Monthly Archives: September 2014
Why yes, I am, No One. And here’s why.
- I am a feminist because I can’t walk to class without some dude checking out my butt.
- I am a feminist because J.K. Rowling didn’t use her first name as her author name because her publisher told her less people would buy her book if they knew she was a woman.
- I am a feminist because women only make up 5% of the Fortune 500 CEOs
- I am a feminist because when I don’t wear any makeup people think I’m sick and when I wear more makeup than usual I’ve been told I look like a slut.
- I am a feminist because when a girl has sex she’s a slut but when a guy has sex no one loses their shit.
- I am a feminist because my ex-boyfriend made me feel like shit when I didn’t want to sleep with him.
- I am a feminist because so many men like him feel entitled to sex because they said nice things and bought a girl dinner.
- I am a feminist because the 2014 UCSB massacre happened because a man didn’t get any and felt like he had to prove he was the “Alpha Male.”
- I am a feminist because my queer friend gets funny looks for just wearing nail polish.
- I am a feminist because in high school I got dresscoded nine times because either my bra strap was showing or my skirt was more than 3 inches above my knee.
- I am a feminist because girls are taught that we have to protect boys from being distracted by our bodies.
- I am a feminist because boys are taught that being distracted by a girl’s body is a real and accepted thing.
- I am a feminist because the FREEDOM to marry anyone is still illegal in 15 states.
- I am a feminist because my family still think the terms “drag” and “trans*” mean the same thing.
- I am a feminist because I DO NOT WANT CHILDREN and that want is so often dismissed as just not knowing what I want from the world yet.
- I am a feminist because my friend’s mom humiliated her daughter on Facebook for having a bra strap showing. (I’m not even joking)
- I am a feminist because when I say I am demisexual, people tell me I just haven’t met the right guy.
- I am a feminist because Taylor Swift can’t go or do anything without someone cracking a joke about her love life.
- I am a feminist because the outrage over Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda video fails to acknowledge the fact that Two Chainz’s Birthday Song objectifies and shows just as much booty as Nicki’s.
- I am a feminist because the gender binary is outdated and not meant for everyone.
- I am a feminist because the patriarchy claims that I hate men because of a single word that I use to define myself and my beliefs.
- I am a feminist because there are only twenty women in Congress today.
- I am a feminist because being able to make a choice about your body and what’s going on inside it is illegal in 30 states.
- I am a feminist because I acknowledge the fact everyone should be able to do WHATEVER OR WHOEVER THE FUCK THEY WANT.
Feeling a tad rageful so… sorry about that.
So this weekend, I gambled a lot.
I also lost a lot of money.
But, I mean, it was worth it right? I mean, I got to spend two days in a row with my three best friends.
I made some hilarious memories with these three. Whether we were just hanging out in the hotel room or stumbling around the casino, we could not stop laughing and loving each other. These wonderful ladies have helped me grow into the woman I am.
M taught me what dedication to your passion really means. She also taught me that being quiet doesn’t mean that you don’t have anything to say, but sometimes you’re just thinking and choosing your words carefully. M taught me that quiet people can be really freaking weird too.
C taught me how to be feminine, but still kick butt. She is probably my best friend ever because she just continually inspires me to keep growing. She taught me that wearing makeup is fun and it doesn’t make you a whore like I had been unfortunately taught. C taught me not to take crap from anyone and to demand respect from everyone. C taught me that everyone seriously fucks up their life at least twice daily.
E taught me how to laugh, like how to have a hearty laugh at everything that life throws at me. E taught me how to be strong even when you feel like crumbling into nothing. E taught me that being that one person that someone can confind in is the most meaningful thing in the world. E told me how to take a proper Instagram photo.
These beautiful ladies are sisters, No One. We don’t get to see each other all that often nor do we get to talk to each other a lot. But that doesn’t mean anything with these girls, except that we have a lot of catching up to do cuz let’s face it we ALL want to hear about what happened between C and that new boy she likes or M and her new babysitting job and E and her never ending job hunt. Because we care about each other. They care about each other. They care about me. And I am so lucky.
