny little creature for most of my teenaged years). Then there's this hipbone craze, which culminated in the most effective trolling I have ever seen in my entire life, "bridge gap".


Some people have already heard of the bridge gap: the idea is that a woman is so skinny that, when she lies down, her hip bones jut out, creating a "bridge" with the waist of her pants. What people don't know is that this new ideal was created by -- who else -- the lovely folks who visit 4chan and decided to see what would happen if they put this concept out into the world.


We have become so messed up in our society that we took an obvious trolling ruse and made it genuine. And for what? To tell people they can buy all these new products to lose more weight?


A funny thing happened when I took up distance running on top of teaching tai chi and upping my game in yoga: I gained 10 pounds. It's funny how negative the connotation of that statement is. I gained 10 pounds. Say that at a cocktail party and you'll have your friends clicking their tongues and reassuring you that it's going to be okay and sharing their diet plans with you.


But, man, I loved it. I gained 10 pounds -- ten pounds of muscle. I put on my running leggings and my legs looks like they could be transplanted onto any professional athlete and no one would see a difference. I have abs so strong that I can lift my legs into a headstand without any "kicking off" on my part. I can do a full pull-up for the first time in my life. I can drop and give you twenty and only start hating life around push-up 15.


I love it. I love feeling like I am capable of so much more now. I love feeling like I could better push a car out of a ditch or pick up a heavy dog or help carry that heavy thing from one place to another. I love feeling like, if I needed to, I could dash 5 miles to the nearest hospital or safety spot or whatever it is that I need to dash 5 miles to. I feels incredible. I am so thankful for that extra 10 pounds of weight.


Strong is the new skinny. And may it stay that way. It's the first step toward a healthier way of living life. Fuck the bridge gap. Give me the iron bridge.

Day 205 of 365: Overdose

A New York Times article came out recently, saying that, in Massachusetts alone, over 185 people have overdosed and died on heroin in the last 4 months. That's over 46 people a month. Bordering on nearly two people a day. In the tiny state of Massachusetts.


I can rattle off the names of three people I went to high school with that have overdosed and died. One of them was a high school boyfriend's twin brother. Another was a middle school friend's younger sister from the grade below us. The third was someone from my graduating class that I didn't know personally.


And I can guarantee you that there are more; those are just the ones I have heard about.


To call it a rampant issue is an understatement. It makes no sense that the "En Memoriam" part of my graduating class would be this long before the 10-year reunion ever takes place. Makes no sense at all. People used to joke that Weymouth was a "drinking town with a soccer problem". Now we're a heroin town with an overdosing problem.


Addiction is a very sore spot for me. I've seen a lot of good lives ruined because of addiction. I've seen a lot of talented artists die in their prime due to addiction (the latest being the late Philip Seymour Hoffman). I've seen firsthand what addiction can and will do. And it's not pretty. It's never pretty.


So what is the first step forward? The first step forward is actually decriminalizing drugs. It seems counterintuitive, but that's the first step forward. Russell Brand recently published an essay that will better articulate why, but I'll try my best to sum up the reason. When you ban drugs, when you make drugs illegal, all you are doing is telling the addicts, "On top of being an addict, you are also a criminal." Banning drugs doesn't curtail drug use. It just burdens the court system, it just burns tax dollars, it just overloads the police force. Decriminalize drugs (notice that I don't just say, "legalize"; semantics is a wonderful thing), remove that burden from the police, the courts, our tax dollars, and focus that energy on rehabilitation. Focus that money on more federal funding for rehab centers. Focus that energy on helping those who are susceptible. Send out the message that you're not a bad person because you're an addict; you're just someone who needs help and treatment.


It's sometimes tough for me to wrap my mind around the addiction issue. To say I live a clean life is a bit of an understatement. But that doesn't mean I think less of those who fall into that trap. I'm just tired of hearing about yet another person who dies before they hit 30 because of an overdose.

