Day Five: My Short Skirt

Of all the clubs I could have joined in college, I joined VOX: Voices for Planned Parenthood. It's not exactly the club you want to be a part of when you're in the middle of the Bible Belt and everyone looks at you like you have herpes, when that's what you're trying to prevent in the first place, among other things like pregnancy and AIDs.

We work in conjunction with the local Planned Parenthood organization and promote safe sex and awareness. The month of April was Get Yourself Tested month and yesterday we celebrated Take Back the Night. Take Back the Night is an event that occurs nationwide to help raise awareness of sexual violence and assault. It's gotten to the point where people can't feel safe walking alone at night for fear of what might happen. We had several girls tell their stories, a couple skits from the Vagina Monologues and then paraded around campus to take back the streets, and take back our night. We shouldn't have to feel afraid, but the reality is that it can happen to literally anyone.

So, in honor of last night, I'm posting the poem, "My Short Skirt," which is a part of the Vagina Monologues. Enjoy.

My Short Skirt

It is not an invitation
a provocation
an indication
that I want it
or give it
or that I hook.

My short skirt
is not begging for it
it does not want you
to rip it off me
or pull it down.

My short skirt
is not a legal reason
for raping me
although it has been before
it will not hold up
in the new court.

My short skirt, believe it or not
has nothing to do with you.

My short skirt
is about discovering
the power of my lower calves
about cool autumn air traveling
up my inner thighs
about allowing everything I see
or pass or feel to live inside.

My short skirt is not proof
that I am stupid
or undecided
or a malleable little girl.

My short skirt is my defiance
I will not let you make me afraid
My short skirt is not showing off
this is who I am
before you made me cover it
or tone it down.
Get used to it.

My short skirt is happiness
I can feel myself on the ground.
I am here. I am hot.

My short skirt is a liberation
flag in the women's army
I declare these streets, any streets
my vagina's country.

My short skirt
is turquoise water
with swimming colored fish
a summer festival
in the starry dark
a bird calling
a train arriving in a foreign town
my short skirt is a wild spin
a full breath
a tango dip
my short skirt is
initiation
appreciation
excitation.

But mainly my short skirt
and everything under it
is Mine.
Mine.
Mine.

Shatter the Silence, Stop the violence.

Day Four: Sometimes I'm Ashamed to be American

When I registered for classes this semester, Intro to Philosophy was full. I opted for Intro to Religion instead [funny choice for an atheist, but I digress]. We're nearing the end of the semester and so far we've covered several philosophies as to what religion is to people and the major world religions. Now, we're covering religion in everyday life. One of the topics we covered was the Iraeli-Palestinian conflict.

I wont pretend I'm well versed in politics, foreign policy or even the everyday news. It's not something I have ever held much interest in or honestly, can even entirely understand. After discussing the conflict and seeing a documentary on what has been happening in Palestine, I can honestly say, that if what we have been taught is real, then I am not really proud of being an American in this situation. Maybe I'm ignorant of what's really going on or am too young to comprehend everything, but from what I've learned, I feel something just isn't right.

For those that don't know much about the conflict, I'll give you what my basic interpretations are. Israel/Palestine is the holy land which is important in the three religions of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. Each religion has been trying to take control of this land because it is important to them. After WWII, the UN decided to give it to the Jewish people as a way to apologize for the Holocaust. However, many Muslim people in addition to the Jews inhabited this land. The Dome of the Rock [a great mosque] is even located in Jerusalem. The Jews pushed about 750,000 Palestinian people out of Israel or into the Gaza strip and West Bank. From then on, the Israelis have taken full control over the Palestinian areas and control every aspect of Palestinian life. Despite both sides being violent, many more Palestinian people have been killed than Israeli people.

Being the country we are, we get involved in everything [perhaps another ignorant statement]. The US has sided with Israel, for 3 reasons we learned. 1) The US does not want to be labeled anti-semitic. 2) Israel is considered a Western ally. 3) The US is a Christian nation [and here I thought no official religion would be established?] and those that are radically devout and follow the Bible quite literally feel that the holy land was given to Abraham by God and that shouldn't be questioned. These people are also a large voting block.