Now the only version of Hope that you guys, my readers, see is the cool, articulate version of Hope.
That is not always me.
I am actually quite famous amongst my friends for having awkward encounters especially with complete strangers.
In order to illustrate to you more eloquently what I’m trying to say, I’ll provide you with a brief glimpse in my most recent, awkward encounter.
So I’m sitting in my HIST101 class this morning.
I’m fucking tired and hot cuz the walk to class was long and the heat was already intense for 10:30 in the morning.
I’m just trying to sit on tumblr inconspicuously in the back of the classroom with the other students who are ten thousand percent done with class.
Then in the middle of the lecture, my neighbor, C, was spinning his highlight and it fell out of his hand and on to the ground near me.
He looked down and muttered, “Oh great,” then looked up at me almost expectantly.
I just awkwardly give a half chuckle and stare down at the highlighter until he quietly gets up from his seat and picks it up.
MIND YOU, HIS FUCKING HIGHLIGHTER IS RIGHT NEXT TO ME. IT WOULD HAVE TAKEN 0.2 EFFORT TO PICK IT UP, BUT I DIDN’T.
I just suck at life, okay?
I’ve done fucked up.
“I don’t know why ya got me locked up in here, bub. I did nothing wrong.”
“Well, Mrs. Lakowski-“
“Call me, Nikki.”
“Well, Nikki,” the court appointed lawyer shuffled the papers about in front of him, “I um, can’t say I agree with you. You killed your husband, Nikki. Please tell me how that is ‘nothing wrong’.”
“Oh, Mr. Johnson,” she laughed, the cuffs around her wrist clacking together as she wove her hand to dismiss his comment, “Can I call ya Steve?”
“Well, Steve, ya just aren’t seeing the full picture! Yasee, what I did wasn’t killing nobody. I’d prefer to call it, my one, vigilante act for my life, I swear on my mama’s life, Steve. I wasn’t taking someone great from this world. Why would I do that? No no, I was taking matters into my own hands.”
“A vigilante act, Nikki? The law isn’t something that can just be played with, even if you promise to never break it again. But you do admit you killed your husband, Mickey Lakowski, Nikki? That’s a very serious statement.”
“Of course I admit to it. Steve dawlin’, why wouldn’t I admit to something like that? I ain’t stupid. Mickey was the worst thing that ever happened to me. My only regret was not killing the bastard sooner.”
“Mrs. Lakow- I mean,” he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, “Nikki, do you want to go a bit more in depth about how exactly your husband was ‘the worst thing that ever happened to’ you? It could help your case and get you a shorter sentence.”
“Ya want the lie or the truth, love? I’ve got the lie pretty well memorized,” she chuckled half-heartedly at her own joke.
“Preferably the truth, Nikki. That’s what the judge will want to hear.”
“Figures. Well, Stevie, to tell ya the truth my marriage had been absolute shit for years. Which is saying something cuz we’d only been married for about ten. He hated Junior and baby Anna. Heaven forbid Anna made a single noise at night. He’d wake up like he was waitin for it, Stevie, then he’d just yell at her like them drill sergeants do on ‘Two Weeks in Hell’. He did the same thing with Junior, but I guess Anna doesn’t learn as fast as Junior did cuz Junior stopped cryin’ after a few months of being home from the hospital.
“But I kept goin with it, Stevie! After all Mickey was my husband! I had to love him. He knew better than me, right?” She paused waiting for an answer from the lawyer, who said nothing. “So one night, I was cookin dinner. Mickey was still at work. Junior was watching the TV and Anna was in her high chair, playin round with her Cheerios.
“The baked ziti is in the oven, Junior and Anna are both occupied, so I think to myself, ‘Oh what the hell? I’m going to read my goddamn magazine!’ So I go and sit down in the dinin room. All innocent right, Stevie? Well, bang! Mickey throws open the front door and comes storming in, yelling bout some awful assistant he got at work. Y’know he was the manager of Lakowski and Sons Construction? The biggest construction company in all of Newark, it was. Anyway, guess he had some shitty day at his shitty job where he does shitty work for his shitty salary. Then he finds me readin’ my magazine. Knowin’ Mickey, I set it down and get up to give him a lil sugar. But no no no! He starts bitchin’ bout how he smells something burnin’. Now I get up and smell the same thing so I go to check on the ziti and guess what, Steve? It’s a lil burnt. Oh no, whoopdy fucking doo.
