Seemingly Pointless Post at 9PM

I realize now the sheer volume of tasks at hand. The choices that I have are many, the opportunities are vast, and yet my time is little.

It felt like just yesterday when I was walking into a university lecture hall for the first time, thinking about my uneasiness and how it was going to be difficult to start from scratch again. Familiar faces were missing from this environment of "school" that I had been so used to all my life.

As I moved through the motions, this new place became my new home. Peoples' faces began to solidify in my memory, and to my happiness, they remembered me too. The work load took me by surprise, and the expectation has jumped up suddenly. I always knew that one day, I would have to be responsible for my own learning and future, I just did not expect it to hit me so quickly.

I am not sure what the point of the post is, to be honest with you. I am currently swamped in between a two research papers, a creative assignment and (yet another) Stats midterm. I feel like my past life in high school was too easy, for lack of a better word. During the time that I went through the tasks at hand, it was a big deal. What once was a big deal has now become something in my periphery and now I am taking new tasks head on.

I found this new stride, this new happiness, that I did not find in high school. I used to think that high school was my prime, the only time in my life when I would be happy. As graduation came, I was scared to leave despite the bravado that I had when I found out that I would be going to SFU.

So I suppose I found my point;

What's happening right now, it will pass.

You are stronger than you think.

You can overcome every mountain, every storm, every enemy.

Never strive for less than what you deserve, which is happiness.

Keep on fighting, never stop believing.

I wish I had someone whispering these mantras in my ear when I was going through seemingly tough issues when I was in high school. At the same time, I am thankful for the suffering and the obstacles that had appeared in my path.

You learn so much through suffering, through pain, through sorrow. Remember that God is always with you through it all. It is through the suffering that God asks us to pray, to discern. He will never leave you. Never forget what you went through, and remember that it does get better.

"God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights."

- Habakkuk 3:17

So keep holding on (thanks Avril), never stop fighting and always keep believing. And spill ink while you do. I promise that future posts will have more purpose :) Midterms are still happening, so... soon. In the mean time, check out the Student Life Network blog for some posts of mine!

x R 

 

It Makes No Cents - Generation Disrespect

Today was a good day. My midterm is out of the way and finally done and over with, and to my pleasant surprise it was not that bad. That, however, is not the focus for the post.

It is what happened after, on my way home.

I was walking home after what you would call a good day at school. I was happy and in high spirits. As I was walking, minding my own business, two Caucasian boys, about 12 or 13 I think, approached me on their bikes. One of them, the older one presumably, proceeded to ask me:

"Hey, can you give me a dollar fifty?"

Now this totally took me by surprise. First of all, I had no idea who these guys were, and they had no idea who I was. Typically strangers do not ask strangers for money, much less without any form of politeness or respect... but I digress.

I then proceeded to shake my head and politely say, "Sorry, I used it on the bus."

After that, with no warning or anything, they take off on their bikes. No thanks, no nothing. Just words of hate: "Oooh, the stupid Chinese girl used a dollar fifty on the bus!"

Okay, rude.

A couple things:
1. Asking strangers for money... questionable.
2. I did not withhold money from them because they were a) white b) just kids or that c) I was greedy. I will tell you here that I have a U-Pass, therefore, I have no need to use change on the bus. But the way that these two were insincere from the moment they opened their mouths, I decided that they were not going to get my one fifty.
3. Hello, unnecessary racial slurs.
4. WHERE IS THEIR RESPECT?!

Unfortunately, this is not the first time I have witnessed or personally experienced young kids who are rude. My dad told us about one time how he was approached by two young girls, perhaps about the same age as the boys above, and without any acknowledgement or antagonizing (which my dad had no interest or time for anyhow), came up to him and began making inappropriate faces at him. For no good reason at all.

So what is my point?

This, my friends, is my biggest pet peeve of all time. I am ashamed to be part of a generation where people can be so rude, so disrespectful, and so ignorant to not just strangers, but their own family and friends as well.

Going back to the boys, the unnecessary use of racial slurs baffled me to know end and put me in great disbelief. What era are we in? I do not accept racial terms of any kind. It is disgusting that some people would think of themselves as higher than other races because of their skin colour. But the fact that we, in 2014, have come so far in achieving equality for peoples of all skin colours and STILL have people being racist and ignorant is unbelievable. The fact that these kids are using racial slurs is uncalled for.

