Born rich or poor?

We watched a really interesting film in soc 173 called 'Born rich,' where a Johnson and Johnson heir talked about what life was like being born into the upper class. It was really intriguing because I always had an ideology toward the upper class that they would drink champagne all day, dance in elegant ball gowns, talk about delicate sports like horseback riding or mini golf, i don't know. But the film took us into the lives of a few heirs and heiresses and they let the camera show the audience what they surround themselves with day by day. It in seriousness, it shocked most of us that they can do anything they want since they already are bound to inherit the money. Some even said that they didn't even need to be anything in order to be rich. It asks the question of whether or not life is worth living after accomplishing the so-called American Dream. Many of these kids (our age) are having frustrations in achieving happiness since they feel they can have anything they want. They also find it easy to lose drive and motivation since everybody else in classes below them seems to be working for the money that they have.
When I apply this question to myself, i'd like to think that I'm doing what I'm doing for reasons other than money. Ideally, my dream to become a filmmaker isn't to earn a bunch of money and live in complete luxury. i would like to, and give most of my money to parents and those less fortunate, but i'm doing what i'm doing so i can accomplish my dream of breaking down barriers. it makes me really sad that those kids can't really function outside of their social circle because they are judged so easily and feel as if they are treated the way they are (good or bad) because of the work their parents did. If anything, most of the ambitious ones of our generation don't want to live in the shadows of our parents. We want to become something different, someone that can change the way people think and the improve the way our society functions. Sure, society has its structure and its hard to break it, but the American Dream shouldn't only be about 'making it' because if it were, it would be a shattered dream fo 99% of Americans. People need to spread more love, hope, passion, and positivity. It should always be that question that people ask themselves; should i be selfish or selfless today?

All love.

Its incredible to be part of a process, or part of something during a time of change. Three years ago i stepped on that stage for the annual LTD Vibe competition and was blown away by the lights, sound, and immense crowd. My dance team was at a stage of change, it was our first time ever stepping foot on that stage, our first time getting recognized. After that performance we went through struggle and hardship in order to make the dance community take us more seriously. However, its amazing because time passes by in the blink of an eye. We transformed from a basketball spirit team to something more; a family of team loyalty, heart, and determination who dance not to compete, but to express our love for dancing. As I sit back from the hysteria of these past three years and reflect upon the changes that occurred, the emotions that ran rampant, the injuries, the tears and laughter that went from 9pm to 3am every monday, wednesday, and sunday night of my college career... it suddenly hits me that not only am I so blessed and lucky to be a part of this dance family, that the team's positive energy and motivating individuals help me through some of my most difficult times in college. There is nothing like a group of people that can be your support system when you need them the most... that's the beauty of community. Through MCIA I realize that it is possible to relate to anybody, friendships of the truest form can form with any kind of individual as long as both sides reaches out. MCIA has given me such a beautiful gift, and it only makes me wonder sometimes if I should pass this gift to someone else or if I should continue hording it for myself. But then again, another lesson this team has taught me is that if you love something enough, you also have the ability to let it go.

We shall see. All love.

"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W57G2eGE79o
MCIA my first year - January 2007

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dLme5b712zM
MCIA my third year - January 2009

Change is good.

You know that disgusting feeling you have when you're hungover? That feeling like, "man, i feel bloody miserable and I don't want to live" type of feeling? Its funny how a fun night spent drinking, doing crazy things you don't have to excuse yourself for, and telling all your secrets to anyone who wants to hear can lead up to consequences such as a nasty headache, nausea, and overall pissy-moodness. I guess in a way it just means that there are always consequences to having too much fun, and that everybody has to pay for what joy they can get one way or another.

But on the other hand, I guess being hungover has its upsides. I mean, it isn't until you're hungover that you realize how privileged you are; there are people around you to take care of you, there is access to resources, nutrients, and food that can help you feel better. Sometimes we forget how fortunate we are and we have to resort to feeling like crap in order to realize it. But I also think it is good to have those crappy days, besides, one never knows the true meaning of compassion without suffering. We all have to go through trials to realize our blessings.

