Saturday, August 13, 2011

It gets better.

This first part will probably sound a little boast-y, but hang in there. There's a point to my peacock strut. And no, this isn't connected to the LGBT community-targeted "It gets better" campaign. This is for everyone.

A while back during graduation season I attended one of my good friend's graduation parties. I knew there would be people from high school/middle school there; people I hadn't seen in years and really had no interest in seeing, but went for my friend (sucks, doesn't that? But apparently that's what adults do). I was kind of a loser in high school/middle school. I had a lot of friends but because kids are mean by default, I still got picked on a lot for various reasons, whatever. We all do. I was an ugly duckling and was full of teenage angst, which is a deadly combination.

Anyhow, I showed up at this party wearing my big girl attitude, fully ready to be judged by jerks/jerkettes who haven't left hs/ms years behind. I was met with a pretty hilarious surprise. Somehow, I was the hot girl now. Ain't that some shit? I will fully admit that I am a hell of a lot better looking now than I was in those days, but I had dudes stuttering and chicks staring DAGGERS at me. I have never experienced that before in my life anywhere, and if you had told me five years ago that that would happen, I would laugh in your face. While it was a weird experience it was oddly gratifying. As mean as it sounds, if someone tells you they get no satisfaction from seeing school bullies/general douche-rockets doing worse than they are years later, they're LYING.

Is that immature? Probably. Satisfying nonetheless, though.

But all the nostalgia mad me do something this morning. I pulled out my old yearbooks—two from middle school and one from my senior year of high school—and went through them in chronological order. The photos of myself still make me cringe, even though I tell myself NOW that it was an awkward stage for everybody.

I remembered people that I hadn't thought about it years, and it made me shudder to realize how many kids are dead now. I'm only 22, HS class of 2007. It's 2011, and since graduation there have been way too many deaths, especially suicides. The fact that there were so many kids that didn't even get bullied that took that way out is alarming. Because it made me think about what kind of things that they must have been dealing with that were WORSE. I thought I had been having a pretty shitty time back then, but there were people who were suffering even worse off.

Much like they must have, I thought I was literally a nothing, and a nobody that would never go anywhere. Then I read the signatures. Signatures that I admittedly disregarded back then, but reading them this morning made me cry. Two in particular—one from  girl that I have all the respect in the world for, and one from a BRILLIANT English teacher. Really long messages telling me that they knew I would go places with my writing, and they knew I that with it, I could do great things. There were a lot of signatures saying nice things and giving nice wishes, etc. But honestly? These were the only two that mattered. And that it because they were the only two that I knew were honest.

I'm out to prove these two people right with a vengeance. It probably sounds corny, but I always believed in these two people and it means everything to me that they believe in me. I know I didn't have it GREAT in high school, a lot of people don't. I know this is different from my usual snark, but it needs to be said. I know that not even a lot of people will read this, and that's fine. But for anyone who does, who might be having some of those self doubt-y feelings, or feel like they'll never be anything, please, please, please take it from me. There are people out there who KNOW (not think) you are wonderful. It does get better.

glitter heart Pictures, Images and Photos

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

MORE things I don't get/ that are inappropriate.

Let's talk about more things that don't make shit's sense to me.

How come, whenever we see those dramatic book covers on vampire romance novels, the girl always has the bite marks near the bottom of her neck? The fuck is that about? The jugular vein is up way closer to your jaw than it is to your shoulders. BUT I guess it's not sexy, since people don't usually give jaw-hickies. Regardless, that shit bothers me. It is inaccurate. ]: I'm not usually that person, where everything has to be scientifically accurate, but sometimes things that just don't make sense bug me. Vampires: you'd get WAY more blood if you just moved your mouth up two inches. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

Then again, weird things bother me. This is one my boyfriend will never let me live down: You know that scene in Willy Wonka where they're in the room with the chocolate river and all the edible garden stuff? Well, it has always bothered me that those kids and Willy took about ONE BITE out of everything and then just moved on to the next thing. Growing up for me, you didn't just leave half-eaten shit laying around. So meanwhile, while all the other kids watching the movie were saying, "OMG Wow, I wish I was in that room!" little Kate was saying, "THEY'RE WASTING SO MUCH FOOD! D:"

Clearly, my priorities are out of whack. Good thing I don't curr.

But as far as priorities go, I don't think I'm as bad off as I could be. Since we seem to be in another slew of horrible films (except for Harry Potter—recognized), I have noticed a pattern developing that is sending out some pretty shoddy life messages to children. Now, normally I think kids are pretty smart and can figure out right from wrong with some coaching from their parents, but this is just some superficial nonsense. There are a lot of movies these days where the main character is rejected by their crush at first when said main character is unattractive. Then, they get some sort of makeover or change and suddenly, their crush is all over them. What the hell kind of message is that? CAPTAIN AMERICA, I'm looking at you. #sideeye
Image and video hosting by TinyPic

Speaking of kids, I miss mine. I had a classroom last summer, where I was a job trainer for 13-17 year olds. Now, I stayed really close with my supervisor/colleagues from that job, so I went back to visit yesterday and it made me super nostalgic. I really like working with teenagers. "But aren't kids brats?!" Well sure, but I've met more bratty adults tbqh. If they respect you, and you respect them, what's the problem? Anyway, since I work at home it was elating to spend time with that many other people that I had missed all at once, and really inspiring. I came home and just wanted to DO stuff. Of course, then I came off of my caramel machiatto high and felt more tired than I had felt in my whole life. And then I got too tired to write.

Inspiration fail!