M.I.W {Also Known As Missing In Writing}

It has been rather quiet here for quite some time. I love blogging but so far I have not found my niche. If I could just pinpoint it– something fresh, quirky and full of personality– I would be extremely happy. It is not that I am necessarily disappointed with what I have posted so far (by all means, I enjoy reflection) but constantly talking about myself and personal reflections is not what I want my page to be all about.

All I need is just that little spark of inspiration.

Can You Hear Me ______, It’s Me ______

When I was little, I was scared of having a bad thought (whether it be a negative opinion about someone or having sex or whatever it may be) because I believed that my dead grandfather and dead stepbrother could hear all of my thoughts. That was not the end of it though. I always felt them, looking right over me and shaking their heads, whenever I acted in a way that I would never want my parents to know. Of course it could have just been my conscience but it does make me wonder. When an individual dies, can they hear our thoughts and see everything we do? Are they by any chance sitting right besides us, shaking their heads when we happen to mess up?

I have been taught to believe that once an individual is dead, they are gone for good but I do not believe that is the case. I believe some people get reincarnated, because they have a certain path to fulfill and experience while those who have already done this become guardians to their loved ones. Even though I did not know him well I think my stepbrother is trying to guide me along, so that I succeed and while that could be good, it also feels like I am disappointing a lot more people.

Or am I just, in all actuality, disappointing myself?

Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop

I like shopping at the Gap, Urban Outfitters, Levi’s, and occasionally Abercrombie & Fitch. Call me materialistic but I like items that have brand names and they are usually the items that cost more. I am not rich, far from it actually and even though my parents taught me the value of a dollar I will still spend $300 on a Coach wallet if I like it. Money, as useful as it is, will not make me happy unless I am reaping its benefits. It is the way I have always lived my life. I indulge, and do not allow myself to be restricted when the money is available.

I remember a day, back in high school, when I was casually walking around New York City with my then best friend. We walked into the Gap for a moment because I wanted to buy myself a long sleeved shirt. It was a plain black cotton and I paid $15 for it. Frankly, I did not care. I liked the shirt, wanted the shirt, had the money for the shirt logically I bought the shirt. As we walked out of the store my then best friend turned to me and said “You won’t be able to shop at the Gap when you’re in college. You’ll be a broke college kid. Maybe you should stop spending the way you do.”

I find it funny to think back on that moment because I find that I am still able to shop at the Gap, and actually I spend far more now than I did then. And sure, I am a “broke college kid” but I am a broke college kid that knows when to save and when to spend. I believe her comment came out of her own issues with money and a tinge of jealousy because my parents would give me an allowance despite the hardship. It was like the moment when I told her I wanted to go to Victoria’s Secret to buy a pair of underwear and she responded with “You’re going to pay that much for a pair of underwear?” before turning around and buying multiple bras at the previously mentioned store.

Amazing, the things you come to realize when you think back.

Support Networks

Very rarely, do we take the time to think about our judgments. We judge far too much and do not consider the support others might need to succeed in life. In life, we cannot just lean on others and expect that they do not need us to lean on. If we are able to switch off, and lean on each other then we can get so much farther.

I say this because time and time again when I try to change my eating habits, and the amount of fitness I get in a day I find that people are so quick to judge. I find that not one of my friends is able to turn to me and say “Good job today on heading to the gym! Good job on not having that cookie and opting for an apple!” but they can easily laugh at me when I chart my calories or get 2 munchkins instead of a coffee roll at Dunkin Donuts. They do not take the time to understand that I am not doing it “to be skinny” or “conform to society’s ideals on beauty”. They cannot fathom that I would simply like to run a mile, or be able to walk up 5 flights of stairs without getting winded. Or that I would like to not worry about having high cholestoral or being scared of a heart attack due to clogged arteries. They see it all on the surface and that is not the case.