Nostalgia and Inspiration

I love having conversations with my roommate. Sometimes I honestly think that she is the only person that I can have an intelligent conversation with, mainly because at times I feel that others can't really take me seriously or think I'm weird when I'm trying to talk art or make art. When I speak to her I feel that the inspiration goes both ways, and the things that she says and the things that she does constantly inspire me to write stories and create concepts in my head. Maybe that's why I love living with her despite the fact that she falls over everything and she keeps everything...even trash sometimes. But hey, its art. :)

90% of our conversations revolve around art, 5% revolves around school and work, 3% revolves about living with each other, and 1% revolves around men, drugs, and sex. Scratch that, the last one is more like 40% but that's irrelevant to my topic. But its all the little random things she does that inspires me to write out characters, draw storyboards, and create screenplays. Sometimes when we talk I feel like I'm talking like a drug addict because we talk about swimming in gelatin pools and trees doing hand stands... or branch stands. Either way, the surrealistic conversations we have create such an intense fantasy in my head that sometimes I feel like I'm having hallucinations (without the drugs). And if i speak about these things with other people, they naturally think that I'm on something. But I think its really inspiring. How else does Guillermo del Toro think of Pan's Labyrinth or how else does Maya Deren think of fragmented images or Salvador Dali and his eccentric fantasies? They all have to seek out their inspiration somewhere, and in college I found it here, in the presence of the person who lives with me. How convenient!

Come to think of it, its really funny how ten years ago we look back to our younger years and think about what we thought of our future back then. Ten years ago I was thinking that I would be studying at an east coast Ivy League majoring in law, with a white boyfriend and a roommate that I would talk to about girly things and to go shopping with at the Gap... I didn't turn out in any way that I imagined. Thank goodness for the way things are now, I'm majoring in something that I love to do (and know I will do), dancing with a second family I found outside of home, and interning and aspiring to accomplish of my now hopefully (more) mature dreams. I guess that maybe after ten more years and looking back at what I think now, I will most definitely change. I don't wish to change that much though, because so much of what I have now is what I'm happy with. Hopefully life's path won't give me too many detours and demand me to choose the right now. There is no right path, just what I decide to do with it.

Act Your Age... Or not?

A few weeks ago I encountered what I thought to be an interesting observation; I was sitting at Tacone at the District eating lunch and reading some stuff for film class when I noticed something peculiar about the woman sitting next to me. It wasn't her clothing, her demeanor, or what she ordered that caught my attention; but the fact that she was in her late forties and reading a book from the twilight saga.

...

Okay, okay. I'm extremely critical of the Twilight series, mainly because I gave up reading after the second book since I thought the writing and material was such filth. I mean, seriously, the books are written for pre-teens and younger teens who are raging with hormonal curiosity on the good looks of Robert Pattinson and the utter perfection of Prince Charming aka Edward Cullen. Honestly, I watched the movie first. I didn't like how it was filmed, despised Kristen Stewart's portrayal of Bella, but the only good thing was that I found Robert Pattinson extremely convincing, and gorgeous, as Edward. I'm also critical of Twilight because I see it as a rip-off of the 'Roswell' series when I was a younger teen. Replace aliens with vampires, and you have almost exactly the same story. Handsome, unhuman teen saves unsuspecting girl from death and therefore forces her into a position where she has to maintain his secret and fall in love with him. It's an epic formula. And rather repetitive.

Which doesn't make me understand why this woman is reading the fourth book in her hands. Is she suffering from teen angst? I sometimes roll my eyes at how cheesy the book was written (which inevitably ended up with me stopping the series), but I guess this just shows how every woman, no matter at what age, yearns for that soul-deep, super-natural romance. Its surprising how it can effect some people, that a book that you might buy for a young girl might also be an option for an older lady. I'm not picking on this woman, its just that she has made me realize that despite years and age, females are not very different from one another. Romances such as the one in Twilight appeal to us all, supposedly. I mean, so many of my friends are or have been addicted to it. For me personally, I just can't stand the writing. I guess we all want our own Edward in some form or another.

Where's your 'Sense?'

I've never ever been this sick before. But then again, I suppose there are reason why I haven't been getting any better; MCIA is preparing for VIBE (our 3 am practices, unhealthy environment), my schoolwork load, and of course, celebrating myself sick from my 21st birthday. One of my symptoms that really bothered me this time around was that I have seemingly lost my sense of taste and smell. It was intriguing because my nose wasn't stuffed up or anything, I was able to breathe but lost the ability to enjoy the smell of the bathroom after someone has used it, the food I am eating, or to know whether or not the clothes I am wearing have been worn or not because I can't smell the detergent on them.

