28 March 2012
19 March 2012
This One's For the Girls
I've procrastinated with this post for far too long, but enough is enough, people. Bear with me while I weed through years of brain cobwebs to get to my point.
For the past few weeks, I have been overwhelmed with the amount of conversations I've had with my girlfriends about their body image and the general dislike that they/we feel about our bodies and our appearances. Btw, things could get very Eat, Pray, Love here, so I ask that you again, bear with me. For example: Before going out to the bars one night, about 4 other girls and I were standing in the bathroom finishing getting ready. Hair pins were flying, makeup was being slapped on and drinks were being spilled. At some point, the conversation turned to talking about things we didn't like about ourselves. Before I knew it, I had joined in on a chorus of self-deprecation
"My arms are too big"
"My ass is too flat"
"My hair is so shitty"
"I can't do makeup, I look like an idiot"
"I feel huge"
"I weighed myself yesterday and cried"
"You have perfect boobs, I'm so jealous"
Getting ready for a night on the town is somewhat of a ritual for girls. We take this time very seriously and it is prime for bonding. Similarly, it seems as though we look for friendship, loyalty, and reassurance in other girls by disclosing what we hate about ourselves.
After my tear-filled night crying about how imperfect I am (referenced here) I woke up ready to make a change, but I was also so frustrated that I couldn't come to the root of the issue. Was it just the media that makes my peers and I feel inadequate? Or are we to blame? Have we created a society that reflects how we feel about ourselves? No matter how many Dove Real Beauty ads I see, when given the option, I would still choose the skinnier model over the "real-sized" women. No matter how many times my friends reassure me about my face, my body, or my hair, I can still pin-point every little inch of myself that I want to change. We all can. How many times have we looked to our peers, our mothers, boyfriends, teachers, or sisters for validation? Why does it seem impossible for us to be able to look in the mirror and tell ourselves that we are enough?
I'm still trying to figure this all out, but the best I can do right now is try and make the change for myself personally, but also hold my friends accountable for the way we talk about ourselves and each other. No more pity parties.
I've thrown together a little body image/self-validation playlist - total chick music, sorry to any guys who are reading...
When you're feeling like crap and want to feel sad about it listen to this:
When you're feeling like crap and want to feel as fabulous as a drag queen on Open Mic Night, listen to this and rally UP:
When you feel like your butt is too big:
To work on your self-validation, follow in Alanis' footsteps (you may want to grab a floor pillow for this one):
Now go and write 5 things you love about yourself and your body. DO IT.
Thanks for reading!
For the past few weeks, I have been overwhelmed with the amount of conversations I've had with my girlfriends about their body image and the general dislike that they/we feel about our bodies and our appearances. Btw, things could get very Eat, Pray, Love here, so I ask that you again, bear with me. For example: Before going out to the bars one night, about 4 other girls and I were standing in the bathroom finishing getting ready. Hair pins were flying, makeup was being slapped on and drinks were being spilled. At some point, the conversation turned to talking about things we didn't like about ourselves. Before I knew it, I had joined in on a chorus of self-deprecation
"My arms are too big"
"My ass is too flat"
"My hair is so shitty"
"I can't do makeup, I look like an idiot"
"I feel huge"
"I weighed myself yesterday and cried"
"You have perfect boobs, I'm so jealous"
Getting ready for a night on the town is somewhat of a ritual for girls. We take this time very seriously and it is prime for bonding. Similarly, it seems as though we look for friendship, loyalty, and reassurance in other girls by disclosing what we hate about ourselves.
After my tear-filled night crying about how imperfect I am (referenced here) I woke up ready to make a change, but I was also so frustrated that I couldn't come to the root of the issue. Was it just the media that makes my peers and I feel inadequate? Or are we to blame? Have we created a society that reflects how we feel about ourselves? No matter how many Dove Real Beauty ads I see, when given the option, I would still choose the skinnier model over the "real-sized" women. No matter how many times my friends reassure me about my face, my body, or my hair, I can still pin-point every little inch of myself that I want to change. We all can. How many times have we looked to our peers, our mothers, boyfriends, teachers, or sisters for validation? Why does it seem impossible for us to be able to look in the mirror and tell ourselves that we are enough?
I'm still trying to figure this all out, but the best I can do right now is try and make the change for myself personally, but also hold my friends accountable for the way we talk about ourselves and each other. No more pity parties.
I've thrown together a little body image/self-validation playlist - total chick music, sorry to any guys who are reading...
