“Woman-beating rage-broccoli Chris Brown lip-synced his single “Turn Up The Music” (without being threatened by Sir Elton John) and danced roughly as well as a third-rate Chicago footwork dancer. He ended his performance by back-flipping off the stage, though sadly not off the earth. He returned to the stage one or two or maybe eighteen times.”—
No, I’m not… I’m not being facetious, I swear. Just because I don’t have a beau with whom to celebrate means that I have to lounge in my pajamas while testing out my Domino’s-Ben-and-Jerry’s combo recipe and watching JennaMarbles bitch about cinnamon on YouTube? No way, man. Replace viral videos with terrible chick flicks starring beautiful people, and I tried that already when I was 18 years old. But a lot has changed since then. JennaMarbles hadn’t been invented. I couldn’t yet buy wine for myself. And I was still living in the Midwest.
Now, I live in Cambridge, a place where all the expectations of growing up in Missouri are reversed. My peers don’t have significant others, and it certainly doesn’t bother them. They are too busy with perfecting the balance of hard work and enjoying their youth. Suddenly, I’m an a place where my perspective on life isn’t just recognized— it’s the norm! Good God, pinch me.
You see, growing in the rural Midwest, people were always suspicious non-obsession with boys. Why is finding Prince Charming not your priority, Kasia? Why are you so focused on school and books and writing? In short, what is wrong with you? Even my sister, who is still in high school, recently informed me in a Skype session that she had found the man for me to “marry.” When, in an irritated mood, I retorted in defense and asked her to stop with this unsolicited advice, she responded, “Well obviously you’re being defensive, so there is some truth to you being lonely.”
On the contrary, little sister. In my entire life, I’ve never been happier. My favorite activities are reading books on my own and dancing with friends, and I’ve done plenty of both this year. For the first time, too, my impulse to not give a rat’s ass about a boyfriend has been received as perfectly normal. Before, I felt lonely for two reasons. First, I was met with that ubiquitous response, “there must be something wrong with her.” Secondly, any “romantic” experience I’ve had so far—whether it be dating or hooking up with a guy in a club—has left me with that disgusting sinking feeling in my stomach…just pure, elemental self-loathing. If countless hours of pouring over poetry and novels (gross, English major) have taught me anything, a guy worth having should make you feel good about yourself.
But the fact is, I can finally accept myself as an independent young woman. I now understand that I was never solely lonely (I’ve got the most wonderful friends in the entire world). Instead, I was upset that I was unable to conform to expectations. Now, I know better; finally, finally, I’m becoming comfortable in my own skin. I’m happy for those who are in relationships (perhaps the most telling change of all), which is why I honestly do hope that you have a lovely Valentine’s Day. But if you’re single, this message is for you: don’t despair. If romance isn’t your priority, there’s nothing wrong with you. It only means that you’re driven in some other way, whether it be for your career, religion, family, or whatever else… and that’s just fine.
I will certainly be celebrating Valentine’s Day; I’m about to shower before cocktails and dancing with my friends. And since I’m on Tumblr, I might as well say it: my ship is Kasia x Self-Respect.
In the next week, this blog is about to undergo some MAJOR changes.
I won’t tell you everything, but I will say that the reasons are both professional and personal. So, here’s the short version: I haven’t been updating my study abroad blog for a while, which is largely because I thought I lost my mojo. I was having trouble creating my experiences into stories— but what I did notice was how much pleasure I got typing up (currently unpublished) movie reviews, social observations, and all-around pop culture commentary.
So instead of pining over my loss of ability to write a story, I’m going to publish on topics which I enjoy. I hope the more I write, the more I will be able to stretch myself creatively, and eventually, I’ll return to my roots: a good story.
In any case, this is all to say: expect some kinks on my blog for the next few days. Time for a MAKEOVER.
I plan on updating InTransit too, but probably not in the way you expect. So stay tuned, you Saucy-Faces!
(…forgive me. I just read Pamela for supervision, and my, my, that book is essentially just a collection of vulgar names to call those devious women-folk.)
I found this demo on YouTube, and it’s better than the entirety of Del Rey’s new album Born To Die. If someone asked me to define the word “sultry,” I’d play them this song. In fact, the song would probably already be playing in the background of my room; I’ve been listening to it on repeat for the past four days as I’ve trudged through reading Pamela for my latest supervision. Sexy, I know.
Just a quick message to high school kids who feel like complete and utter nobodies:
So you may not be Prom Queen. In fact, you’re pretty sure the one guy who asked you to prom hasn’t showered in weeks. You’re quiet, and you’re certain that the only time you’re the center of attention is when you’re embarrassing yourself by tripping in the hallway or suggesting a feminist interpretation of “The Lottery,” which your teacher promptly shuts down (okay, what this really means is that you’re ahead of the curve, and you should consider studying literature in college. English is so much more delightfully bizarre during your university years, I assure you). You live in Suburbia-Or-Nowhere, Generic-Midwestern-State, and hell, it looks like you ain’t goin’ anywhere. Your daddy certainly isn’t rich enough to get you the heck outta Dodge, nor are you pretty enough to cinch that modelling contract and move to the Big Apple (eh, one can dream). Sometimes you wish that you could just run away from everything with The Doctor himself.
Well, that’s not going to happen. So here’s what you do instead.
Be patient, and work hard. Excel at what you know, whether it be studying, creating art, or kicking butt at your favorite sport. This will help you earn a respectable scholarship for university, which is the starting point to change your life.
Sure, rewards aren’t reaped in a day, and in this culture of Wikipedia, it’s difficult to live without instant gratification. Remember, though: good things come to those who wait. Who knows? One day, you might find yourself studying at the University of Cambridge. On a brisk January day, a stranger might stop you on the street and tell you that you’re beautiful (even though you’ve felt nothing more than Plain Jane for your entire life). Later that night, you might learn that you’ll be spending your 21st birthday in Paris (Paris!). Trust me: you don’t need a funny man in a time-travelling blue box to find yourself in fantastic places. And your life still won’t be perfect, but by God, it’ll be good, and you’ve worked hard to deserve it.
Just so you know: this is all coming from a rather cynical young woman who rolls her eyes at just about any cliché inspirational message she’s read. But this is also my story, and I suppose it’s nice to prove myself wrong sometimes.