I love Christmas movies, I really do, but the thing I cannot stand about them is that they aren't real. Especially Hallmark Christmas movies. Hallmark movies alone are just awful, corny and completely unrealistic , but Hallmark Christmas movies lack what something that my Christmas's are never with out, dysfunction and booze. Honestly I don't remember a single Christmas, or any Holiday for that matter, where there wasn't booze involved at least marginally. In fact I had my first taste of alcohol on Christmas.
I was about eleven years old and had a terrible habit of drinking out of other peoples cups. It was Christmas morning and therefor dad was sitting on the computer, trying to figure out how to install some kind of computer game that we had gotten for Christmas. He had a tall glass of "orange juice" on the tale next to him and I decided it would be okay to take a big gulp of it with out asking him if I could have a sip.After the "juice" made it's way down my throat, I made a disgusted face and looked at my dad who was not paying a lick of attention to me. "Is that orange juice?" I asked after the damage was already done. "Not just orange juice, no." my dad replied. That was the Christmas I learned to always ask my dad what was in his cup before drinking out of it, especially on Christmas morning when him and my mom drank mimosas.
A more recent example of how real people celebrate Christmas was last Christmas when my twenty-one year old brother threw a two year old style hissy fit. He had worked the late shift the night before and was still asleep when the rest of us were awake. We told him we would be opening gifts at noon and we would come and wake him up then. But when mom went upstairs to wake him up, he yelled at her and refused to get up. So, we decided to open up the gifts we had given each other and wait for him to open up his gifts.When he came down stairs and found out we had already opened some gifts he got upset and started yelling at us. Ya see, these are the kind of Christmas events that belong on television. not sap stories about Christmas miracles and mean people turning into saints because of it. I want Christmas movies about the things that Christmas is built on, angry siblings and drunk parents.
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Thin privilege?
Before you read this I want it to be known that these are just my own personal experiences as a thin person and I do not know if other people have had these experiences but if you have I would love to hear about it in the comments.
Recently I came across a few articles on one of my favorite web sites, Everyday Feminism, about Thin Privilege. One of these contained a list of examples of thin privilege and can be found by clicking on the link below. I'm not denying that thin privilege exists, there are a lot of things that I do not have to deal with because I am thin, but I just wanted to address a few things on this list from the perspective of a thin person (5'1 and 116 pounds). http://everydayfeminism.com/2012/11/20-examples-of-thin-privilege/
The very first thing on this list, "You're not assumed unhealthy just because of your size," kind of bothered me because it is simply not true. A few years ago I had just began getting into the weight range of 105 to 110 (before returning to my current weight) and almost everyone had something to say about it. Of the occasional "you look good" was accepted, but there was a lot of people who thought that I either had an eating disorder or was otherwise unhealthy. People at church were constantly going up to my mom and asking her about me to make sure I was okay. One woman suggested that I might be anemic (yes I realize that that has virtually nothing to do with one's weight, she apprently did not know that) for the sole fact that had lost some weight and was now smaller than the average person. The truth was that I was not unhealthy. I felt unhealthy because people kept making comments about my size and suggesting to my mother that I might have an eating disorder, but the reason I had lost weight was because I had was a lot happier than I was the year before. I was not stress eating as much, and had started exercising. In reality I was not unhealthy at all, in fact it was the opposite, I had gotten healthier. But since I'm a little person everyone assumed that there was something wrong with me.
The other thing on this list that made me tilt my head and squint my eyes was the ninth thing on the list, "When you go to the doctor they don't expect diabetes as the first problem." It is true that I can't sympathize with that. And that is really frustrating especially since it is coming from a professional who shouldn't make assumptions about their patience health based on their appearance. But the connotation that thin people also don't experience at least a mildly level of assumptions made by their doctors is untrue. After my drastic weight loss I was so convinced by everyone's comments that it was indeed unhealthy and I did have something wrong with me that I went to the doctor about it. My mother didn't think there was anything wrong with me and I had to beg her to take me since I was a minor at the time. After my doctor talked to me for a few minutes he brought my mother out of the room and told he was concerned I had an eating disorder. That was it. After talking to a thin, teenage girl who had experience a significant weight change he assumed it was an eating disorder. The worst part of it was that my mother who ate dinner with me virtually every night and saw me eat, believed him and monitored my meal intake for about the next week after that. I have never had an eating disorder, I understand that a lot thin people do have eating disorders but people, especially should not assume that I have an eating disorder because then I feel like unhealthy and unattractive for simply being small.