When you're feeling like crap and want to feel sad about it listen to this:
When you're feeling like crap and want to feel as fabulous as a drag queen on Open Mic Night, listen to this and rally UP:
When you feel like your butt is too big:
To work on your self-validation, follow in Alanis' footsteps (you may want to grab a floor pillow for this one):
Now go and write 5 things you love about yourself and your body. DO IT.
Thanks for reading!
07 March 2012
05 March 2012
Salutations, Sun
This morning I woke up two hours early so that I could do homework for my classes today. One time, I got reprimanded by a professor who told me I was doing an injustice to myself by doing this. That it was "the education system" that made me think waking up early to do an assignment the day that it's due is a good idea. Respectively, sir, it's actually just my crippling procrastination and complete and utter lack of motivation to do bull shit assignments which makes me think that it's a good idea.
The point is, this procrastination followed me over seas and this morning was no exception. Why then, you ask, am I writing a blog post and not doing the aforementioned homework? Well it turns out those assignments are actually due tomorrow, not today. So I woke up two hours early for nothing. It's too late to go to bed now, so instead, I'm going to share some morning reflections on the weekend that has just passed:
1) The Vow is a great movie. New favorite chick flick. Rachel McAdams is a goddess. And Channing Tatum is okay too.
2) You may think that Skyping with your sisters on a Sunday afternoon might be a drag because you are, perhaps, in the middle of an episode of Downton Abby; but when they pay for a month of Skype Premium just so that you all can conference chat, it'll be well worth your time.
3) Tequila is never (always) a good idea.
4) Giving up Chocolate for Lent was a terrible plan. Pain au Chocolate, Nutella, ice cream, candy....ITS TORTURE.
5) When you begin to have an identity crisis because you are abroad with new friends and foreign boys who don't seem to get the concept of "leave me alone" and you still don't know how to cook and every girl who passes you seems skinnier, prettier, nicer and all around cooler than you are: put down the tequila, don't buy that champagne, and what ever you do, DO NOT let your well-meaning friends give you their "extra" shots of god-knows-what. Because at the end of the night, you WILL be that girl walking home and crying.
6) Boys give great advice. They really don't get enough credit for this. Sometimes they are absolutely dead-on about something and you should always listen to them in these moments of wisdom/gold. This is especially true if they are talking about their own sex. Because guys know guys. Sry ladiez, but it's true.
7) Mothers also give great advice. They also (might) send you Easter candy in the mail. Listen to them.
8) Justin Bieber is now a legal adult. Did I just Google "Hottest Justin Bieber pics"? Absolutely. Was this one of the first images that appeared?
The point is, this procrastination followed me over seas and this morning was no exception. Why then, you ask, am I writing a blog post and not doing the aforementioned homework? Well it turns out those assignments are actually due tomorrow, not today. So I woke up two hours early for nothing. It's too late to go to bed now, so instead, I'm going to share some morning reflections on the weekend that has just passed:
1) The Vow is a great movie. New favorite chick flick. Rachel McAdams is a goddess. And Channing Tatum is okay too.
2) You may think that Skyping with your sisters on a Sunday afternoon might be a drag because you are, perhaps, in the middle of an episode of Downton Abby; but when they pay for a month of Skype Premium just so that you all can conference chat, it'll be well worth your time.
3) Tequila is never (always) a good idea.
4) Giving up Chocolate for Lent was a terrible plan. Pain au Chocolate, Nutella, ice cream, candy....ITS TORTURE.
5) When you begin to have an identity crisis because you are abroad with new friends and foreign boys who don't seem to get the concept of "leave me alone" and you still don't know how to cook and every girl who passes you seems skinnier, prettier, nicer and all around cooler than you are: put down the tequila, don't buy that champagne, and what ever you do, DO NOT let your well-meaning friends give you their "extra" shots of god-knows-what. Because at the end of the night, you WILL be that girl walking home and crying.
6) Boys give great advice. They really don't get enough credit for this. Sometimes they are absolutely dead-on about something and you should always listen to them in these moments of wisdom/gold. This is especially true if they are talking about their own sex. Because guys know guys. Sry ladiez, but it's true.
7) Mothers also give great advice. They also (might) send you Easter candy in the mail. Listen to them.
8) Justin Bieber is now a legal adult. Did I just Google "Hottest Justin Bieber pics"? Absolutely. Was this one of the first images that appeared?
You bet.
Happy Monday, Gang.