I do not even wish to tell my friends what I am doing to change my lifestyle. I keep quite about going to the gym, or not eating too many calories or having a fruit instead of ice cream because I know they simply continue to judge, and make me feel like I should not be doing what I am doing. I refuse to let them stop me.

Fear of Commitment

Commitment.

It’s a simple three syllable word that is used fairly often. You can commit to a relationship, or to keeping a promise. You can commit a murder. You can commit yourself to God’s principles or commit to running a mile. There are a lot of things you can commit yourself to and yet, I do not commit. Or at least when I do commit, it is a partial commitment. Somehow, I can not pull myself to commit fully to anything. So, it is surprising to me that I have started to go to the gym and actually kept at it for the past 2 weeks. Granted, I still have time to screw it all up but something just keeps me going.

Why can’t that transfer over to all parts of my life? Why I can’t I make final decisions and not be scared that maybe the alternative will be better? I bring this up because I am constantly analyzing myself, and I will pick up on so many things nowadays–the way I walk, or sit, or talk, or act with people– that make me wonder if I would be happier as a guy. And if the answer is yes, what then? What does that mean for my love of heels, skirts, dresses, long hair, makeup, nail polish? I would have to give up so many different things, and for what? To be marginalized in a completely new way? And to think, all the explaining I would have to do.

I wish, decisions came easy. If they were, I do not think I would be so scared of committing because it would not be a matter of negatives and positives. It would just be a matter of being happy but happiness is so far when heart strings are being pulled in different directions.

The Stereotypes of “True Life”

Recently, MTV chose to cover Nuyoricans for their documentary-esque show “True Life.” As an individual of Hispanic heritage that hails from New York, I find it great that a television network would want to cover a group of marginalized individuals and depict them in a more honest light but in all actuality “True Life” falls extremely short on its purpose. In picking participants for the episode, MTV chose 3 individuals whom: 1) all dropped out of high school or did not attend college; 2) all spoke some sort of slang or in a stereotypical “Nuyorican” dialect; 3) live in or say they hail from the Bronx; and 4) live in a housing situation that is stereotypical within potrayal of the media.

First off, I find it problematic that MTV only choses to pick a highly limited number of individuals. There has to be someone within the production team of “True Life” that has taken psychology and has learned that studies are generally done on larger populations because they will provide more realistic results. It is not surprising that MTV “True Life: I’m A Nuyorican” was such a skewed view when we see that only 3 individuals (out of how many in New York City) were interviewed.

Also, I want to know what their objective going into the project was because if it was “What it’s really like to be Puerto Rican in New York City” then I want to know what part of that experience they wanted to show. Were they trying to show a different side from what the media portrays? Did they have an idea of what kind of Puerto Ricans they wanted to interview? Because frankly, they are simply adding to the racist notions found within America’s society. Was it difficult for them to find an individual that deviated from stereotypes or was it just more convenient for them?

Honestly, I am offended by MTV’s attempt and when I Google the episode I am glad to see that I am not the only one who feels this way. Sadly, it is amongst individuals of Hispanic descent, rather than a whole group of people who were educated and shown that this particular episode is not real life. I cannot help but believe that there is a sort of racial ignorance at the core of this episode.

Other Outraged Viewers:

MTV: Chane Title of Nuyorican True Life

Latina Magazine MTV Outrage

MTV Discussion Thread

Petition:

Nuyoricans Against MTV True Life

My Life Soundtrack

While listening to Nelly Furtado, a thought popped into my mind that went along the lines of it being one of those songs that pretty much sums up my life at the moment. I feel like favorite movies, favorite foods, fears, and goals can say an awful lot about the personality of a person. Here is my soundtrack that either rightfully or wrongfully depicts me.