Once again I'm not saying thin privilege does not exist, because it does. I'm also not trying to compare my problems as a small person to someone else's problems as big person and I'm certainly not trying to say my problems are worse or more important. Simply that making assumptions or comments about somebody because of their body type whether or not you think you're just showing concern, is usually offensive, whether that person is smaller than what you consider average or bigger than what you consider average.
Recently I came across a few articles on one of my favorite web sites, Everyday Feminism, about Thin Privilege. One of these contained a list of examples of thin privilege and can be found by clicking on the link below. I'm not denying that thin privilege exists, there are a lot of things that I do not have to deal with because I am thin, but I just wanted to address a few things on this list from the perspective of a thin person (5'1 and 116 pounds). http://everydayfeminism.com/2012/11/20-examples-of-thin-privilege/
The very first thing on this list, "You're not assumed unhealthy just because of your size," kind of bothered me because it is simply not true. A few years ago I had just began getting into the weight range of 105 to 110 (before returning to my current weight) and almost everyone had something to say about it. Of the occasional "you look good" was accepted, but there was a lot of people who thought that I either had an eating disorder or was otherwise unhealthy. People at church were constantly going up to my mom and asking her about me to make sure I was okay. One woman suggested that I might be anemic (yes I realize that that has virtually nothing to do with one's weight, she apprently did not know that) for the sole fact that had lost some weight and was now smaller than the average person. The truth was that I was not unhealthy. I felt unhealthy because people kept making comments about my size and suggesting to my mother that I might have an eating disorder, but the reason I had lost weight was because I had was a lot happier than I was the year before. I was not stress eating as much, and had started exercising. In reality I was not unhealthy at all, in fact it was the opposite, I had gotten healthier. But since I'm a little person everyone assumed that there was something wrong with me.
The other thing on this list that made me tilt my head and squint my eyes was the ninth thing on the list, "When you go to the doctor they don't expect diabetes as the first problem." It is true that I can't sympathize with that. And that is really frustrating especially since it is coming from a professional who shouldn't make assumptions about their patience health based on their appearance. But the connotation that thin people also don't experience at least a mildly level of assumptions made by their doctors is untrue. After my drastic weight loss I was so convinced by everyone's comments that it was indeed unhealthy and I did have something wrong with me that I went to the doctor about it. My mother didn't think there was anything wrong with me and I had to beg her to take me since I was a minor at the time. After my doctor talked to me for a few minutes he brought my mother out of the room and told he was concerned I had an eating disorder. That was it. After talking to a thin, teenage girl who had experience a significant weight change he assumed it was an eating disorder. The worst part of it was that my mother who ate dinner with me virtually every night and saw me eat, believed him and monitored my meal intake for about the next week after that. I have never had an eating disorder, I understand that a lot thin people do have eating disorders but people, especially should not assume that I have an eating disorder because then I feel like unhealthy and unattractive for simply being small.
Once again I'm not saying thin privilege does not exist, because it does. I'm also not trying to compare my problems as a small person to someone else's problems as big person and I'm certainly not trying to say my problems are worse or more important. Simply that making assumptions or comments about somebody because of their body type whether or not you think you're just showing concern, is usually offensive, whether that person is smaller than what you consider average or bigger than what you consider average.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
The meaning of the word "Brother"
When I am asked how
many siblings I have I am obligated to reply with “only one” but that’s only
counting my one biological brother. In reality I have never had only one
brother. I have had many different brothers. Many of them have come into my
life and left, and eventually new brothers come into my life. But being
consistently in someone’s life is not a big part of being someone’s brother. A
brother is a playmate, a protector, a pest, a bully, and a parent.
My brother, James, always had many friends over and I
eventually adopted them as my secondary
brothers. When I was in middle school we would all play tag in the icy tundra of
my back yard in the winter. In the summer my parents would bring us to the
river and we would play Marco-Polo and push each other off of the large rocks
into the cool water. There were times when they made me so mad I thought I was
going to kill them and I would be lying if I said they were some of Woodstock’s
finest. In truth, they were thugs, even James, but when any one would spread
rumors or call them names like “wangsters” I would defend them, because they
were my brothers. This group of boys who I grew up with did not stay around for
long. By the time I started high school most of the group had parted from one
another. A few them kind of fell off the face of the Earth, one became a dad,
and recently I heard that one was arrested. But these boys who I grew up with
were, at one point, my brothers.