As a country we support people oppressing other people. The US even funded the building of suburbs within the West Bank by Israelis despite it being intended as Palestinian land. The Palestinians live in small camps surrounded by Israeli camps and they are persecuted and humiliated on a day to day basis. Lots of newborns have died because Palestinian women were not allowed to cross the check point and thus could not reach a hospital. Life there seems nearly unbearable.

In class today we read an article that President Obama is looking into addressing this issue, which makes me feel a little better. I'm ashamed though, because our country supports such a horrific thing. People are people and all people deserve to be treated equally no matter their beliefs, where they came from, etc. No one deserves to be oppressed and treated the way these people have over a piece of land, or anything for that matter. I may be countered with "Well, Palestinians are suicide bombers", and that's fine. But, how would you feel if you were treated like they are day in and day out? Wouldn't you be ready to retaliate too? That's all besides the point though. However, I'm even more ashamed that as an American I didn't even know this was happening. I hope that when I have kids, they don't see the world like this. Though, I feel it will almost be inevitable.

Day Three: On the Bright Side

I complain, a lot. At least I think I do. Today, I'm in the mood to complain. But, for everything I complain about, I will write something positive.

>> I sent emails to 3 colleges in Puerto Rico about admissions there, an email to my university about a portion of my application to PR they'd need to fill out and an email to my parents a week ago. I have yet to get any responses.

On the bright side... It's 80 degrees and sunny out. I love this weather.

>> I started trying to get in shape in the event that I do join the military... not that it would hurt either way. My abs are killing me and I can't do a single sit up today.

On the bright side... I can do 25 push ups off the counter instead of the wall.

>> Facebook says I have 109 friends. Out of 109, I talk to maybe 2. I don't even like half the people on my friendslist, but I feel like I'd be offending them if I deleted them.

On the bright side... I know who my [2] real friends are.

>> My phone's been acting ridiculous and drops my phone calls. Constantly. T-Mobile wasn't very helpful in trying to fix it the last 3 times I've talked to someone from the company about this problem.

On the bright side... The text messaging feature still works. It hasn't hindered my conversations with my boyfriend.

Well, I feel better getting that all out now.

Day Two: Two Peas in a Pod

My boyfriend and I had a conversation about dancing tonight. Somehow, that conversation led us to talking about how neither of us really have friends. From there, I got to thinking, I don't want to be like my parents when I'm older. They don't have friends. Not really anyways. My mom has acquaintances from work or girlfriends from years ago she goes out to lunch with once in a blue moon. My dad, well... I don't really know about my dad. He doesn't really talk to anyone. All my parents really have is each other, and that gets to be overwhelming even for them sometimes. I'm shocked they haven't gotten divorced yet.

When I was a little kid, the friend thing was never a problem for me. I played with all the neighborhood kids, had three best friends in elementary school. I was normal. Then we moved, but I found it easy to make friends. It wasn't until high school that I found it to be difficult.

Middle school drama took away the group of friends I did have and my first year of high school, I was one of the guys. You can't really talk to guys about girl problems, crushes and shopping though. As high school progressed, I managed to gain a few more friends, but never had a best friend or close group of friends. I stuck to acquaintances because I guess it made my life easier. Lonelier, but easier. My weekends were spent at home while everyone went out and I was content to be left out of drama. Funny how it still manages to get you every now and again though.

Now that I'm in college, making friends is difficult. I've gotten really used to being alone or being a "single serving friend" as Tyler Durden would say. The first day of class at my first college, I watched two guys walk up to each other, slap each others hands and instantly become friends. Why can't everyone be like that? When I transferred schools, I started making friends with the girls on my floor after meeting one girl at bingo. After a few weeks I'd worn myself out of spending time with them. I'm even tired of the few people I still talk to from back home. I'm back to being alone. I'm not sad because I'm alone. I'm aware that I did that on my own by isolating myself. I'm just sad that I do isolate myself.

Hopefully, someday, I'll be able to be less introverted and accept people for how they are without losing my patience so fast, to learn to balance being around them so that I don't lose my mind. I don't want to live my life alone with only my spouse, and friends I see twice a year for an awkward catch up dinner at alternating houses.