In my mind, children of today should be more tolerant as they were the ones that grew up with ethnic diversity way more so than their grandparents. But the truth is, I hear racial slurs all too often. Just last week, more young kids used the term "old black bastard" under their breath when they were gently reminded by this African American gentleman to free up their spot on the bus for an elderly woman. Not to mention the conversation I overheard, again on a bus, between two young girls that were discussing why she would not date a guy in her grade because he was not white.

Now I recognize that after all this, you may be thinking that I myself am being racist, because it seems that the common thread throughout these incidents may be that all these disrespectful kids are white. I would like to tell you that not all white kids are bad, just the way that not all kids of other skin colours are not innocent. In the end, it comes down to how children were brought up and their family dynamic.

The sad reality is that more and more children are becoming more ignorant and more disrespectful, which is why I get so frustrated and am so ashamed for the way that they act around strangers. I remember as a young girl getting disciplined openly for being disrespectful to anyone. Nowadays, I do not even think twice about the way that I should act. Everyone, especially those that are older than I am, deserves MY respect, whether they are white or black, Asian or Hispanic, it does not matter. We are all the same. We are all equal. We do not succeed without one another.

To conclude, though I was rattled by this incident (and I realize that my biggest fault is getting rattled too easily and holding grudges), I take this as a reminder that I should respect everyone, even if they are not nice to me. I hope that you, too, will take this as a reminder as well.

(http://autisticsspeakingday.blogspot.ca/)

"Honor all people, love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king." - 1 Peter 2:17 (New American Standard Bible)

So give everyone the respect they deserve! Live righteously and remember to do unto others what you would like them to do to you, and spill ink while you do so.

x R 

Are YOU "All About That Bass"?

I am sure that by now, everyone has heard this song by now at least once. Much to the dismay of myself, I will be linking it at the very end of this post so that you can listen to it, dance to it, do what you will with it...

I am going to be very frank, in the nicest way possible: the song "All About That Bass" by Meghan Trainor is not my cup of tea. Putting it bluntly, the song will not be on my playlist any time soon, even if it is a body peace playlist.

Now, I must commend Trainor for going against the social norm and coming up with a song to celebrate body shapes of all sizes. "Every inch of you is perfect / From the bottom to the top". However, I never really had the patience to actually listen to the song, maybe in part because I could not get past the music that the song opened with. 

However, the other day I did take the time to listen to the song. With it being so popular, I had the privilege to listen to it all the way through more than once. Now typically, I need to listen to a song a few times before I can get most of the lyrics in my brain and be able to sing along. With "All About That Bass", just one listen all the way through gave me all I needed to hear.

Before we proceed, I must reassure you that in no means do I disagree with body peace and loving yourself, regardless of shape or size. I just do not agree with how Trainor gets her message across.

Take it from me, a girl who has struggled with her own body weight. As a girl, I suppose I am more susceptible to insecurity, especially about my appearance. My body has once been described as an ideal shape, but being insecure, I did not agree. It took me many years until I finally was able to accept beauty as being unique. There is no set formula for beauty - it is what YOU make out of it.

Listening to  Trainor's song made me extremely uncomfortable. I agree, that "Photoshop shit ain't real" and we are being brainwashed by the media to think that these bodies are necessary to attain. And speaking for other boys, saying that curvy girls are better? No no. All girls are equal. Skinny is not superior to curvy, and curvy is not superior to skinny. The REAL message here is that you should never change yourself for a guy (or vice versa, change yourself for a girl).

The biggest problem I have with the song is the second verse. "Skinny bitches"? Really Meghan? It almost seems like she is apologizing for her vulgar statement with the line "No I'm just playing". In a society where vulgar language is interjected in between every other word in our sentences, I find this usage (or any usage in any song, for that matter), highly unnecessary. And calling those "skinny bitches" "stick figure, silicone, Barbie doll" is drawing extreme stereotypes. There are some girls that are naturally built that way, and that is fine - that is STILL beautiful. 

Some people might be thinking that I feel this way because I am considerably "skinnier" and that I have no idea what these people might feel. I assure you, by my own definition of skinny, I am far from it. However, recently I have learned that if I stop comparing myself to other people (and especially those on magazine pages), I will feel much happier.

And so far, I am succeeding.