When I started high school there was a new group of boys
always at the house and soon they became my older brothers- my very protective
older brothers. I still hold to the fact that James had spies in the school;
after all he was a senior when I was a freshman and could not possibly be
everywhere I was to prevent upperclassmen (or any boy) from hitting on me. If
was walking down the hall with a guy friend and standing in the cafeteria
talking to a boy it was not uncommon for one of James’s friends ( some of them
I barely knew) to walk up them , look them intimidatingly in the eye and say
“hey you better not mess with her, she’s James sister.”
At the beginning of the second semester of my freshman
year I decided I was going to try to date a senior. This was not a good idea.
After I told my mom about this senior boy I met and was going to date, she
freaked out a bit. But her reaction was calm compared to the boy’s reaction.
Since my dad was out of town for the weekend my brother’s best friend decided
it was up to him to call my dad and let him know, “your daughter thinks she’s
dating a senior”. My father’s response to this phone call was “take care of
it.” As I argued with this brother of mine, another brother walked in the door
and said, without any of us informing him of what was going, “Megan, stop
talking to that boy.” If I had any doubt about how many brothers I really had
up until that point, that weekend answered my question, because every boy who walked
into the house that weekend had something to say about me trying to date a
senior. These were boys who had literally no blood relation to me what so ever,
but they were my brothers. No matter what your blood lines say, if you are ever
asked whether or not you have a brother, think about whether or not you have or
had someone who would yell at you persistently for dating a senior when you are
a freshman. If you do, then the answer is yes, you do indeed have a brother.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
I don't want to grow up.
It has occurred to me that there are possibly some high school teachers out there (especially in Shenandoah County ) that became high school teachers not to "mold young minds" but to continuously relive their glory days. There is absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting grow up. I completely understand the thought mentality. Like those high school teachers I also don't want to grow up, but it's not that I'm hung up over high school. I'm actually quite ready for those days to be over. My desire to not want to grow up lies in the days of Disney movies and Barbie dolls. Elementary school and younger is where my glory days are. Think about it; you were too cute for your parents to get too mad at, your biggest problems were that you were out of cookies and your Land Before Time video tape was skipping, and it was acceptable to wear a plastic tiara in public. I'm sorry but screw reliving high school. I want to be five again.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Meeting The Third Parent
A lot of girls fear the first time they have to bring a significant other home to their parents. In my case my parents weren't a huge worry. My protective older brother, on the other hand, was. Right before my second date with my first serious boyfriend my brother decides that he wanted to meet this boy because he didn't understand how he knew every other person in town except for this boy.
Before he actually met my date my brother's best friend, Kyle, and I sat in the living room as my brother sat in nothing but his boxers and discussed what he was going to do when my date came in to meet him. His most disturbing and entertaining idea was to put socks on his hands and use them as puppets. He even demonstrated to Kyle and I by using his sock puppets to say "Hi Philip! How are you!" At that I gave him two conditions to meeting Philip: 1. He was not to use the sock puppets. and 2. He had to wear pants. He agreed to the first condition on account to not wanting my date to think he was mentally retarded. In response to the second condition he draped a blanket over his legs to make it look like he was wearing pants rather than just picking up his pants that were laying in the middle of the floor in front of him and actually putting them on his body. After my terribly demanding conditions were established Kyle and I went outside to wait for my doomed date to arrive.
Kyle sat down in a wooden chair on the front porch, took a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into the arm of the chair. As I was yelling at him to put it away my date stepped onto the porch. I looked at him nervously and said, "Hi, this is my brother's friend, Kyle. Kyle, this is Philip."
Kyle shook his and said hi, then sat back down and said, "You can go on in now, Megan's brother is very anxious to meet you." I instantly thought the sentence, wait am I suddenly in a scene of The Godfather? But, Unfortunately, I was not in a scene of The Godfather, this was actually my life.
I walked Philip into the house and lead him down the hall way, into the living room, where James sat, pantsless in the corner arm chair to "assert himself as the dominate male". When we walked in James was pretending to sleep (possibly another technique to assert himself as the man of the house?).
"James, James, wake up." I said, admittedly holding back laughter.
"W-w-what?" He stuttered as he pretended to wake up from his fake slumber.
"This is Philip. Philip, This is my brother, James."
James looked over the boy who was taking out his sister and simply said, "Oh. Okay." He looked across the room at the remote control he planted. "Philip would you mind getting that remote for me?" Philip responded with "Oh sure" and picked up the remote and gave it to him. Test passed.
