Saturday, February 6, 2010
It's still me, I promise. And of course you all can call me whatever you like. I like my Chinese name better but Emily's quite fine.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
This isn't to blame anyone. It's just, you should know, NOT OKAY.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
I feel way alive right now. Most days I like to walk but when I push my body to the limit and go for a real run, I feel great. And who was to think I wouldn't get chased by any dogs? I think this might be my day.
Today was also a YUGA (http://www.planusa.org/content172382)
One of the big things we've been working on is this:
My own examples varied: I suggested women were expected to invest more in aesthetics, for one (going to Kohl's this winter, I found turtlenecks on sale in the men's department for nine dollars. They were a rich, warm, durable material. But they had tissue-paper-thin turtlenecks for the same price in the women's department). My second example pointed to men touching and making inappropriate comments about female figures and feeling it's perfectly okay. I brought this up because I, like many women, have faced this in my own home.
We also discussed that very important issue of women being drawn in by the media and needing to be a certain shape, and how numbers were extremely important in the modern world ... namely, the numbers on the scale!
On the subject of body image, here is something I wrote and submitted anonymously to Teen Ink magazine during the fall. At this point I don't mind others knowing I wrote it: http://teenink.com/poetry/all/article/132677/Shoulds/
And now it's time to get back to my Sunday afternoon.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Hello. My name is Barney. I am a cool person. Let me tell you about my life. Well, here goes!
Every morning, Mom calls me downstairs.
“Yo, Barns! Barnsey, Warnsey, get down here, ya little freak!”
I do not listen.
“I am not going to school today!” I shout back, mad.
“Oh, yes you are!” she bellows.
She comes into my room, maaad! “GO TO SCHOOL!!!!!” she screams at the top of her stupid lungs.
“Make me!” I say back.
She screams real loud.
“Ha, ha! Mom, you are a mad dog!” I laugh.
She turns poofy and red all over.
She smokes at the ears.
shouts my dear, sweet mother.
See how calm and beautiful she is? I love her black teeth and gray, lice filled hair. I also admire how her bones are starting to crumble and her face is falling off. See what I have to deal with?