A few months ago, I watched a TED Talk by Lizzie Velasquez. She is a motivational speaker and was able to fulfill her dreams of being an author. She suffers from a very rare condition where she is unable to gain weight. Having never weighed over 64 pounds a day in her life earned her the title of the "World's Ugliest Woman". But I disagree. Her hardship is an inspiration to all, and she continued to fight for herself, successfully graduating from the University of Texas and has shared her message with people all over the world. Velasquez is the epitome of skinny, but in her own way, she is beautiful, inside and out.

(http://centreo.hk/wp/?tag=ted-talk) 

So tell me, Meghan Trainor - is Lizzie beautiful?

Every inch of you is beautiful from the bottom to the top. You do not need Meghan Trainor to tell you that. You know it, but deep down, we all strive for something more. We never feel like we are good enough. But I assure you, you are. You are more than enough.

I have a cut out from a magazine that I stuck on my closet. Every morning when I wake up, I see it, and it says,

"Have you thanked your body recently for all it does for you?"

Thank your body for what it does for you. Remember that size and shape does not matter. So take care of yourself, live your life for you and spill ink while you do so.

By the way, I found the music video to be a bit disturbing. So I will just link an audio and I won't subject you guys to that.

x R

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Thanks to everyone for reading! For more body peace and self-acceptance posts, check these out:

"Perfection"

"40 Days of No Makeup"

"God Spoke to Me"

Freshman -15

[So this is devoid of the style that I usually write in, forgive me.]

I guess I just wanted to use this post as a 100% blog style blog post, just as reflection and what not. Life has been interesting, and to the dismay of many of my fellow grads I have two days off a week this term with minimal commute time. It is an understatement to say that I am blessed, because I really do appreciate all the extra downtime and time spent doing work or other things that I enjoy doing, like writing. I suddenly had the inspiration to write yet another novel manuscript so we'll see how well that goes down..

(http://www.quickmeme.com/Freshman-15)

I made many new friends, but one I have particularly bonded over the most is this guy in his second year. We both share an incredible love for food (we spent two hours sharing favourite restaurants and sharing places that we wanted to go) as well as the fact that we are both after the same career path in journalism. The biggest bond that we have is this lack of balance that we have in our lives, which frankly, is not a good thing.

I refer back to a previous post way back when about body image and "perfection". It has always been a struggle of mine to accept my body and how it looks. This makes me seem very ungrateful, since m my body is fully functioning with no physical problems. I have something ideal, yet I am constantly comparing to what others have and go on about what I do not have. I do admit, that this ungratefulness leads to my inability to be content with myself. This is a struggle that I face constantly.

One of my biggest fears in university was Freshman 15, or gaining 15+ pounds because of poor eating habits as a result of poor time management. However, my friend and I have both realized that we are going backwards instead of forwards, and our Freshman 15 is diminishing. He told me that his breakfast was a package of M&M's. He then 'balanced' that out with a caramel macchiato and poutine, which he could barely finish. On top of that, his sleeping schedule is about 5 hours a night because of work and homework.

Now I am a lot luckier here. My mom makes sure that I eat, and not eating is not an option. However, with my classes being at the times that they are, I have been going weeks without eating properly at the right times and eating all wrong at all the wrong times. There are only a few days in the week when all my meals are regular, which scares me. Getting into a cycle of irregularity is the last thing I want.

My friend and I have struck a deal, and we are trying to eat normally. Something that was once so easy must be re-learned, and there is no room to say that it is difficult. In order for us to function properly, this 'eating' thing is vital. We are going to start eating normally as well as trying our best to eat healthier and work out. 

Value the food you eat and the regularity of it. Value your body and what it can do. Most importantly, value life and how much you can achieve throughout your life, and spill ink while you do.

Thanks for bearing with me. Promise to write soon!

x R

Officially A Loser

OKAY (That is what my International Studies prof says all the time, in that precise manner).

One thing's for sure (and my mom can attest to this too), I hate eating lunch, or any meal for that matter, by myself. And by myself, I mean alone in public places. I feel that eating is a social thing, and though one might argue that it makes everyone eat slower because people are trying to talk instead of eat, I think most people agree that eating with friends is more fun than eating alone.

Now, I think that I do not just hate eating alone but I also fear it. There is apparently a term known as "solomangarephobia" that precisely describes my fear - the fear of eating solo.

So why do I fear eating alone?