“But knowin my ‘lovin’ husband,” her fingers made air quotes as she spoke, “I apologize real quick. But is that good enough for Mickey? No. So he hits me. A great right hook to my eye.
“I’m losing it now. Mickey has hit me before, but it wasn’t over fuckin’ ziti! So we’re yellin’ at each other and lil’ Anna is cryin’ and Junior’s locked himself in his room cuz he’s seen this same shit before. Mickey’s goin’ crazy, callin’ me names, and throwin’ shit. Now this stuff was normal when he gets mad. Lord knows how many damn IKEA lamps we’ve broken. But Anna is cryin’ in her chair and Mickey turns around and smacks my baby girl across her face.”
She stopped. Looking at her lawyer, whose face had turned white as a sheet.
“Nobody hits my baby when she ain’t even doing nothin’ wrong. I mean- ha- Anna has been cryin’ since day one, but Mickey never hit her until now.
“Over some burnt baked ziti.
“So I hit him. I finally did it, Stevie. I hit Mickey so hard my knuckles hurt. And, damn, did it feel good to finally do that. I was giving him what he’d been giving me for years,” she cracked her still bruised knuckles.
“And I just kept goin’. I couldn’t stop. Before I knew it, he was on the kitchen tiles, nose bleedin’, eyes barely open. Stevie, I didn’t even know I was that strong! Now I’m standin’ over him and I’m yellin’ about how much I hate him and I’m thinkin’ he’s knocked out and so I just say that I want a divorce. I felt like it needed to be said y’know? But I didn’t really feel like I meant it.
“But that sure woke him up quick.
“He smacks my knee and I fall down. Goddamn that hurt, Stevie. He knew I have bad knees. But now we’re on each other’s level . Me on my knees and him trying to stand up. So I just push him! Push him hard away from me. I just want away from him. And you know what he does?” she stared into the lawyer’s eyes, daring him to answer. “He falls over and cracks his head on the corner of the oven.
“I wish he didn’t die like that.”
“I wish I could have killed him better.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell the judge that, Nikki.”
By Hope Fletcher xoxo
Tomorrow, I’m considered a legal adult in the state of California. I started writing this post at 11:37 pm Tuesday the 23rd.
I can’t believe I’m finally going to turn 18. I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but at the same time I’m not very excited. Sure, it’s a huge milestone or whatever but I don’t think much is going to change in my daily life.
Twenty minutes now.
I can vote.
I can smoke cigarettes.
If I move to Colorado, I can smoke marijuana.
I don’t have a state mandated curfew anymore.
I can get a tattoo.
I can pay taxes.
When the ad on TV says “Call if you’re eighteen years or older…,” I can call now.
But the way people treat me? The way I see myself?
That isn’t going to change much is it? Sure, I’m an adult, but my family and friends have seen me grow to this level of maturity. It didn’t just come about the second I turned 17, andi’m not going to “level up” in 17 minutes.
Oh shit, 17 minutes.
Now I’m feeling old.
What did I do at 16? Got my license. Got my first boyfriend. Was elected ASB president for the next year. 16 was a good year.
15 1/2 I got my permit to drive, yknow. I was on top of the game. Went to my first youth group at the Baptist church that I meant to for the remainder of high school. 15 was okay enough. It got me to where I am now.
Oh jeez. Fourteen wasn’t all that great. First wave of teenagerness came about. First suicidal thoughts at fourteen. I can deal with those now. Got my heart broken by a boy who turned out to be gay.
Bad friendships. So many unstable and mean mean friends. But I was Junior High ASB president at thirteen so go 13 year old me. I must have been doing something right. Right enough in any case.
I was just starting junior high when i turned 12. I was so loud. I wanted people to pay attention to me cuz no one else did at my previous school. It worked.
