My Dream of Being a Red Head

I totally wished I could have been a red head, a beautiful curly haired red head. And then I grew up, realized not only that I couldn’t, but that it wouldn’t look good.

I was talking to my friends about what we did to our hair when we were younger, and they were saying they really wanted the pin straight hair and tanned skin.

And this just cemented this idea to me that: we always want what we can’t have, don’t we?

Now they’ve accepted their hair, but it was hard and a journey.

It is a journey to go against the mainstream culture and the media’s image of beauty. I guess for me this wasn’t so much of a problem because no matter what I did, I could never be what that image was and I resigned myself to that. I could never change my skin and tan was only in style during summer.

But for those who were closer to that, there was a sense that if only x were different than they could be that image. I don’t know which is worse, but I feel like they had it harder. I never tried to perm my hair, I did dye it. I saw it as unattainable and moved on. The obsession with red curly hair died first with the acceptance of straight hair, and then with the acceptance of black hair.

But I thought I would just write here my school hood dream for kicks.

Selfie Stick

On my recent trip to England I purchased a selfie stick. For those who are not aware of what it is, it is a very stereotypically Asian tourist device, and it allows the person to extend the reach of their arm via an expandable stick which has a phone at one end for them to take photos of themselves versus the conventional selfie (self portrait picture).

First off, let me preface this by saying I am very pleased with the differences in photo quality. It has allowed me to get the actual scenery that surround me in the picture and it is a great asset to have when traveling alone and without people to take photos.

But the selfie stick is somewhat stigmatized and so I felt very conflicted about buying it. I knew it would make me look super touristy, but also ostracized from my friends. I’m not sure how ‘cool’ selfies are.

I asked my friends before buying it, and they said they wouldn’t talk to me in public or acknowledge me in public with it. I knew they were joking, but it was still telling of the public disgrace and shame it would bring on me.

But nonetheless I bought it.

But why? I wanted one forever and I let what people think of me and what it would mean stop me from buying it.

But what it came down to was: I bought it because it made me happy and I realized that that is the only reason I need.

This really touched me because I went against what I thought I should do and listened to my heart and I am so glad I did.

I don’t usually do this, I care a lot, too much, about what people think about me, and my general image. I know I shouldn’t, but these are the thoughts that go through my mind. I didn’t used to, but somewhere along the way, I picked up this care about what people thought about me.

Well, perhaps this is change.

Recent Newsletter Problems

I have been recently having problems with the newsletter. I post new posts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but I’ve just checked and an email hasn’t been sent out since July 3. So this is a test of sort with a new template to see if it works. If you’ve missed out recently on posts, this would be a good reminder to check in to the site and see the posts you’ve missed! Sorry for any problems, I’m working on it!

Eating Behavior

I noticed how my eating behavior changes whether I’m eating with my partner or not.

This happens all the time with my partner. My partner eats more than I do , and faster than I do, and frequently can finish the food of others. My partner has a totally different eating schedule that doesn’t always coincide with mine as well. For these reasons, and many more, my eating habits are changed since I’ve gotten here.

I noticed it when I was in England and eating alone, well in a group, but without my partner. I ate a lot more. I shared food a ton, but when I ordered my food, I seemed to find more space.

And I realized it’s because I stop myself at just shy of full and offer the food I have to my partner. I did this subconsciously without thinking about it. I don’t blame him, it was my decision, but it’s something I noticed.

I eat enough to be full and offer the food. It’s something I’ve tried to get better at. But my partner eats more than I do and faster, so it usually works.

I’m not placing blame at all, I’m merely sharing what I have observed.

And in England, I just kept eating, I did get too full and have to offer some food up, but I passed just shy of full and went on.

But even now, I still feel guilty when I am not done, and there’s food on my plate I could give away and still be full.

So it’s clearly not all gone, but that’s okay with me. Progress is slow and finding my own limits is difficult, but I’m getting better at it.

Personal Bubble

I rarely like to get into contact with people. There are exceptions of course, friends and family, but with strangers I don’t appreciate them coming within my personal space bubble.

I don’t like it for many reasons. First of all, I like my personal bubble. Second, I think it’s rude. Third, it’s also a matter of safety.

For whatever reason the other day a man got into my personal bubble. The train wasn’t even that crowded, it was getting full, but it wasn’t packed. And either way he decided to move into my space where I had to move to accommodate him. Even then he still bumped into me.

And this really bothered me, if it was me, or even just, usually, another woman this wouldn’t have happened. I hate intruding into other’s personal space and always feel tremendously guilty about it and avoid it at all costs. As well, this is what I have encountered with women as well.

It’s not only on a train that I encounter this, but also on the street. When two people are walking towards each other, I always move, and I’ve found when I don’t, and a man is walking towards me, he will not move. It’s like I am expected to move, and if I don’t, then I get run into.

What is it about the gender differences that encourage women to shrink into spaces, to move away, and men to expand?