Many times when I go out with family or friends for a meal, I enjoy the company that they provide for me. It gives me a sense of security and does not make me feel awkward while I'm eating. From time to time I glance around at the array of people in the restaurant, and 9 times out of 10, there will always be solo dinners.

I am curious as to what is going through their minds while they eat by themselves. I do not pity them per se, but I do wonder how they feel about eating alone. I almost feel awkward for them. I feel that same awkwardness when I am asked to go and eat by myself.

As I am learning in university, there is very little time to eat. Sometimes, an older and wiser friend told me, you have to go eat by yourself.

What?

Maybe this is because I am such a social being that I have this notorious fear that will not let go of me. 

This fear was also prevalent in high school too. Once everyone was able to drive out of school to eat lunch, I would come out of meeting after meeting with the threat of eating alone. The feeling was something incomprehensible, yet, it seemed so simple. I just did not want to eat by myself.

But yesterday I was forced to do that. After exploring SFU Vancouver for the first time, I was hungry for lunch. The thing was, I was in the middle of downtown with no friends. I had nothing with me but my bag and a craving for Japadog.

So I went, in search of the Japadog. And then I went, in search of a place to eat, alone.

I was petrified of this experience - sitting out in public, alone. It almost seemed like high school all over again, with office workers and tourists alike passing by and thinking that I was a loser, eating all alone. To make thing worse, a couple tourists had asked me to take their picture. Being a polite Canadian I agreed and helped them get a few shots. When it was all over, the asked me, "Dear, why are you eating lunch all by yourself?"

Officially a loser.

I had nothing to hide but the truth. "I'm down here by myself today."

The tourists nodded knowingly. One of the elderly ladies spoke. "It's good to take some time for yourself though. Get away from all the yapping mouths", she said, making a talking motion with her hands behind her husband. We laughed together and I wished them a good day.

In time afterwards, I realized that she was right. I did take that afternoon for myself.

I very rarely go to downtown, and I go even more rarely by myself. But on Friday, with the sun shining down through a perfectly cloudless and brilliant blue sky, I took in everything around me. I became invisible, like a piece of architecture. I just observed everything around me, took in the smells and the sights and looked ahead, instead of behind.

Sitting by the water, I looked at the ripples of the water. I watched seagulls fly to meet others on rocks. I looked at my reflection in the water. And as I sat and listened, I began to regain sight on a person that I had lost while I was so busy trying to conform to the social standards of society - me.

When you are by yourself, you see the world differently. In many ways, you become vulnerable. But this vulnerability allows you to look introspectively into yourself. The quietude allows you to breathe and not be choked out by the voices around you.

So maybe, in the end, I became a winner.

Here are some of the shots I took from yesterday:

And of course, to fulfill my obsession with panoramas:

So take time for yourself! Be a tourist in your own city, fulfill your cravings and sit in the quietude of yourself. Never be afraid to eat by yourself (as I will try to be now!) and spill more ink while you do.

x R

The Journey Filled with (Content) Solitude

So today officially marks one week of post-secondary. One week since I first started my journey in university, with hundreds more to follow. Obviously it would be really strange of me to celebrate every week, but indulge me for a bit.

Folks, this is a big step in my life!!

For myself and many others in my graduating class, June was the last time we were all together. We would see each other from a daily basis, and though we maybe were not as close to some as we were to others, we were still connected by a bond of unity. We had a common thread running through all of us. And true, many of us hung out over the summer, reminiscing about the past and assuring each other that the future would be okay. A lot of us made promises this time last year that have been broken, either by life or by ourselves.

I said good bye to a lot of people over the summer, see you soon to some, and see you tomorrow to very few. I also said good bye to the old life that I had - the one that I had found comfort and content in for the past thirteen years of my life. I said good bye to familiar territory and familiar faces, only to walk into what is affectionately called by my elders as "the real world".

As I walked through crowds of people, I tried to find a space. I tried to find a space that I would call my own for a temporary amount of time, sandwiched in between strangers. Everyone seemed to move so fast. The professors talked so fast. Time flew so fast, and suddenly, I was back at home.

I told many, and I will share with you all, that I had woken up last Wednesday morning in a panic. I could not find my kilt in my closet, and I was running super late. It was not until I saw the mess of textbooks on my desk (the very expensive and definitely not free textbooks) and my term-at-a-glance calendar on my dry erase board that I realized that I was not in high school anymore.