Day 204 of 365: Writing Snags

So, remember that little blurb I wrote a while back, about "How to Plan a Perfect Wedding"? I had been holding onto that essay, trying to find the perfect time to submit it. I know it makes me sound egotistical, but I know that essay had "viral" written all over it. Maybe not half a million shares viral, but at least 4 or 5 thousand shares viral. It had beat, it had poetry, and -- most importantly -- it pandered to the masses in a way that would make people want to share it with others.


(Seriously, why do you think the majority of essays that litter Facebook are things like, "17 BBFs Totally Do!" or "Marriage Is Not For Me!")


So I submit it, and it gets accepted, and it gets published ... as a list.


Not only that, but they change the title to properly list-ify it, and the preview blurb contains only one sentence. And it just so happens to be the one sentence that makes my essay look genuine and not sarcastic.


This isn't exactly the first time I've had issues with how Thought Catalog edits my stuff. From horrifically crappy preview texts to changing titles on me to pairing a very serious essay with very fluffy stock photos (which I would then get emails about, as if TC is some blog that I can totally just edit willy-nilly). And while it was frustrating recognizing that, while they didn't have the time to edit out a spelling or grammatical error, they did have the time to dumb down my essay, I let it pass. In a perfect world, writers would get the exact platform they needed with 100% control. But I don't and I can't. My little blog does not exact get the same traffic that Thought Catalog does. Nothing on this or my craft's page will ever go viral in the way things on TC can go viral.


However, timing is always incredible: the day they published my essay in such a format was the day I got an email back from another website about a different essay. They loved what I had written, but asked for a few changes before they could publish it. I was over the moon -- not only was there another website interested in my work, but they weren't going to just change my work on me. They wanted me to still have that control, even if they were the ones guiding it.


It's just a weird evolution. I went from a writer desperate to get anyone to listen to what I had to say to becoming particular about who I say what I have to say to. I remember reading Thought Catalog and wondering if I'd ever have the chutzpah to submit. And now I'm looking at other websites and going, "Maybe it's not as difficult as I thought it would be."


I still love Thought Catalog, and I still plan to submit things to them, but I believe yesterday was a bit of a wake-up call. It's time to diversify my portfolio, in a sense. So, first thing's first: time to edit up that essay and submit it back.

Day 203 of 365: What Built Us Up Will Tear Us Down

Society is a crazy thing.


The Ukraine has been making the news as of late. The protests that have been going on for months are finally reaching the Western world, and people are paying attention. In Latin America, Venezuela is undergoing almost the exact same transformation: a corrupt government killing its peaceful protesters. Factor all of this in with the civil war in Syria, the bloodshed in the Republic of Congo, and the increasing unrest about 15 other countries (not to mention the feeling like First World America/European Union is two cracks away from crumbling), and you can't help but wonder how much longer modern society has left.


Unfortunately, it is kind of inevitable. Every dystopian writer talks about the folly of mankind and how it eventually serves as our destruction. It is what it is: we are selfish, short-sighted, aggressive, territorial, ego-centric. We are immediately distrustful of those we deem outsiders and we're quick to hoard our resources, even if it harms us in the long run.


The funny thing is, however, that it is those very traits that gave us the modern world in the first place. The very reason we have technology and advancements in medicine and climate-controlled homes and so on is because, at the root of it all, we are all those negative things. Are ancestors first and foremost survived because they were the most brutal. As the centuries progressed, human beings started creating things because they not only wanted to survive, but they wanted to survive better than that douchebag in the other tribe. America scrambled to build and improve its space program purely because they fucking hated that Sputnik made orbit before they could ever put something in space. Business expand and evolve and thrive because we are so cutthroat competitive. We are never satisfied, always in want of more power and more resources. And, through that, we have laptops and cell phones and an absurd selection of food at the grocery store.


The very things that helped build what we have now will be the same things that eventually tear it down. It's incredibly beautiful, if you think about it.


