"Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade."

I figure if you tell a story enough times then you're bound to run into someone, who interprets it the way you worry it really happened. Like today at lunch I was talking to a friend and I was telling her about this boy and something that had happened between us. I've told this story to tons of people all who have a generally upbeat response. They also tend to interpret it the way I do, making it a positive. She however did not. Her response made me feel like I was silly for interpreting it the way I did. Granted her response has been the only one of that kind. But I have to wonder why is that one that sticks out?

I'm frustrated because it's like her saying my interpretation was never possible. (which in turn feeds into my insecurities). But it's not just my interpretation. My friend who was there agrees with me, another friend who saw me interact with this boy stated at the time that things seemed good.

I guess my major point is why do people who weren't there while it was happening, weren't aware of what was happening at the time, comment like they were there or were aware? It isn't just this scenario either. There are others. A couple of posts ago I vented on people thinking I acted blindly when it came to another boy. Granted this boy wasn't prince charming, but at the same time I have one friend who likes to just reduce him and his actions to one scenario. I find this extremely frustrating because no one is one dimensional(even the people I don't like and rant about), and reducing someone to one dimension is unfair. Especially since that can be turned on them. I mean how would you like to be known as the frigid bitch, the insane-o stalker, the delusional dame, just because you behaved a certain way in one situation? I know I'd hate it. I know I do.

Just a girl

The summer before my senior year of high school Newsweek printed this article Meet The Gamma Girls Newsweek Culture Newsweek.com. It's about the three types of girls that exist within girl culture: the Alpha females, the Betas, and the Gammas. According to the article, the alpha female is best characterized by the various incarnations of high school girls Kirsten Dunst portrayed (this was around her Bring it On days). The alpha is able to find a balance between being "bitchy and nice". The beta is the wannabe alpha, doing whatever she can to get people to like her. Then we have the focus of this article, "The Gamma Girl". According to the author of the article the Gamma girl pretty much walks on water. She's pretty, funny, smart, involved in sports and her community, she has her own ideas. She's made of awesomeness.

I'll be honest, when read the article at 16 I was thrilled by the idea of the Gamma Girl because I identified with her. In the original article they had this chart of who each girl could be compared to Hollywood-wise, a list of her "interests", and a brief description of her. "She loves Shakespeare!" Check. "She thinks Gwen Stefani rocks!" Check. "Her Hollywood crush is Tobey Maguire!" ...errr Check?! My favorite part was the ideal Gamma Girl, Julia Stiles. Oh, how I adored Julia Stiles (and still do).

I found this article at work today, and I began thinking about the whole concept of Alphas vs Betas and Gammas (who avoids competing with alphas and betas). I've been thinking about these labels the past couple of months. Usually I applied them to men as I had been watching The Pickup Artist, which basically transforms beta males into alpha males (or so they say...more on that in another post). In the article, example of the "alpha female" is a blond narcissist, who will basically do anything to remain popular, and appears to have zero intellectual capabilities. This characterization contradicts the description on the handy little chart they provide us with, which tells us the alpha is aiming for a Ivy education (Princeton), and is heavily involved with student council. Hmm. Perhaps, the girls the article (not the chart, mind you) deemed as "alphas" are really "betas"?

I'm beginning to wonder if there are any real alpha females out there, or if we label the pretty betas "alphas" because they whip their claws out to keep others in their place. Let's think about it, would and actual alpha who can maintain a balance between being "bitchy and nice" (re:be assertive), resort to catty passive-aggressive ways? Would popularity matter to her? Honestly? What if the gamma girl, is really Miss Alpha in disguise? Maybe she got tired of some vapid eternal adolescent trying to compete with her, so she took herself out of the race by creating a new category.

Life happens

Have you ever realized that you really wanted something only after you've received it? What if you only went after something because you knew you'd regret it if you did nothing? Maybe that's your only motivation, a life without regret. Maybe it interferes with your plans, but you figure why not chance it? Let's say you got it, and you were overjoyed. Surprise, surprise.

Jose: My grandmother used to say, "You want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans."

That's the opening line from the award winning film Bella (go see it if you haven't). I've been thinking about that line, because things, are certainly not going as planned. I'm not sure they ever have. Usually, though it's just one area of my life, and usually it's not THAT good. The love I didn't end up with, the job I didn't get, not being in grad school right now (because I don't graduate 'til the middle of this month), all these things didn't happen...and they've lead me to where I am today. So I guess my question is, where is this new thing going to lead me? This thing I wasn't sure I wanted until I go it. How does it add up in the long run?

Tu me manque

"You're like trying to divide by zero
after everbody says

You can't"

It's late, I'm tired and I won't make any sense,

But here's what I've been thinking:

Sometimes I want to send emails to people who I used to be friends with and say things like:
"Hey, you were awesome when we hung out in April and then you became really selfish and inconsiderate. That's why I don't email you anymore. Also, you're a big faker...in more ways than one, please stop."
I just want to see how they'd react. I mean how do you respond to something like that? Granted if I were to write an email along those lines, I wouldn't say it exactly like that. But still I'm curious. How does a person respond to a friend saying they didn't like the person they were turning into? How do you feel when they bring up the good times and chalk 'em up to yester-year because there's no way they're coming back? I mean I think some people assume that distance and time contributes to the loss of a friendship, and sometimes they do. But do they question where they went wrong? Why the other stopped writing? Do people ever wonder...and if they do...is it ok to miss those good times around December?

Yes, it's late and I shouldn't be blogging. Ciao.

Time's playing tricks

Mrs.T: You don't want me to move you now, do you?
Miss M (at 15): No!
Mrs.T: Good because then he'd have a heart attack if I did!

