I really need to stop with the late-night/early-morning posts. I have a topic, but they always just end up a pile of word vomit with me trying desperately to stay on track. It's a little depressing.
Note to Self: Don't do it!
— KGratiaM
Friday, March 20, 2015
Family Trees
To say that I have an addiction to Ancestry.com would be a understatement. Not only have I quite literally raided my relatives genealogy stashes out from under them for years, I just spent five and a half hours straight sifting through tree matches--and enjoying myself.
It isn't until I looked up and realized the clock read 3:29am that I understand why I suddenly feel so sore. Both the dog and the cat are passed out next to me, and all the humans have long-since gone to bed. And here I am with my book off to the side of my computer, ready for a read when I finally shut this thing off and go upstairs.
— KGratiaM
==
Below is the cover and the Goodreads link to the book I'm so obsessed with. I've never really been a Nicholas Sparks fan, but for whatever reason, I got sucked into this one and I cannot put it down. Britt Robertson is starring in the movie that is coming out...I think, April?
It isn't until I looked up and realized the clock read 3:29am that I understand why I suddenly feel so sore. Both the dog and the cat are passed out next to me, and all the humans have long-since gone to bed. And here I am with my book off to the side of my computer, ready for a read when I finally shut this thing off and go upstairs.
(And the saddest part about all of this is I still will read once I get upstairs--even though it's now...3:50am.)
(It's a good book! Leave me alone.)
Not to say I didn't get plenty of great information out of merging the trees on Ancestry.com. I've always kind of liked the trees better than flicking through the other files. That said, I love the old script--back when kindergarteners were still taught how to write and not just how to type. (Whatever makes me think I'll be able to stand the lack of pens when I'm a teacher, I don't even know. Now makes me want to bang my head against a wall.)
And, yes, okay. The trees are kind of cheating, as they're already somewhat put together. But I think my favorite part is when I suddenly end up with an extra sibling I didn't know about.
Especially when there's already thirteen others I did know about.
But, yes. I do enjoy myself. Something about the organizing of information keeps my brain in a mellow mood. It's kind of my personal therapy, which I guess is why I never minded being switched for filing duty during high school. Or why I spend entire nights catching up on my Tumblr tags and relabeling everything I've already posted. (Which, of course, I will be putting off another day because it's 4:10am and I'm exhausted.)
And then my eyes flick to my book. Will I read or won't I? That is the question.
And I'm pretty sure we all know the answer to that...
==
Below is the cover and the Goodreads link to the book I'm so obsessed with. I've never really been a Nicholas Sparks fan, but for whatever reason, I got sucked into this one and I cannot put it down. Britt Robertson is starring in the movie that is coming out...I think, April?
Monday, March 9, 2015
Severe Lack of Hope Here
Last night was literally eleven straight hours of distraction.
I deliberately turned down seeing a theatre production with friends—which I'm glad I did, since it turned out to be three hours, instead of the assumed one—because I have homework to do.
And yet, here I am, a day later, without having done a word of it.
But that's not what I'm here to talk about. What I oh-so loudly realized last night is that I have no hope left in this world. I knew I had no faith. But I apparently have no hope either. (And apparently, they're two different things.)
I realized this when I came across this book recommendation on my Goodreads account:
And my initial response was: "If it has romance, sure. I can't do the non-hope stuff. I need a some hope to read anything."
Then I realized what I'd said and started out on a rampage.
So I have no hope. Great.
I guess I should've known that. It really doesn't surprise me. I've listened to enough stupid ideas from people around me to know the world is doomed. We are in a downward spiral of broken dreams.
I've copied comedian Kathleen Madigan's bit on hope—or rather, lack-there-of:
My sister was on board with Obama, but she's ten years younger than me. She's much less cynical. "Oh, Kathleen, he's all about hope and change, and change and hope, and hope and change. Whole thing's going to change. Don't you have any hope left, for Christ's sake?"
I'm like, "Let me check for a minute—Uh, no." No. I gave up hope for this country officially when we took the pillows out of coach on American Airlines, okay? If we can no longer afford a five-cent foam piece of shit so my neck doesn't break on a six-hour flight, we suck. It is over. Just go get your Rosetta Stone and learn a little Chinese before they get here....
No, I don't have any hope. I didn't even have that much hope when I was young, though. I'm always amazed at how young people get—they're all into stuff. Like, literally, Lou and I worked in Canada somewhere, and I'm walked down the street in Vancouver, Canada, and in one hand, I had a lit cigarette, and in the other hand, I had a hotdog. And this twenty-something girl leaps out of an alley with a Green Peace folder, and she goes, "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I talk to you about the future?"
You better hurry up. I could have a stroke by the time you're done talking. I'm like, "Honey, I clearly don't give a shit about myself. What are the odds I care about what's in your folder?"