On the bright side, I finally have a best friend. Me and my boyfriend are just two peas in a pod. We may be alone, but we have each other.

Picture : Mouse. [It's a hippo, I'm aware]. My boyfriend gave it to me for Christmas. He's like our son.

Day One: The Eternal Transfer Student

I change my mind. A lot. I wouldn't consider myself overly impulsive or irrational. Just... indecisive.

I'm an 18 year old college Freshman and I'm stuck in the cliche life stage of "finding myself". I'm well aware I'm not under any expectations to know my life's calling, or to have a set plan for the next however many years. Completely the opposite, I'm sure. First year students aren't expected to declare a major or to have a clue as to what they want out of life. You're set if you can just make it through your first year without succumbing to an overwhelming amount of independence and a WOW subscription. Well, that's what I got out of the orientation lecture at least. These being the expectations, I guess I've met them.

My first semester of college was spent in paradise. Well, that's how the brochures wanted you to think it was. I went to a small school in Florida, about 1400 kids. The college emphasized its heavy Presbyterian influence over and over during opening ceremony. Once the parents had cleared out, it was pretty obvious it was all a front. The school was nothing but drinking, smoking and nonstop partying. I don't drink or smoke, and maybe that's a rant for another day. Needless to say, I was very uncomfortable.

From there, I entered the world of transfer students. I decided I'd change my major from psychology to radiography. [Radiography, not to be confused with Radiology, as in a doctor who works with cancer. Just the tech that takes the x-rays]. Because my parents refused to let community college be an option [neither of them finished school, mind you, and therefore a bachelor's degree in anything, according to my mom, is imperative], I had to find a school which offered a BS in Radiography Technology or something of that sort. There are only about 6 schools in the US that offer that. None of them looked promising. [Did I mention how picky I am? I'm a very picky person.] With deadlines approaching quickly, I picked a school in Missouri and that was the end of that. Or, so I thought... It took about half the transfer student orientation before I tried to redeclare my major to nursing.

I went from being at a super liberal school where half the student body is made up of out of state//international students, at least 50% are atheist or of differing religions and at least 50% were of different races , to a school where 99% of the kids are from Missouri, 97% of them are white and about 98.2% are Christian. I'm neither from Missouri, white [entirely], or Christian. So, again, the cheese stands alone.

Will I eternally be a transfer student? This is where my indecisions come in. I'm battling it out between going back to school in VA, where I'm from, going to school in Puerto Rico, where my dad's from, or just putting a hold on school and joining the Air Force.

Virginia's not appealing whatsoever, but then again, as picky as I am, neither are 48 other states in the country to me. This is how I rationalize the continental US in my head. Sorry to those I offend. It's not intentional.

Northeast - Too cold, too stuck up. South - Two words: Confederate Flag. Midwest - Bible belt, middle of no where. Southwest - Too hot, official language is typically Spanish. This is NOT Mexico last I checked. Anywhere bordering Canada - Too cold. I dislike Mountains. Hawaii - Pretty, but airfare is ridiculous. Virginia - 18 years and I still don't love it. That pretty much leaves me with Florida and California. And the only compelling reasons are warm weather, and a beach. But, Florida's known for it's party schools and California's too liberal for me.

At some point, I just have to suck it up and learn to be okay with it. I'm aware picking a school has to do more with the education than the location, but I don't want to be utterly miserable wherever I go.

And then there's the Air Force. The benefits of the Air Force? Most importantly, if I joined the Air Force, I wouldn't be allowed to change my mind. Dishonorable discharge is not really something I want to be associated with. I also do much better with people telling me what to do. This whole inability to make decisions thing would be resolved with having orders to follow instead. So it's settled then. Join the Air Force. Well, I have to decide if compromising a degree in nursing would be worth it. You can't become a nurse in the Air Force. You have to take your free time and put it towards going to school, which for me is plausible, but I'd have to have a job doing something else in the mean time. Oh yeah.. then there's parents. They aren't too fond of the whole enlisting thing. They're more the, "if you're going to be in the military, you have to be an officer", type people.

So here I am. Indecisive with decisions to make.

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