The "he" in this conversation refers to a boy in my math group. I was having problems with one of my other group members, and had asked the teacher to never put me in a group with her again. I should probably mention I liked this boy at the time,(whom for the sake of the blog we'll call Mr.Wpf) and that I was confused by her "heart attack" comment. To this day, I'm not quite sure what she meant.

I associate that year with really liking him, and having eyes only for him. Apparently this is incorrect. Last night I couldn't sleep so I ended up digging out my diary from high school. I cringed going over the entries...but that isn't the point. Most of my entries don't mention Mr.Wpf, they're about some other guy (I remember having a crush on, but not liking). Mr.Wpf doesn't even get mentioned until April sophomore year, and it's some measly sentence. I did write about him though that year, but I guess those thoughts and memories are lost in notes I wrote to friends.

I do talk about him more junior year in my diary...but even then it's not how I remember it. I don't remember not speaking to him for two weeks, or talking about the Cali university I stayed at that summer (the one his sister was attending that fall). Then my diary cuts off, 3 entries after that one. I never finished it, I have a little less then half way to go. But still, I can't help but wonder why I remember him most, why he gets credited with being the big high school "like".

The written word, and the destruction of the workshop

The course description for poetry 222 (in the year 2003) states that there are certain myths that exist within poetry:

"• Myth #1: Poetry is and/or should be abstract.
• Myth #2: Poetry is and/or should be an expression of the deepest inner reaches of the poet's heart and need not be comprehensible to anyone else."
• Myth #3: Poetry is and/or should be open to any interpretation the reader wants to give it.

It goes on to say "the reason we must destroy these myths is that they promote laziness in the writer and incomprehensibility in the writing. The fact is that producing good poetry requires more chiseling and precision than any other form of writing and its aim should always be clear communication between a poet and his/her reader."

If this is taught at the 200 level, I'm curious as to why students at a 400 level cannot grasp these concepts. Granted, it took me years of professors writing questions like:
"What does this mean?"
"What is the significance of this?"
"What is at stake?"
"What is the relationship between the speaker and the 'you'?"

Don't get me wrong, there are a few talented, motivated, writers in my workshop who understand their craft. There are also those, who give amazing feedback. They take the time to go through each student's work and examine its potential. They then make comments on what is working with in the poem, and what could be improved.

I am frustrated with those that don't make the effort, those who think that a poem can get by on "pretty language". These poems tend to be abstract, a collection of beautiful lines that really don't add up to anything. So I sit there thinking I'm extremely dense, because I have no clue what's going on. "Is this about a bird? Or about the relationship between a mother and child? Or is it both?"...apparently it's about "the deconstruction of the home-life that exists in suburban American," or something along those lines. LAME!

I'm also frustrated with workshops being wasted on stupid stories, students brown-nosing ("Oh, Professor since your so smart can you tell us where the word 'queer' comes from"), pointless exercises (I'll give you some are helpful, but ones basing a poem on a word are not), or anything else that takes time from actual work shopping.

I'm uber p*ssed off, because today in workshop we spent 5 lousy minutes at the end of class going over my poem. I could have waited until next week(I lie). We could have taken time going over the content and the form without the teacher prompting students to find something wrong with it. They would have said it if we had more than 5 minutes, because they could see line by line what didn't' work. Or you know what would have been better? Actually getting down to work at the start of class. We're behind because people ask questions that have nothing to do with the course or subjects being discussed, because even when we're just going to do a "read through, no comments" the prof eventually has to make comments, and also the stories. Usually I like stories but sometimes you need to get to work...especially if you're behind!

End rant!

The Myth of You and Me

A few months ago I picked up the novel The Myth of You and Me. It's a story about two girls who used to be best friends, but had a falling out and haven't spoken in years. Then one contacts the other, and it takes off from there. Will they reunite? Can they be friends again? etc. At the end of the novel there's this link to the author's web page. On the page it asks for the readers to share their stories about friends that they're no longer close to. I considered posting one, but ultimately couldn't decide which friend I'd choose. My 10 year old bff, my 13 year old one, or what about my best friend in high school(we're close now, but there was that year we weren't)? I never posted.

At the time I read the novel, I longed for that kind of loss. Yes, it's weird to long for a loss, but I did. Only for a second. I'm starting to wonder though, if that's why these things happened. That moment of longing...the thoughts out there in the universe waiting to manifest.

I still don't know who I'd pick, but I've been thinking about 2 friends recently. One because essentially our friendship has ended. It was abrupt, and I still don't know why it happened. I'm not sure if I should lament it. Sure I'll think of the road trip up to Madrid, the times I let her stay over at a moments notice because her family problems had exploded. I figure most of my frustration stems from not knowing, and not being able to say what it is I need to. I emailed her after she stopped returning my calls. But nothing, it remains unopened. I'm reminded of a quote from Beaches where CC Bloom says "If you had even answered one, just one! Told me what a jerk I was, anything! But you didn't. You took your friendship away without even discussing it with me."

The other friend is the subject of my latest piece of work (which shall be work shopped tomorrow). We were never really close, there were moments I suppose. It would be unfair to blame her entirely, I could have made the effort. I did not though, I would have been trying to be friends with the person she no longer wanted to be. She is somebody else entirely now. I think I miss the friend she could have been. This piece though, focuses on the unraveling of the friendship. It was easy to pinpoint those moments, the turning points.

The Hellos

I decided a new blog was in order. I'm on hiatus from LJ, and I hate posting to myspace. I'll try not to bore you with the list of events that fill up my day (trust me, most aren't that interesting), but this is going to be where I clear my head. So welcome!