We left the house and returned to the front porch with Kyle. At this point we were almost successfully out of the house with no mention that James was still sitting beneath his blanket with no pants on. Until we were about to leave and Kyle said "Hey, is your brother still not wearing pants?"
I looked at Philip, "Um I'm not sure."
"He was wearing a blanket..." Philip answered.
Kyle and I both shook our heads and said "No. He's not wearing pants." When we got to the car, Philip asked me "So why wasn't your brother wearing pants?" I had no real response when he asked. And now the only real reason I could come up with for James not wearing pants and just generally acting the way he did is that his strategy for scaring away my boyfriends was to act as weird and socially unacceptable as possible.
Before he actually met my date my brother's best friend, Kyle, and I sat in the living room as my brother sat in nothing but his boxers and discussed what he was going to do when my date came in to meet him. His most disturbing and entertaining idea was to put socks on his hands and use them as puppets. He even demonstrated to Kyle and I by using his sock puppets to say "Hi Philip! How are you!" At that I gave him two conditions to meeting Philip: 1. He was not to use the sock puppets. and 2. He had to wear pants. He agreed to the first condition on account to not wanting my date to think he was mentally retarded. In response to the second condition he draped a blanket over his legs to make it look like he was wearing pants rather than just picking up his pants that were laying in the middle of the floor in front of him and actually putting them on his body. After my terribly demanding conditions were established Kyle and I went outside to wait for my doomed date to arrive.
Kyle sat down in a wooden chair on the front porch, took a knife from his pocket and stabbed it into the arm of the chair. As I was yelling at him to put it away my date stepped onto the porch. I looked at him nervously and said, "Hi, this is my brother's friend, Kyle. Kyle, this is Philip."
Kyle shook his and said hi, then sat back down and said, "You can go on in now, Megan's brother is very anxious to meet you." I instantly thought the sentence, wait am I suddenly in a scene of The Godfather? But, Unfortunately, I was not in a scene of The Godfather, this was actually my life.
I walked Philip into the house and lead him down the hall way, into the living room, where James sat, pantsless in the corner arm chair to "assert himself as the dominate male". When we walked in James was pretending to sleep (possibly another technique to assert himself as the man of the house?).
"James, James, wake up." I said, admittedly holding back laughter.
"W-w-what?" He stuttered as he pretended to wake up from his fake slumber.
"This is Philip. Philip, This is my brother, James."
James looked over the boy who was taking out his sister and simply said, "Oh. Okay." He looked across the room at the remote control he planted. "Philip would you mind getting that remote for me?" Philip responded with "Oh sure" and picked up the remote and gave it to him. Test passed.
We left the house and returned to the front porch with Kyle. At this point we were almost successfully out of the house with no mention that James was still sitting beneath his blanket with no pants on. Until we were about to leave and Kyle said "Hey, is your brother still not wearing pants?"
I looked at Philip, "Um I'm not sure."
"He was wearing a blanket..." Philip answered.
Kyle and I both shook our heads and said "No. He's not wearing pants." When we got to the car, Philip asked me "So why wasn't your brother wearing pants?" I had no real response when he asked. And now the only real reason I could come up with for James not wearing pants and just generally acting the way he did is that his strategy for scaring away my boyfriends was to act as weird and socially unacceptable as possible.
Monday, June 24, 2013
The Older Boy Situation
The other day I realized that I had never had a celebrity crush on any one who was not older than me. Even to this day the celebrities who I am attracted to are some where between ages thirty and fifty while I am only eighteen. In my defense celebrities that are close to my age consist of Justin Beiber and the boys from One Direction, and I'm sorry but I haven't been into the pretty boy thing since I was thirteen years old.
Now it would be one thing if my fondness for older men stayed with in the realms of impossibility, such as my crushes on Hugh Jackman and Channing Tatum. But this is not nor has it ever been the case. Even when it came to my actual relationships I have always gravitated towards older guys. When I was in kindergarten I distinctly recall "dating" a third grader who I rode the bus with. Yeah. It started that young. As I got older it only got worse. Though my boy friends never reached the ages of Hugh and Channing, they did not always stay with in the limits of legality either. On my eighteenth birthday I greatly celebrated that finally I was no longer jailbait.