Was bullied. Went to sixth grade camp and found out what a lesbian was. Traveled a lot that summer. Said goodbye to a school I hated.
Just started aforementioned hated school. Made a few friends. Learned that some fish can fly if you wait long enough.
My love affair with Harry Potter started. Read all of the books faster than anyone thought possible for a nine year old. Got my heart broken by my best friend and the boy I liked because he simply didn’t like me back. I understood that.
My grandfather died. I went to his funeral and saw my grandma cry for the first time. His coffin was sealed shut. My dad cried too. I tried not to.
My other grandma passed away from lung cancer. I was sad cuz my mom was sad, but happy because Grandma wasn’t Grandma anymore. Cried in public for the first time in memory. My teacher comforted me then.
It’s hard to remember back that far. Grandma was diagnosed then.
I started kindergarten. I hated reading so I sat in the back and did math instead.
B and I had just met. Our sisters went to 1st grade together. He threw up blue Go-Gurt once and ruined the carpet. My mom couldn’t stop laughing at us. We ate Wienerschnitzel every Friday afternoon together
Preschool. I’ve been told I was the smartest kid in the class and the youngest. Guess that trend remained fairly constant through high school.
Goodbye, childhood and my faithful readers. I’m going on tumblr to help ring in my new year. Cheers.
For the most part, I am loving college.
But some fucking days, I wish I went to a trade school or something just so I wouldn’t have to deal with all of this irrevalent shit.
I like my teachers and I like my classes a lot, don’t get me wrong. But recently, my homework has just piled up. Which doesn’t make any sense! I am constantly doing homework. I spent all of yesterday doing homework, but that homework was just the shit due today!
Now after my classes and saying goodbye to my friend, M, because she leaves for college up in Oregon in a few days, I’ll have to spend all of my afternoon and night working and studying and reading.
I just feel like I could be doing so many other productive things. I mean, I haven’t even made a YouTube video in weeks! I really enjoy that shit too! I could blogging about more informative and wonderful things!
But instead, I’m reading about the Spanish colonization of the Americas WHICH IS A VERY DEPRESSING TOPIC BECAUSE A LOT OF PEOPLE DIED.
p.s. try something like this for fun today, No One. My attempt at this look is below the video 🙂
Today was my dear friend, K’s, birthday party. Now to begin with, K is one of the best people I have ever known.
She has always been a kind, loving, creative, and fun friend and the other day she turned 17. She and I have known each other since 6th grade, but we hadn’t been good friends until I was about 16 and she was 15.
She is my sister.
She knows so much about me and I know so much about her. We have a lot in common, but also not a lot which definitely keeps our friendship interesting. I basically love her a hella lot and wouldn’t be who I am without her. She’s helped me grow so much and I’d like to think that I’ve helped her grow too.
As for the rest of the party, it was so lovely to see everyone. The majority of the group was from my creative writing class that I took and helped lead in my junior and senior year of high school. It was almost like a reunion.
Seeing everyone was incredibly fun and brought back so many great memories. Tonight we even made some memories. At one point, half of the party sat on the trampoline and just asked each other questions. At another point, we all played Cards Against Humanity and realized that we are all hilariously awful people.
One of the artists in the group, H, gave K this as her birthday present-
And beautiful shit like this just makes me realize how blessed I was and am to have had such amazing and creative friends in high school. These people love and support me so much and I don’t know what I’d be without them.
I’m sorry for bragging, No One, it’s just the only thing on my mind.
Sorry bout that unexpected hiatus that I just took. I’d explain to the reasons why, but I doubt you want to read a lengthy explanation so instead I just jump right into my normal routine aka complaining about my beautiful life.
So I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you all on here, but I’m a musician. Mostly I sing, but I also play the piano and i’m learning the drums.
Music and I have had quite the lengthy and wonderful love affair. I grew up in a house where music was welcomed and adored, but as far as I know, I am the most musically inclined out of my immediate family because I actively pursue music and learning more about it and practicing it.
Now this is great. I love being so in tune (forgive the pun) with musical theory and being able to connect with music so much.
I feed off of this shit. I live to hear new albums, to sing new songs, to relisten my favorites, and so on. But recently I’ve encountered a huge problem.