27 February 2012
A party is a party is a party is a party
Recently I returned 'home' to Montpellier after spending a week in Berlin and a weekend in Amsterdam for winter break. It was the bee's knees. Both of these amazing cities are known for their outrageous night life, which I would like to think that I experienced (aside from the couple of nights when I retired early with a spoon full of peanut butter and the Hunger Games for bed mates). Everything from swanky bars, to coffee shops, I was livin La Vida Europa! Yes, I did just go there.
Everything came full circle when I ventured out to a house party hosted by some German college students. I wasn't sure what to expect! These are Europeans after all! So I put on my coziest turtle neck, grabbed a couple of beers and hoped for some Aryan hotties.
What it wasn't: some pretentious European gathering of intellectuals and communists.
What it was: a college house party.
It was so alarmingly familiar, I felt that at any moment, I could be headed to Qdoba for drunk nachos. I got to talk to Germans my age about their opinion of American music, German politics, and Obama. I saw people waiting impatiently in line to use the bathroom, girls dancing alone in far corners of the living room and boys smoking 'cigarettes' on the patio. In all my weekends in Europe, this party was where I felt the most comfortable and at home.
It turns out that no matter what language you speak, where you grew up, or what school you go to: good music + alcohol = a party.
ps: currently on the hunt for a yellow fur.
Everything came full circle when I ventured out to a house party hosted by some German college students. I wasn't sure what to expect! These are Europeans after all! So I put on my coziest turtle neck, grabbed a couple of beers and hoped for some Aryan hotties.
What it wasn't: some pretentious European gathering of intellectuals and communists.
What it was: a college house party.
It was so alarmingly familiar, I felt that at any moment, I could be headed to Qdoba for drunk nachos. I got to talk to Germans my age about their opinion of American music, German politics, and Obama. I saw people waiting impatiently in line to use the bathroom, girls dancing alone in far corners of the living room and boys smoking 'cigarettes' on the patio. In all my weekends in Europe, this party was where I felt the most comfortable and at home.
It turns out that no matter what language you speak, where you grew up, or what school you go to: good music + alcohol = a party.
ps: currently on the hunt for a yellow fur.
04 February 2012
Just a Girl.
While saying tear-filled goodbyes at the MSP Airport a month ago, my mother pulled me aside and said, "Have you been taught laisse-moi tranquille??"
What.
"You need to learn this right now, its how to tell someone to leave you alone! MEMORIZE IT."
So begrudgingly, I memorized it right there in the airport.
Gawd mom, I know how to handle myself - I am a strong, independent woman who takes no crap from nobody....
Being a woman in France is a very interesting blend of good old fashioned misogyny and modern day feminism. Here, you can pretty much wear anything you want: painted lips at 2pm, fishnets at noon, and a muumuu for dinner. No one will judge you! You will be praised by men and women alike for dressing up, dressing differently and walking with confidence and style. But no matter what you're wearing, who you're with, what time of day or what part of the city, you will be harassed. Every time I walk out of my apartment I know that I will be hit on, whistled at, or approached. I'm not being cocky. This is just the reality that all the girls in the study-abroad program and I have come to accept.
During the first few weeks of being here, my friends and I went out on the town and the cat-calls came and went throughout the night. By the time we were all walking home, I was fed-up. I hadn't yet learned the skill of completely ignoring it all and I was piised. and a little intoxicated. So when two young French men started approaching us, I was not having it.
"Hallo? Hallooo Ladiesss! You speak inglish? Are you Amaricane?"
"AU REVOIR" I replied, clearly doing an awesome job of telling them to leave us alone.
They did not appreciate this.
"Ohhhh HALLLOO."
"MARCHER! MARCHER!" I was attempting to tell them to walk away...no success.
"You make no sence! I am walking here, see?"
Then I proceeded to flick them off with both hands, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? HUH?!"
By this time, one of the boys got the picture and tried to pull his friend away.
The other guy continued to yell at us and started speaking rapidly in French, to which I replied with a string of American swear words. Dogs started barking, lights were turned on in the apartments above us, it was not good. Finally my friends got me to shut up and we all turned down an alley to get away from them.
It wasn't my finest moment.
Then just last week, my room mates and I were doing our laundry when we were joined by two young guys who had just finished rolling and smoking a joint outside. They hopped up onto the machines and began to ask lots of questions. We told them we were Canadian students and then tried to ignore them the best we could.
Finally, when they started getting really annoying, I remembered my phrase.
