10.16.2014

Feeling negligent.

I don't know if I feel like myself. But I don't know if I don't feel like myself, either.

Whenever I try to take control of a part of my life that was weighing me down in some way, I always let the other parts slip a little due to negligence. I'm like one of those crazy, over-stressed moms who's just trying to settle a fight between two of her kids, while her toddler is in her highchair spilling milk and spaghetti sauce everywhere, and the doorbell is ringing, and the oven is telling her that the chicken is done, and also she has stress at work on her mind, and has to actually be in a conference call in like five minutes (because my simile-mom is does it all).

I mean it's not that bad. And not exactly equivalent. Because the difference is that my hypothetical mom has things happening to her, whereas I bring hardships onto myself.

Motivation is an elusive beast. And if you're lucky enough to capture him, he's hard to keep.

I finally feel healthy and happy about myself, but I also feel like I'm letting responsibilities and relationships rot on the side. I'm always looking for a balance, and I just can't seem to figure out the formula. I've been trying to find it my whole life. I think this means I never will, right? I mean, isn't that the whole point of living? Trying to get to that point when you can actually smile knowing you finally figured it all out?

But it shouldn't be that way. We're always looking towards the future for answers and comfort, but shouldn't we be looking within ourselves instead? I guess that's scary because we don't always like what we find there. And in those cases, unhealthy ways of coping creep in without us realizing. Their insidious onset leaves us more than vulnerable when storms from the external world are thrown at us without warning. The positive feedback from the hurt, pain, and defenselessness just cause another domino to fall, taking down another with it.

It's a lot easier watching everything collapse than it is to set it all up again.

You have to try though. That's where humanity lies, I think; in the struggle. In the effort that seems futile because you're alone.

Do you ever notice how everyone is always talking, but never saying anything? It's a static, low murmur that creates the background noise to everything. It emphasizes that feeling of loneliness, doesn't it?

And that loneliness makes the trying so much harder to justify.


But you're not really alone. You may know that, but you have to believe it. And once you do, I think that's when you find the life you've been looking for.


I think.




6.23.2014

Give it here. I'll fix it, J.R.R. Tolkien.

Twenty-one days ago I started to watch The Hobbit, and today I finished it. I guess the first thing you have to understand about me and the Lord of The Rings franchise is that we both think the other is ridiculous. That doesn't mean we don't appreciate one another. It just...we think that each other can be a little self-indulgent at times. Or all times.

It takes me weeks to finish a LOTR film; enormous amounts of rewinding, annoying pleas for explanation from those who were unfortunately chosen to watch it with me, and subtitles. We cannot forget the subtitles.

In order for me to relate to, understand, and keep track of the many characters and endless plot lines, I have to make the story my own. I have to find a way to fit it within the confines of my own personal reality.

I do this by renaming the characters whose names are incoherent. And also by giving the less important characters interesting histories so that they don't feel left out.

Friends, Carina and Shelby helped me tailor each name to specifically portray each character's finer attributes.

Let's start with the original trilogy. This is just a smattering chosen from all 9,000 characters.

LOTR Family Photo Album: As Seen through My Eyes



Now let's move on to The Hobbit

Hot Fred.
 I think this one is self explanatory.



Hot George.
Slightly hotter than Fred. And it's possible Fred resents him for this, but it hasn't manifested in any real, domestic quarrel. Yet.




Muskrat.
 Lives among lesser-known species of rodents during seasons of non-dragon-hunting.




Vast Helga.
Does not know where he is. But loves indie films. And hockey.




Small Helga.
As you may notice, Small Helga is only slightly smaller than Vast Helga. This may have been an oversight when he was christened. It's confusing and unclear.
Small Helga's favorite food is salt water taffy.





Common Arthur.
Common Arthur may have contributed to the above confusion with Small Helga. Because I think, originally, he was the true Small Helga. But when it was discovered that he was far more common than someone named Helga, the Small Helga name had to go to the only other redhead.
Common Arthur is very common. He is faceless and sad.
Help us help Common Arthur.
Donations accepted.




 Whitebeard.
Has that same disease as Robin Williams in that film, Jack, where he ages prematurely. So, though he looks roughly 167 years old, Whitebeard is only 28.




Uncle Blackbeard.
Devine baker of casseroles.




Damn, we missed one.
This dwarf is special because he is utterly forgettable. I think he really likes oil paintings?



Percival Goatface.
Percival Goatface grew up in a pine tree without a family. Does not like country music or popsicles.





Starfish.
Helps braid Vast Helga's hair every morning.
It should also be mentioned that Starfish always wins 1st prize at the annual flower show for his magnificent petunias.




Dobby.
Used to be a pirate, but has traded in his hardened criminal past for a brighter future. Has recently discovered his love of theater. Catch him as Feste in Twelfth Night this summer.




Also, shout out to my favorite character of The Hobbit, dragon who just wants to sit in piles of gold coins for hundreds of years. Because that is hilarious. His only aspiration. He just wants to sit on coins. Amazing.


5.28.2014

"And straight on to" mourning the loss of your freedom.

So I'm going to continue this series of exploring the sexist themes of Disney movies. Because, why not? I always enjoy writing when I'm procrastinating a larger task at hand. So. Okay.


1951. Peter Pan




It's quite hard to defend accusations of Disney's blatant sexism and racism when citing this movie as an example. I mean, true, Peter Pan was originally written by J.M. Barrie, but still. We could have done without the "What Makes the Red Man Red?" song.