Whenever I am listening to music, I feel the distracting sensation to dance.
I can dance pretty well as far as white people go. But dancing of any kind whilst walking to class with your headphones in is generally frowned upon.
But this is when I most want to dance! In the morning right after a few cups of coffee, walking and stepping to the beat that’s being pounded into my ear drums. I mean no one is looking at me! Until of course I start dancing like the little white girl I am.
It’s a terribly troubling predicament and I have to find a sufficient solution to cure my embarassing addiction.
I’m currently drowning in homework because I’m such a huge procrastinator. Expect a better post tomorrow, No One. Hope you had a good day, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
I am happy, No One. Without reason and at absurd moments, but I am. I’m sure now is one of those highs in my life or the calm before the storm sort of thing, but things are just really nice. I am very happy camper. I have so many great friends who love and care about me an awful lot. My family and I don’t want to tear each others’ heads off which is pretty fucking great. School is challenging, but in a good, healthy way. I’d be rather upset if college was boring and wasn’t stimulating. I’m busy enough that I can’t complain, but I still have plenty of me time that I do find absolutely necessary to my sanity. Some may call that “high maintenence,” but i call it taking care of me. To quote RuPaul, “If you don’t love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?” Whenever I feel like I’m too stressed out about friends or I feel like i’m not giving myself enough attention, that quote becomes my motherfucking mantra. I gotta love me, I gotta love me. Love is a given and shared thing. I have to give myself love and let others love me, so I can share and spread that same love.
But, Hope, how do you love yourself? What does “me time” entail?
Well, No One, I’ll make a nice list for you of my easy tips for keeping myself happy:
- Take care of your physical body- this can be as little as drinking a few glasses of water before bed or as dramatic as giving yourself a facial at the end of a long day (one of my personal favorites). Things like this can change how your body feels and how you feel about your body. No one is perfect and we can all do with a little improving and you totally should be proud of how you look, but don’t let your pride get in the way of progress and growing into an even more beautiful person.
- Take a break- this one is super hard for me to do, but give yourself like twenty minutes, an hour, maybe two hours! just completely unplugged. Don’t check your texts, don’t go any social media. You can listen to some music, but don’t be afraid to be alone with your thoughts. Your mind is a beautiful vortex of creativity and imagination! Explore it!
- Look in the mirror- now you can take this one literally or figuratively. Literally, look at yourself and I personally dare you to find three beautiful things about your appearance if that is what you are struggling with. Then focus on those things super hard so you can’t even think about the other things that you might not like so much. Figuratively, step back and reflect on your personality. Why are people drawn to you? What part of your personality makes you the proudest? How in the fuck did you get this awesome? Realize for the first time in your life that you, me, and everything around us is made up of old blown up stars from billions of years ago and realize how incredibly special and unique you are. Cuz you are. And that’s literally a scientific fact.
- Do things that make you happy- for me, this one is blogging. Or vlogging. Or drinking tea. Or curling up with my laptop and watching some Supernatural. Find out what makes you happy. When do you find yourself just smiling because you are content? Find that time or that place or that thing and do the living shit out of it.
- Don’t be afraid to let yourself feel- Have you ever known someone who was holding back tears and because you cared about them, all you wanted was for them to cry and to get it out in the open so you could talk? I known I’ve had this happen a couple times, and just like you want your friend to cry so they can be free, you have to let yourself be free. Cry if you have to, everyone cries and if someone has put the idea in your mind that crying is weak then they don’t know what they’re talking about. As someone who has cried in front of literally hundreds of people (see picture below of me at graduation), letting myself feel and be in the moment has always benefitted me. Let yourself feel those emotions and then comfort yourself. Yeah, you can do that shit too.
- Understand that this is the life you’ve been given- appreciate it. We only get one shot here on Earth and we shouldn’t be wasting it being upset over that shitty person from ENGL280. Look at your surroundings and I mean really LOOK. Find something beautiful in something that you pass by everyday. Now repeat.
These are kind of my remedies. i hope you find them helpful, No One. I love you and I just want you to be happy.