I’m not saying all people are like this, obviously there are exceptions, but this is just a general trend I’ve run into.

Why should I have to shrink away to nothing in order to live? Maybe that’s a very elitist thing to think, that I deserve space, but I think I shouldn’t have to monitor all the time the space I take up and then shrink, and then still get bumped into. That’s just the last straw.

I deserve to have the space I need to breathe, to live, to exist.

Editing

I could never be an editor. While I think I can offer good advice and suggestions, I am not discerning enough.

For one, I usually find the best in books especially. I am not very picky, and it doesn’t take a lot for me to think it’s an okay, if not good  book. I also have very specific weak spots that aren’t the best books, but will keep me coming back. I’m not picky enough. I can usually find things that will redeem it in my mind. I’ve rarely, if ever, given a book two stars on Goodreads.

And secondly, I don’t think I could tell someone their stuff isn’t good and they need to take out things. I don’t like confrontation and so that would be difficult enough, but as well I don’t have the personality to do that. It’s not ruthlessness, but I don’t have that quality of brutal honesty usually. I can be if I need to be, but I would say I am one of tact and grace. I like the path of least resistance, in certain cases, and I don’t like confrontation or stress.

I myself am very sensitive to critique and criticism, so to be on the other end of that would be difficult, I think, to do.

So am I sure of what I would do? No, but at this moment, I don’t think I have it in me to be an editor.

But maybe given what I said above, I would be able to edit in a kind and considerate way and do so with support? I guess I could try.

But I even hate editing my own work, but maybe I would be better at editing someone else’s work?

I also don’t want to merge my passion and hobby – reading and my job. I don’t want there to be a chance I wouldn’t enjoy reading.

So maybe I’m just not cut out for it.

Sims

I used to play the Sims all the time and it always made me think, what if we are all Sims?

What if there’s someone up there, not necessarily looking after us, but controlling our motions? We, like in most of the games, would have our own sense of free will, but a controller of some sort above us?

It’s a crazy sort of idea, and I’ve just abandoned it, but it just makes me wonder.

We can’t really ever know for sure, so who is to say my idea is more of less crazy?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really believe this, so if you disagree, it’s totally fine with me.

But if we can never know for certain, so the possibility could exist, yes?

I don’t really have anything else to say about this topic, it’s just an idea I get sometimes when I wonder both about if I am a sim, and how I would even know if I was.

The What If Game

There are certain people or certain situations where I wonder, what if.

I think it’s a natural tendency to look at your life with curiosity and wonder how things would be different if a situation changed or actions with a person were changed. How might things have changed? Would the life now be the same?

Of course not. Every small individual action that happens changes the life we lead, maybe in small imperceptible differences, but in some way none the less.

It’s sort of a fun thought experiment to wonder what would have happened, but it’s important not to get lost in it. I can’t go back and change what happened, so while it is a rainy day dream, it can never be more than that. Even trying to recreate it or finally say things you wish you had won’t bring you back to that moment.

That moment is something that will never come back. We can never recapture it or relive in, not in the same way as we do when we live the moment. With the benefit of hindsight we could all be different, maybe better or worse people, but we only have the benefit of hindsight after the moment is over. A realization like this forces us to live in the moment, knowing we can never repeat it or recapture it. We must live knowing that our actions and words can never be deleted or changed, not like on the internet. We must live knowing to savor the moment when it’s precious, even if we could go back, knowing it would never be the same. It forces us to be in the present, completely, and ultimately, because anything else is a dream.

Flying

There’s something so intoxicating about flying.

There’s an utter terror that I feel whenever we take off where I hold my breath and count to ten until I remember how to breathe.

But after that, there’s this sense of weightlessness and clarity.

Above the world without control, there’s a moment of inner peace (for me), where I hand over the reigns and resign myself to whatever happens.

I fly above the clouds and above the people, above all that lies beneath me. I know at some point I’ll touch down again and be returned to the real world, but for the moment, I exist quite literally above it.

The only problems I have are those with me.

And then there’s that heart stopping moment when we descend from above the beautiful pillowy clouds and the view from above takes your breath away. The world is instantly returned back to you, and there’s a moment where everything else in the world just seems so small, so tiny.

It makes me feel so light and above the world, not in a superior way, but in a literal sense.

And isn’t it a wonder that people even figured out how to do this flying business? A person thought one day, I could do this and they risked their life to try. Courage.

I am always in awe.

Return!

I returned on Friday from my trip to England, but needed the whole weekend to rest. I slept almost entirely one day. I returned seriously stressed and sleep deprived and needed the safe and secure place to sleep.

I’ll elaborate on the trip in a series of blog posts after this, but I just wanted to give a quick update.

The trip was beautiful, stressful, and intense.

There were moments of exquisite sights, intense frustration, and sleep deprivation.

But I survived, my luggage and I. I came out alive and now I just need to rest and gain back some of my sanity.