I would like to have hope. Even my religion, I'm out of hope. I was raised Catholic. Really. This Pope, he's ignoring everything. My mom still has hope about it. "Well, maybe this whole scandal will make things change for the better."
"Well, if there's one thing the Catholic church is not hip on, Mom, it would be change. The last Pope, before he died, made a special trip to Russia to apologize to the Greek Orthodox church for things we did in the year 1204. 1204! That's the file they're on, Mom."
Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for aiming to change for the better and I'll encourage it all the way to the moon and back, but I am completely out of hope about it. I have absolutely no faith that this world will even get itself in order enough not to faceplant at the end of its days. No hope. None.
And before anyone goes off about how Kathleen Madigan is only talking about the U.S. while I'm saying the entire planet, here's another portion from that same album:
I went to Iraq and Afghanistan to entertain the troops....We went to Afghanistan first. Wow. What a shithole. That did not even meet my low expectations. I was like, "What a dump!"
And when people are like, "How much money will it take to fix Afghanistan?", I'm like, I don't know. I saw it. From what I saw, run this question through your mind:
"How much money would it cost to fix the moon?"
Now, whatever number just shot through your head, you are correct.
At the risk of starting a rampage from any military person out there, I think war is stupid. The fact that people on this Earth cannot work out their issues without running someone through with metal balls—We have a problem. Just imagine how much better this world would be if people just got over their shit?
And I'm not going to lie. I've had problems with people that I didn't handle in the best of ways, but I also didn't fill them full with lead. I'm not saying I have a better alternative, but I believe with all my heart and soul that there is a better way to deal with something than blowing them sky-high.
Talk it out. Forget about it and move on. I really don't care which. Just pick one and get over it. I am so sick about hearing the count of deaths per day. I don't want to know that. Ignorance is bliss. I'd like to stay that way. Thank you.
And the fact that I have to say that just to avoid the topic of war is disgusting. We call this peace? What about this is peaceful? Someone explain that to me, because I really don't get it.
So, no. I have no hope. If two people can't solve a problem without heavy artillery, it is over!
— KGratiaM
==
All italic chunks are material copied directly from Kathleen Madigan's album, "Gone Madigan". None of it is mine—trust me, I'm not that funny—and I take no claim to it. If you aren't aware of her shows, look her up. She is hilarious!
I deliberately turned down seeing a theatre production with friends—which I'm glad I did, since it turned out to be three hours, instead of the assumed one—because I have homework to do.
And yet, here I am, a day later, without having done a word of it.
But that's not what I'm here to talk about. What I oh-so loudly realized last night is that I have no hope left in this world. I knew I had no faith. But I apparently have no hope either. (And apparently, they're two different things.)
I realized this when I came across this book recommendation on my Goodreads account:
And my initial response was: "If it has romance, sure. I can't do the non-hope stuff. I need a some hope to read anything."
Then I realized what I'd said and started out on a rampage.
So I have no hope. Great.
I guess I should've known that. It really doesn't surprise me. I've listened to enough stupid ideas from people around me to know the world is doomed. We are in a downward spiral of broken dreams.
I've copied comedian Kathleen Madigan's bit on hope—or rather, lack-there-of:
My sister was on board with Obama, but she's ten years younger than me. She's much less cynical. "Oh, Kathleen, he's all about hope and change, and change and hope, and hope and change. Whole thing's going to change. Don't you have any hope left, for Christ's sake?"
I'm like, "Let me check for a minute—Uh, no." No. I gave up hope for this country officially when we took the pillows out of coach on American Airlines, okay? If we can no longer afford a five-cent foam piece of shit so my neck doesn't break on a six-hour flight, we suck. It is over. Just go get your Rosetta Stone and learn a little Chinese before they get here....
No, I don't have any hope. I didn't even have that much hope when I was young, though. I'm always amazed at how young people get—they're all into stuff. Like, literally, Lou and I worked in Canada somewhere, and I'm walked down the street in Vancouver, Canada, and in one hand, I had a lit cigarette, and in the other hand, I had a hotdog. And this twenty-something girl leaps out of an alley with a Green Peace folder, and she goes, "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I talk to you about the future?"
You better hurry up. I could have a stroke by the time you're done talking. I'm like, "Honey, I clearly don't give a shit about myself. What are the odds I care about what's in your folder?"
I would like to have hope. Even my religion, I'm out of hope. I was raised Catholic. Really. This Pope, he's ignoring everything. My mom still has hope about it. "Well, maybe this whole scandal will make things change for the better."
"Well, if there's one thing the Catholic church is not hip on, Mom, it would be change. The last Pope, before he died, made a special trip to Russia to apologize to the Greek Orthodox church for things we did in the year 1204. 1204! That's the file they're on, Mom."