"Laisse-moi tranquille, s'il vous plaît"
It was like a magic spell had been cast! One of the guys instantly hopped down off the washing machine and told his friend that they should get going. The second boy couldn't leave without a fight so he said some more stupid jokes and then his friend apologized for them both and then they left!
Then I had one of those moments where I silently acknowledge that my mother was, in fact, right.
As much as I like being a girl, I have to say, I enjoy it far more in The States where a man can get verbally assaulted by a bad-ass bitch if they decide to cross the line when speaking to a woman.
Here, the women are pros at just walking silently away from a man's words. I guess its the right thing to do, to not stoop to their level and simply walk away - but it just makes me feel weak.
Ah well, I guess for the next 4 months, I can learn to suffer in silence.
What.
"You need to learn this right now, its how to tell someone to leave you alone! MEMORIZE IT."
So begrudgingly, I memorized it right there in the airport.
Gawd mom, I know how to handle myself - I am a strong, independent woman who takes no crap from nobody....
Being a woman in France is a very interesting blend of good old fashioned misogyny and modern day feminism. Here, you can pretty much wear anything you want: painted lips at 2pm, fishnets at noon, and a muumuu for dinner. No one will judge you! You will be praised by men and women alike for dressing up, dressing differently and walking with confidence and style. But no matter what you're wearing, who you're with, what time of day or what part of the city, you will be harassed. Every time I walk out of my apartment I know that I will be hit on, whistled at, or approached. I'm not being cocky. This is just the reality that all the girls in the study-abroad program and I have come to accept.
During the first few weeks of being here, my friends and I went out on the town and the cat-calls came and went throughout the night. By the time we were all walking home, I was fed-up. I hadn't yet learned the skill of completely ignoring it all and I was piised. and a little intoxicated. So when two young French men started approaching us, I was not having it.
"Hallo? Hallooo Ladiesss! You speak inglish? Are you Amaricane?"
"AU REVOIR" I replied, clearly doing an awesome job of telling them to leave us alone.
They did not appreciate this.
"Ohhhh HALLLOO."
"MARCHER! MARCHER!" I was attempting to tell them to walk away...no success.
"You make no sence! I am walking here, see?"
Then I proceeded to flick them off with both hands, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT? HUH?!"
By this time, one of the boys got the picture and tried to pull his friend away.
The other guy continued to yell at us and started speaking rapidly in French, to which I replied with a string of American swear words. Dogs started barking, lights were turned on in the apartments above us, it was not good. Finally my friends got me to shut up and we all turned down an alley to get away from them.
It wasn't my finest moment.
Then just last week, my room mates and I were doing our laundry when we were joined by two young guys who had just finished rolling and smoking a joint outside. They hopped up onto the machines and began to ask lots of questions. We told them we were Canadian students and then tried to ignore them the best we could.
Finally, when they started getting really annoying, I remembered my phrase.
"Laisse-moi tranquille, s'il vous plaît"
It was like a magic spell had been cast! One of the guys instantly hopped down off the washing machine and told his friend that they should get going. The second boy couldn't leave without a fight so he said some more stupid jokes and then his friend apologized for them both and then they left!
Then I had one of those moments where I silently acknowledge that my mother was, in fact, right.
As much as I like being a girl, I have to say, I enjoy it far more in The States where a man can get verbally assaulted by a bad-ass bitch if they decide to cross the line when speaking to a woman.
Here, the women are pros at just walking silently away from a man's words. I guess its the right thing to do, to not stoop to their level and simply walk away - but it just makes me feel weak.
Ah well, I guess for the next 4 months, I can learn to suffer in silence.
28 January 2012
Shit Girls Say: Abroad.
Does anyone know what 21 hours is in American?
Why are they staring?
The scale says 60...Good thing? Bad thing?
It says 7 celsius? Do I need a coat?
I wonder if they speak english.
What is a Banana Republic doing here?
Where is the closest crépe stand?
I need a Coca Light.
Can we drink the water here?
I think I have bed bugs.
When was the last time you showered?
The only thing I've eaten today is Nutella.
What's a kilocal?
Have you tried the Rosé?
Do I need a jacket?
Should I bring my passport?
Can I bring my mango on the train?
How many pairs of shoes are you bringing?
Are you checking a bag?
Does it smell like cheese in here?
Do you think this cheese smells bad?
I'm bringing wine.
Pan au chocolat?
How much is this in USD?
Can anyone read this label?
Am I overdressed?
Can we just take the tram?
I have a skype date, sorry.
Are we meeting up with the Swedes?
Wine?
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