In university, people move very fast. Everyone walks with their head down, with steps faster than my high school steps. There are people that walk in groups, with people they call their friends. They laugh and seem to be having a good time. And then I think about high school and how easy it was to fall into sync with my best friends. I wonder where my friends are at that precise moment - whether or not they are able to keep up with the flow of university traffic. Whether or not they are able to find friends to laugh with. Whether or not they feel the same solitude that I feel.

And okay, maybe I am being melodramatic and over thinking everything the way I usually do. But today, one week into my journey, I woke up with a new feeling inside of me. It might have been slight insanity from the fact that I was waking up way too early to meet my 8:30 class (and at this point, I was questioning why I even enrolled for an 8:30 class to begin with!)

And as I walked outside, with my mom calling out behind me to have a good day, I was honestly skeptical once again about how true that would be. But as I walked over the dewy ground, one foot stepping in front of the other, I was greeted by the sun shining through the clouds. It was not a spectacular sunrise, but something about it calmed me. For a while (and allow me to be poetic for a minute - after all, I am an English student), I was able to relate to the sun. I was the sun, trying to find my way from behind the clouds that is this new life of mine. I am trying to find my own way, my own time to shine.

Once 3 o'clock rolled around, the sun shined brilliantly.

I found the pace of today different from the rest. I am beginning to make new friends (so I guess I am not a total loser) and I started to get even more into what I was learning. I am finally getting into the swing of things.

"And though your beginning was small, your latter days will be very great." - Job 8:7

I hope that everyone is reaching a steady rhythm within themselves and finding their flow in their new experiences. Remember your roots and go boldly into the future! Embrace the new, learn from the past, and spill more ink while you do.

x R 

#OOTD

As many know, I graduated from Holy Cross and Our Lady of Good Counsel. I was in the Catholic school system for 13 years. Throughout those years, one thing I did not have to worry about was what to wear. Thankfully we had uniforms that kept everyone consistent and cut out the stress of wearing the latest fashions from my life. I only had to really tear my hair out when we had jeans days in high school.

But now, I am in university. I had no uniform (though my dad would joke and say that I could wear my kilt if I wanted to). There was no uniformity. You could wear whatever you wanted.

This made me excited (shopping!) but also nervous. On the second day of school (my first day off, and what used to be my first day of high school), I woke up at 8:30, rifling through my closet. I was panicking because I could not find my kilt, until I realized that I was no longer in high school anymore.

My observations as I went from class to class, from one hallway to the next, is that there is a great array of what people wear to school. The pleasant realization? There were many people dressed like myself! 

The very first day of school brought heavy, heavy rain. Unfortunately, fashion had to be sacrificed for practicality and I had to ditch all the plans and outfits that I had dreamed about wearing for my first day. Instead of skirts, I had to resort to jeans. Forget the cute tops, I was rocking a hoodie all day.

Today's weather was a lot better, but I still kept the jeans.

A few questions and realizations after these two days:

1) In a lecture hall (especially in one with nearly 200 people in it), people really cannot see what you are wearing. Especially when you are sitting down for the entire lecture and short (like me).

2) Did I really care that much about what I wore during high school?

3) Do I still care about what I wear?

4) The uniform of university is as such - jean, some kind of shirt, and a sweater of some kind. The sweater, of course, is optional, depending on the weather.

5) How long do some girls spend trying to figure out what to wear?

6) One of these days I will wear sweats or something. One of these days.

I think that I will always care, to some extent, about how I look. They say that what you wear reflects on your character and can help to lift your mood. Though I will never be like those girls that wear 2 inch heels to class, I suppose I could stand dressing up a bit from time to time.

The point is, in the end, school is a place to learn. In retrospect, I think spent a lot of sleepless nights creating and recreating outfits for high school jeans days that would impress other people. I never really dressed for myself, and I would find myself in items that I felt uncomfortable in.

Clothing, like many other things, is a form of expression. I am beginning to learn now that it should never rule your personality - it should compliment it. Let your personality shine through the words you say, the actions you do, and your smile.

So shop for things that compliment you instead of just covering you (though covering you is a good idea too)! Be confident in who you are and never underestimate the power of a simple 'hello' or friendly smile, and keep spilling ink while you do. I hope everyone's school year is starting off well!

Throwback to the times when I wore my outfit of the year - my uniform. Maybe it will make an appearance at Halloween... #throwbackthursday

x R