So, needless to say, that's a hilarious version of it, but there you go. Obama and Green Peace folders and Catholicism aside, Kathleen Madigan and I are both completely out of hope for this world. It's depressing. And a wee bit pathetic, but I really don't.
Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for aiming to change for the better and I'll encourage it all the way to the moon and back, but I am completely out of hope about it. I have absolutely no faith that this world will even get itself in order enough not to faceplant at the end of its days. No hope. None.
And before anyone goes off about how Kathleen Madigan is only talking about the U.S. while I'm saying the entire planet, here's another portion from that same album:
I went to Iraq and Afghanistan to entertain the troops....We went to Afghanistan first. Wow. What a shithole. That did not even meet my low expectations. I was like, "What a dump!"
And when people are like, "How much money will it take to fix Afghanistan?", I'm like, I don't know. I saw it. From what I saw, run this question through your mind:
"How much money would it cost to fix the moon?"
Now, whatever number just shot through your head, you are correct.
At the risk of starting a rampage from any military person out there, I think war is stupid. The fact that people on this Earth cannot work out their issues without running someone through with metal balls—We have a problem. Just imagine how much better this world would be if people just got over their shit?
And I'm not going to lie. I've had problems with people that I didn't handle in the best of ways, but I also didn't fill them full with lead. I'm not saying I have a better alternative, but I believe with all my heart and soul that there is a better way to deal with something than blowing them sky-high.
Talk it out. Forget about it and move on. I really don't care which. Just pick one and get over it. I am so sick about hearing the count of deaths per day. I don't want to know that. Ignorance is bliss. I'd like to stay that way. Thank you.
And the fact that I have to say that just to avoid the topic of war is disgusting. We call this peace? What about this is peaceful? Someone explain that to me, because I really don't get it.
So, no. I have no hope. If two people can't solve a problem without heavy artillery, it is over!
— KGratiaM
==
All italic chunks are material copied directly from Kathleen Madigan's album, "Gone Madigan". None of it is mine—trust me, I'm not that funny—and I take no claim to it. If you aren't aware of her shows, look her up. She is hilarious!
Sunday, March 8, 2015
DCP Application
I'm a late-bloomer. In every sense of the word. I'm nineteen years old, and I just finished applying to my first real job. Real in the sense that I applied, not just that I'd be getting paid—(and babysitting totally counts!)
I applied to the Disney College Program.
For those of you who don't know, the Disney company has a program that allows current and just-graduated college students to come to one of their parks and work/take classes (either Disney World, Florida or Disneyland, California).
I applied to the Disney College Program.
For those of you who don't know, the Disney company has a program that allows current and just-graduated college students to come to one of their parks and work/take classes (either Disney World, Florida or Disneyland, California).
(So it's probably safe to say I'm a little obsessed right now.)
I never thought something as basic as applying for a job could be so exhausting. I'm so nervous. I mean, yes, it's Disney, but #freaking out over here.
Anyway, I am excited. I might have gone on a little rampage the other night when I found out there was an audition for Character Roles (humans and critters alike) and started looking up Peter Pan YouTube videos.
(Y'all don't even understand. I am obsessed with Peter Pan.)
(But I'll save that rant for another day.)
But my point was I've been through auditions. I'm an actress. Auditions are just part of the package. I actually like auditions, but maybe I'm just weird like that. I don't know what is so different between applying somewhere and auditioning, but these are two completely different feelings.
(And I just love how I get nervous afterwards. That isn't helpful anymore; it's just obnoxious.)
So aside from that, I'm actually nervous over a piece of paper. I don't get it.
And I really don't know what I was attempting to say over this post. Maybe it was just a rant. But now I'm done before I really just start talking about nothing.
— KGratiaM
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Weasels
I find myself fighting back and forth for a decision over my education. I spent five months abroad in London last year, and I'd never felt more at home than sitting on a random stair along the road of the city. I've always been a country girl. I grew up around horsefarms with Colorado-blood running through my veins. I've never been a city girl. I've hated the city from the moment I first stepped into it. But London was bright and open; nothing like the dark heaviness that weighs on Atlanta, or New York. It's weird for me to fit in a city. But I did. My hate of tennis shoes sparked me to wear some delicate boot and my refusal to go on any guided tours—I hardly looked like a tourist. London accepted me with the wide arms of history and clean tube stations.
But now, living in a place I once called home—well, it doesn't feel like Home anymore. There are niches I sink into every now and then, like striking the set earlier today for the theatre or when I ride in the equestrian club. I find myself looking for reasons to justify me moving back permanently—because for some reason, I feel the need to have a reason. Like "Because I want to" isn't enough anymore. Maybe it wasn't ever. But I don't fit in my old home—and that's probably the slimiest sensation one could imagine. It makes me feel gross, and wrong.
I guess I just really don't belong here anymore...
http://www.courses.vcu.edu/ENG200-lad/dillard.htm
For whatever reason, this short story that I had to read for class helped me. I thought I'd link it here for anyone else who needs a new point of view.