1. In The Heights – In The Heights Soundtrack
2. I Belong to Me – Jessica Simpson
3. Like A Bird – Nelly Furtado
4. Dirty Little Secret – The All-American Rejects
5. Boston – Augustana
6. Insatiable – Darren Hayes
7. Scream – Michael Jackson & Janet Jackson
8. Grace Kelly – Mika
9. When I Grow Up – The Pussycat Dolls
10. Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park
11. My Prerogative – Britney Spears
12. The Animal Song – Savage Garden
13. How To Save A Life – The Fray
14. Girls Just Want To Have Fun – Cyndi Lauper
15. Crush – Mandy Moore
16. Let’s Get Loud – Jennifer Lopez
17. Reflection – Christina Aguilera
18. Survivor – Destiny’s Child
19. A Quièn Le Importa? – Thalia (Translation: Who cares?)
20. In The Waiting Line – Zero 7

Maybe 10 years from now my soundtrack will look differently.

SAVE VASSAR COLLEGE CREATIVE WRITING

Writers are in a constant process of trying to get their work read, published, and simply seen by the outside world. In not allowing for the talent its self to manifest, the writer loses their initial bases and cannot even get to the stage where they try to get their work seen. Currently, on Vassar College this fundamental is being threatened. Below, is a letter written by Lindsey Danis, a Vassar Alum of the class of  ‘02, which gives an overview of the issue:

Dear Members of the Vassar Community:

Many of you have heard about Vassar’s decision to cut creative writing classes and faculty, due to budget cuts that stem from the stock market’s effects on Vassar’s endowment. We understand that the poor economy necessitates making difficult decisions. We believe that the proposed cuts would constitute a drastic re-envisioning of the role of creative writing in the Vassar curriculum.

As an English major, I took many composition courses. Most of these courses were open to students regardless of major, and were filled with students who were excited, inquisitive and eager to learn about the craft of writing. It saddens me beyond belief to think that these opportunities might not be available to future generations of Vassar students. I chose Vassar because of its commitment to the arts, writing in particular, and no doubt many of you did the same.

The students and alumnae of Vassar are fighting back to preserve Vassar’s focus on the arts and writing. I am involved with the SAVE VCCW Committee. To distribute information, gather support and reach as wide a network as possible, we have created a blog:

http://savecreativewriting.wordpress.com

Even if this issue does not directly affect you, I hope that you will pass on this information. This is not only about creative writing at Vassar College,  instead this is about the foundation of creative writing and the way in which it is viewed as a non-substantial program amongst the other acadamic departments.

25 Random Things

“Once you’ve been tagged,

you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you.

At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged.

You have to tag the person who tagged you.

If I tagged you, it’s because I want to know more about you.”

I am sure all within the bubble that is MySpace and Facebook has encountered these nicely strung together words. It is that chain letter, that everyone after reading decides they too will add their 25 tokens onto the pile. I am amazed day after day, the way in which you can learn so much about people through 25 simple statements. And the funny thing is, that there are more than 25 things to find out about a person. Things that they have not noticed about themselves and thus cannot tell you, yet will come through in their actions; things that they cannot pull themselves to tell you; things that have been long forgotten; things that you, for whatever reason, will not find out.

What exactly compels people to let others in on their own 25 random things?

Static

I have a tendency to think about the past– to wonder when exactly friendships began to fall apart, when my family began to change, the decisions I have made… how I got to the place in which I am now. It is good to reflect, but I think that I need to begin to let things go. Not all at once but little by little I have to begin to think about the present and the future, rather than being stuck in the past because I am. As much as I tell myself that I am not, I am stuck in the past. I keep thinking about the friendships that I have lost, that I miss, that I now see weren’t meant to last forever but instead were meant to help me grow up. They have helped to emphasize ideals, like my decision to never try drugs or to smoke, as well as helped me come to terms with the fact that some things just cannot be rushed. I have always been so impatient with life that when I was 8 all I wanted was to be 14, and when I was 14 all I wanted was to be 18. I never really gave importance to what it meant to be 14, or put real weight to my decisions and years after the fact I should not be reverting back. Yesterday is written, today is being typed and tomorrow is a blank page. I’ll just have to keep that in mind.