Now I just want to point out right now that I am NOT one of those girls that goes out looking for older boys to date. I do not have "daddy issues" because that's just creepy. I also do not date older boys to rebel against my parents. Trust me I could think of a lot more rebellious things to do to cause my parents to have a heart attack if I really wanted to. I simply attract older guys and then in turn end up falling for them. I realized that it may have been turning into a habit about a year ago when I told one of my close friends about the first time I made out with my now boyfriend (now age 21, then age 20) and her reaction was to crack up laughing, look me in the eyes and say at an unreasonably loud sound decibel, "Are you shitting me? Another one? You made out with another twenty year old? You gotta be shitting me! She made out with another twenty year old!!" At that point I realized that possibly it was getting a little bit ridiculous, but what was I going to do? Limit myself to only the boys my friends, family, and society deemed acceptable? Absolutely not! I would not ever limit myself just because other's thought I was wrong, not with my dating choices or with anything else.
When I first began dating my current boyfriend I was sixteen, soon to turn seventeen, and he was twenty. More than handful of people (i.e. my parents) showed disapproval at the age difference but I am happier than I have ever been with any guy and am in the most serious relationship I have ever been in. With that being said I am in no way promoting forty year old men "falling in love" with sixteen year old girls, I am simply saying that my older guy habit seems to working well for me.
Now it would be one thing if my fondness for older men stayed with in the realms of impossibility, such as my crushes on Hugh Jackman and Channing Tatum. But this is not nor has it ever been the case. Even when it came to my actual relationships I have always gravitated towards older guys. When I was in kindergarten I distinctly recall "dating" a third grader who I rode the bus with. Yeah. It started that young. As I got older it only got worse. Though my boy friends never reached the ages of Hugh and Channing, they did not always stay with in the limits of legality either. On my eighteenth birthday I greatly celebrated that finally I was no longer jailbait.
Now I just want to point out right now that I am NOT one of those girls that goes out looking for older boys to date. I do not have "daddy issues" because that's just creepy. I also do not date older boys to rebel against my parents. Trust me I could think of a lot more rebellious things to do to cause my parents to have a heart attack if I really wanted to. I simply attract older guys and then in turn end up falling for them. I realized that it may have been turning into a habit about a year ago when I told one of my close friends about the first time I made out with my now boyfriend (now age 21, then age 20) and her reaction was to crack up laughing, look me in the eyes and say at an unreasonably loud sound decibel, "Are you shitting me? Another one? You made out with another twenty year old? You gotta be shitting me! She made out with another twenty year old!!" At that point I realized that possibly it was getting a little bit ridiculous, but what was I going to do? Limit myself to only the boys my friends, family, and society deemed acceptable? Absolutely not! I would not ever limit myself just because other's thought I was wrong, not with my dating choices or with anything else.
When I first began dating my current boyfriend I was sixteen, soon to turn seventeen, and he was twenty. More than handful of people (i.e. my parents) showed disapproval at the age difference but I am happier than I have ever been with any guy and am in the most serious relationship I have ever been in. With that being said I am in no way promoting forty year old men "falling in love" with sixteen year old girls, I am simply saying that my older guy habit seems to working well for me.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
The good child
My parents refer to me as their "good child". I suppose in all honesty I would indeed be described as a good girl. Though I often contemplate whether I'm their good child or if I'm just really sneaky. The more likely reason why I am their good child is much less about me and the argument between whether I'm "good" or just sneaky and more about their previous child. The fact is that the expectations of behavior were set rather low by my older brother. Though he is a very good person he never exactly wore a halo or received special Good Kid lunch passes in middle school (which yes did exist, and yes I did receive). It was actually quite easy to reach Good Child of the family status, I got good grades in school and never presented the devious capability or desire to force my Spanish teacher into early retirement.
But when it came to being the good child, especially after I started high school. I would have preferred to be my brother. I would have preferred to have been the oldest so that I could I have no one to be compared to. I could be absolutely irresponsible and carefree and make my parents prematurely grey and they would have no idea what was hitting them because they would know nothing about teenagers. But as the second child I was completely weighed down with expectations and my parents had been around the block and knew exactly how to make me not behave like my brother. And so as the second child I was forced to become "The Good Child", or at least to be very very sneaky.
But when it came to being the good child, especially after I started high school. I would have preferred to be my brother. I would have preferred to have been the oldest so that I could I have no one to be compared to. I could be absolutely irresponsible and carefree and make my parents prematurely grey and they would have no idea what was hitting them because they would know nothing about teenagers. But as the second child I was completely weighed down with expectations and my parents had been around the block and knew exactly how to make me not behave like my brother. And so as the second child I was forced to become "The Good Child", or at least to be very very sneaky.
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