I seriously feel a little handicapped, but at the same time I feel superior. I can eat so much wasabi! Of course there is that curious little burn in my stomach and throat after I swallow it but for the most part I am not disgusted by it. What also makes eating so interesting is fact that instead of focusing on tasting my food when I eat, I am instead focusing on the texture. In doing so, the texture of the food while in my mouth can help trigger a sensory memory of what the food is supposed to taste like. Although I have to say, my imagination needs some practice; its pretty useless spending money on good food when it all tastes like mushed cardboard. Now that I think about it, I really really miss tasting my food. Yesterday night I had chicken nuggets at the student center and for a slight second, I was able to SMELL the chicken. EUREKA!! I texted my roommate right away and she responded with a bunch of questions like what the object was, who I was with...etc. She actually thinks that its really interesting that all i can experience from eating was texture.

Hopefully I will get better soon. I am totally over this sickness. But with every experience, is a good experience. And I have learned to treasure the smallest things. To be able to taste the sweetness of an apple is a pleasure, to be able to smell something bad can turn out to be an intriguing experience, to be able to smell something to bring back a fond memory is a powerful effect. Never take anything given to you for granted.

I'm not sure if I'm just cynical, but I really despise rude and perverted straight guys who show up to gay clubs just to harass girls. The reason why I love going to gay clubs is that they play the music I like, gay guys are cute and fun to dance with (plus they don't linger for long), and most of all; i go there to have fun with my friends and actually DANCE. At regular night clubs, you get these creepy old men looking at you, standing around with their drinks in their hand and going 'hey mamiiiii have a sip of my tequilaaaaa.' Gross.

Its really funny observing the type of straight guys that go to gay clubs. I round them down to two types; 1.) They got pushed by their girlfriends and they cling to them like a lifesaver when they dance 2.) The really disgusting straight guys who come off as gay and fun until they start attacking/touching you like a leper

I've been in this instances a few times, but more so lately than before. I feel like the scene is getting too big, there are no more restrictions (although I wholly accept the fact that anyone can go gay clubbing), but there are no more places to just DANCE and PLAY FLAMING MUSIC. I can honestly say I'm a gay man at heart. But in the physical sense, I am a woman and I feel violated. The whole animalistic/savage behavior that some men impose on women in clubs is just wrong and should be outlawed. Instead of coming home feeling like I had a good time, I come home feeling like I have nasty gross man germs on me. Whatever happened to good, clean fun?

The Third Person

I felt miserable yesterday. Completely horrid. My right quad was in complete pain. In fact, I think I can speak for the other MCIA dancers that our bodies were aching in pain after a whole month of not dancing. Coming back the day before school, we had a four hour practice which involved learning a new piece and reviewing a high intensity locking piece. I guess for myself it wasn't only the humanly pain I was experiencing that was getting to me, but also how hard the cold virus was hitting me after Together As One for New year's. I went through the first piece fine on our second day... but when we moved on to the third piece, my throat closed up from the inflammation, my joints became hard, and it was getting harder to focus. Elaine had to drag me to the front and made me sit down. Still in my little circle, I was focusing on how miserable I felt until I looked up.

I watched my teammates. Through the pain, sores, and virus going around, everybody was still going full out, smiling, and laughing despite the incredibly late hour and cold temperature (we practice in the parking structure by the way... until the early morning). There is something magical you can experience when you take yourself out of this shell and just observe everything that is happening around you. When you have a horrible day, things are not as bad as they seem when you open your eyes and observe the love and chemistry between others and the small, generous things that people do, there is no such thing as downright horrible day. Even through the worst, when I was unable to speak or swallow from the pain in my throat, so many of my friends still managed to make me smile. That's the power of human life. I realize that moments like that make small life experiences ever more spiritual; the big, expensive things don't matter, its all the little, delicate, thoughtful gestures and moments that you remember and look back upon.

I came home half an hour ago, and I saw a small theraflu packet on my laptop. Apparently one of my roommates put it there. They even leave the light on when they go to sleep, knowing that I'm the latest one coming home. We don't speak much of appreciating one another, but I'm becoming more of an advocate of 'walker' than a 'talker' every single day. I'm going to finish my hot mug of theraflu then I'm going to go to bed.

NEW YEARS RESOLUTION: wake up everyday and say "it's going to be a great day." Because it will be.