I have a skewed sense of the world, I know, but it's a viewpoint that helps me take in all the insanity, all the pain and bloodshed and all the passive, fragile beauty, and recognize that it's all one big, multi-dimensional piece of artwork. And maybe it's easier for me to take that step back and admire the whole of Earth's story because I'm not currently ducking bullets or mourning the abduction of my son by a guerilla army. And I might be singing a completely different song if everything falls by the wayside tomorrow and I'm suddenly clawing for basic survival. But, until then, I'm going to marvel at the incredible rise and potential fall of modern society. No wonder so many novels touch upon this topic. I'm hard pressed to think of a better storyline.

Day 202 of 365: Second Wind

If I haven't said it enough, I'll say it again: sometimes it's really tough to keep up with this blog.


You'd think, after over 200 days, I would get into my rhythm and this would be almost unconscious by now. But, especially after the editing marathon, I find myself dragging ass to write my posts for the day.


I find myself dragging ass to do so many things writing-related. One of the reasons why I hate talking about projects unless they have already been completed is that too much energy gets expended talking about what you are going to do and not enough energy is used to actually do it. To reword a trite saying: those who can, do. Those who can't, talk.


That's been the case with my collection of modeling essays. I found myself hitting a roadblock with editing recently. I knew some of the essays needed a proper rewriting, but I couldn't find the energy to do it. And I worried that the energy I needed to get over that hurdle had been used talking about the damn project in the first place.


But sometimes all it takes is something different to get that second wind. I decided I would be doing the cover photo for the project (if it gets accepted), especially since I've been trying to get better at photography -- specifically photographing people (including myself). I dolled myself up, set up my tripod, got to use my external flash for the first time, and posed my little heart out.


There were a lot of duds, a lot of shots that could have been it had the focus or the color balance been correct. And then there was the shot that I knew -- just knew -- was it.


And suddenly, editing my essays got a lot easier.


Sometimes that's all you need: something different to remind you that this is your passion. Something to get you out of whatever rut you were in.


So I think it's safe to say this is the last time I'm talking about it until things are final. Those who can, do. Those who can't, talk.

Day 201 of 365: Quote Journal

Every yoga instructor closes out their class in a different way. Some (like those in gyms) will essentially jump off their mats and tell you to have a nice day. Some will spend a solid 5 minutes sitting in lotus and chanting. The more moderate (read: sane) yoga instructors find that nice middle ground, settling everyone into savasana, allowing a few minutes of stillness to set in, before instructing people to roll onto their right side and push themselves up into a seated position. One of my favorite yoga instructors uses the time between rolling onto your right and pushing yourself up to read a quote. It's usually something simple, something about life or love or how we handle what either throws at us. Just a little something to absorb after a long practice and a peaceful resting pose.


I have been slowly toeing into setting up my own classes and sequences. I've been figuring out how I would explain things and what I would do with my classes and figuring out where I would fall on that spectrum: would I be the bubbly LA gym instructor who essentially has her students do a million crunches and then immediately leave their mat, or would I be the esoteric yogi who only appeals to the absolute nuttos.


One thing I love, however, is the idea of quotes between rolling onto your side and pushing yourself up. You are at your most calm at that point and therefore the most likely to absorb what is being said. One of my yoga instructor teachers suggested buying a journal and filling it with quotes for that very purpose. Which, of course, I did, because every person with an English degree has a downright fetish for little notebooks to write shit in.


It's only been a day and I've already filled five pages of the notebook with various quotes I remember. Quotes that have helped me tremendously in my life and I would want to have help for other's. Because that's the exact type of yoga instructor I want to be: the kind who can benefit her students both physically and mentally. I don't give a flying shit if my students can om or if they know was a tapa is. All I would care about is if they are able to feel a little bit better, a little more peaceful, a little more in shape, and a little more prepare to take what life throws at them.


I'll leave this entry with quite possibly my favorite quote in Spanish (and one of my favorite quotes of any language):


Si nada nos salva de la muerte, al menos que el amor nos salve de la vida.

If nothing saves us from death, at least love can save us from life. -- Pablo Neruda