Wendy. I always hated Wendy, but I was wrong to. Not only was she basically a live-in servant to her brothers (I might be exaggerating) but she was brought to Neverland by the boy she had crush on to be his friends' MOTHER. Because, as a woman, that's all she's good for anyway.

Women tear each other down in this movie. It's so unhealthy. Wendy, the Mermaids, Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily are all in love with the same arrogant, misogynistic, pointy-eared creep in tights. Which would be fine if they had a reason. But they don't. He happens to be the main character, so they MUST have him. And he plays them all. Sure he's "brave," but is he really? He pulls pranks on dim-witted pirates, does that make a person courageous? Disney declares, "yes, definitely."

But we can't blame these women, entirely, for their actions.

I think Peter Pan might be a sociopath. He has death-gripping control over these women and doesn't seem to be the least bit phased by the negative consequences of his actions. He thinks himself invincible and free of all blame. Nothing and no one can touch him. Enchanting manipulation holds the girls captive and is the reason they lash out at each other instead of banding together to take Pan down.

I think we all need to question, what is pixie dust, really, and does it contain some sort of hallucinogen? If so, he wields a dangerous weapon.

I have concluded that there are very little redeeming qualities to this movie.



2.03.2014

So this is L--my only way out?

I don't know if specified in the last post, so I guess I should probably explain the whole reason why I'm even ranting about Disney characters. It's mostly because Disney has been accused of sexism (by me and many, many others) for superficial, and at best, slightly misogynistic characters and plot lines in their movies, especially the early ones. And these accusations are not unfounded for a myriad of reasons. However, being who I am, I've got to question it. All of it. So here goes.



1950. Cinderella.





Normally I am morally opposed to the I'm just going to sit here and wish that my true love will save me one day, and if he does, I will marry him at first sight and then, and only then, will my life mean something sort of themes because I find them impossibly sexist, ill-advised and insulting. However, in Cinderella's and Snow White's cases, you have to be a bit more understanding.

When it all comes down to it, these are battered women. Now, of course their abusers are actually their stepmothers and not brutish, overly-aggressive cavemen, but nonetheless, each have been terribly mistreated by people they really have no choice but to live with. It's imperative to their health and safety that they get out of these toxic environments. A complete stranger who can offer some sort of refuge definitely resides on the greener side of the fence. And, hey, he might as well be a prince.





I mean, let's look at their list of no choices:

1. Die

2. Live


You can't fault them for picking the option that includes not only less chores but potential happiness even if it is abrupt, slightly insane and rash. It's called survival.

(It's okay if you're still skeptical.)


Although Cinderella isn't the strongest role model, at least she's resourceful. And she's brave. She doesn't let her slave-driver captors ruin her spirit.



Buuuut, she is also incredibly lucky. Having the ability to make a Fairy Godmother appear out of nowhere when you most need her is a talent that few have been able to posses.


(But don't forget that Cinderella and Snow White both have weird and somewhat unhealthy relationships with animals. We still can't eliminate the very real possibility of a psych disorder in both cases.)







Snow White and the Seven Reasons You're Glad You're Not A Disney Character from 1937

(I actually don't have a list of 7 reasons, that was just supposed to be a clever title. Sorry for lying.)

I'm going to begin this post like I haven't been away from blogging for a month.

So I wrote a post a while ago (has it really been 3 years?) about Disney Princesses and how they perpetuate the patriarchal oppression that we females try so hard to stamp out (I say that like I'm some revolutionary activist instead of what I actually am, which is a sad, hypocritical 20-something perpetual student drinking sweet tea on her bed).

I actually hate that post because it's poorly written and doesn't fully express my opinion on all things Female-Disney-Characters-related. So I hope to correct that. Because I have nothing better to do.... Oh wait.


So tonight I'm going to be more critical, and also more forgiving (is that possible?). That post was sadly and weirdly outdated (why did I leave out so many characters?). We are going to talk about  ALL of the most popular female Disney characters. Not just the princesses, because, honestly, excluding the other characters just because they're not royal, makes me just as bad as the people who created them. Wow. Just call me Lorde.


(kidding)




This post would be bible-scroll-length if I tried to talk about all the characters at the same time. So we are going to split these up.

Okay. Chronologically, probably?


1937. Snow White.

I wasn't very understanding last time. But now that I've actually thought about her situation, there are a few things I want to explore. First off, this story takes place some time in the Middle Ages or shortly thereafter, right? This was a time in the world when psych medicine, along with all medicine (except for snake oil?) was nonexistent. There was no Seroquel or mental screenings. She had few resources. So, knowing this, I'm completely aware that Snow White had no way of treating or even knowing she had some sort of mental disorder.

She didn't know any better, guys. It's okay. If your brain never progressed past the mental capacity of a 5-year-old, you too would listen to the birds and decide it was okay to just walk into a small cottage full of sexually repressed, middle-aged men, and cook and clean for them. I don't begrudge her these actions. She had no way of knowing.

I mean, years of abuse can emotionally and mentally stunt a person. There's no room for growth when you fear your very existence. Maslow's hierarchy, people. (Am I getting too far into this?)

Alternatively, I've also considered that she knew exactly what she was doing, and did these things because literally anything would be better than living with a crazy witch who wanted to kill her. I mean, in the end, marrying a complete stranger, who may or may not really be a Prince (Yea, I bet you want to show her your "throne" and "big scepter", alright.) was her only way out. Resourceful, no?

So she's either suffering from disease or completely cunning. It's impossible to know without accurate medical records.





Delving into Cinderella's life and motives will also help us to understand Snow White. And that's coming soon.

Until then,


Psychotically Yours,

Lex


(there are about 32 things I should have done instead of write this)