— KGratiaM
But now, living in a place I once called home—well, it doesn't feel like Home anymore. There are niches I sink into every now and then, like striking the set earlier today for the theatre or when I ride in the equestrian club. I find myself looking for reasons to justify me moving back permanently—because for some reason, I feel the need to have a reason. Like "Because I want to" isn't enough anymore. Maybe it wasn't ever. But I don't fit in my old home—and that's probably the slimiest sensation one could imagine. It makes me feel gross, and wrong.
I guess I just really don't belong here anymore...
http://www.courses.vcu.edu/ENG200-lad/dillard.htm
For whatever reason, this short story that I had to read for class helped me. I thought I'd link it here for anyone else who needs a new point of view.
— KGratiaM
Friday, February 13, 2015
Yes, "Fifty Shades of Grey" is Abusive
THIS IS A POST ABOUT THE “FIFTY SHADES OF GREY” MOVIE. IF YOU ARE NOT
COMFORTABLE WITH THIS TOPIC AND IT'S EXPLICIT HONESTY, DO NOT READ.
Ye have been warned…
BLOGGER'S NOTE: This is a response to the review done by thegirlwhowaitedfordean. If you wish to read that first, go for it. (Link is at the bottom of the post.)
Before I start, let me make something clear: Everyone is entitled to their opinions and I am by no means aiming to change anyone's; I'm just setting out my own views on the subject. And also a disclaimer: As a non-sexually active nineteen-year-old girl, I can only speak through what I've been taught, heard from friends, seen in films, and read in books.
Going into this movie without a true understanding of what BDSM is or what the storyline encompasses is a set up for a shock. I knew what it was about—having done formal research and in the process of reading the book—and a couple things still caught me off-guard. Disregarding the sex for a moment, yes. This is an abusive relationship. Yes, it is harmful, and no, it is not considered "right".
All that said, I have to argue that to some extent, all relationships are manipulative and controlling. Who can say they've never said anything to make another do something—even if it's just to make a partner feel guilty and apologize? Or as a kid: to threaten to tell a grown-up to get someone else to give a toy back? Everyone's done that at some point. I've done that. Multiple times. I don't necessarily like that I've done so afterwards, but it's happened all the same.
I think that's just human nature. We are self-sufficient. How we get there is different, and to different degrees, but we all put ourselves first. We ask things of another to satisfy ourselves. Sometimes we manipulate others into touching us a certain way by moving our bodies accordingly. We read off each other's body language and strive to please, to understand.
Now, do me a favor and reread that last paragraph with sex taken out of the equation.
See what I mean?
Disregarding the sexism infused with this topic, I need to clarify something before I go any further. The term "Abusive Relationship" applies to all types, not just physical. I deliberately have not been calling this relationship "emotionally abusive" because people need to understand that "abusive" covers all of it. And for the sake of this argument, I am accepting that the "physical abuse" in this story is an accepted part of BDSM—and I'm not touching that. Everyone has their kinks; go forth.
So, yes, Christian Grey is abusive. But so is Anastasia.
Christian's is more obvious:
"Christian meets Anna. He is immediately obsessed with her....He says that she must dress in clothes that he chooses. She must go to a doctor that he chooses, and take the contraceptive that he chooses. She must eat what he chooses. She’s not allowed to drink [in] excess. He tells her that it is her job to please him, and that if she doesn’t keep him happy to his exact specifications, it’s over....He dictates when they see each other, how affectionate they are with each other and who Anna is allowed to talk to and spend time with" (thegirlwhowaitedfordean).
All the basic makings of an abusive boyfriend. Okay, fine.
But Ana did it too. On more than one occasion she pushed him out of his comfort zone. Christian said straight from the get-go: "I don't do romance." And yet, somehow, the entirety of the movie is a romance between Christian and Ana. That is not due to Christian dominating Ana. That is him chasing her. (At the risk of causing an up-rise due to misunderstanding) Who is making him chase her? Her.
Ana's hardly doing it on purpose. Every girl in the world has had or will have some guy she's wary of hit on her. It's an unfortunate fact of life. And as much as it sickens me to think this way, that man isn't chasing her for the hell of it. There's always going to be something that appealed to him, something she may or may not have any control over.
Same thing with Ana and Christian. In both the books and the movie, we are introduced to Anastasia as an awkward girl who isn't great at keeping her head down. In an interview she was never supposed to have anything to do with, she surprises Grey on more than one occasion. That appeals to him. He says it. "I'm used to getting my way." But clearly, Ana doesn't give it to him—And yet he's still here.
She's manipulating him into wooing her, chasing her. She thinks he's hot—we all do. But she's not chasing him. In fact, other than the graduation ceremony, she walks out thinking she'd never see him again.
And then he's back.
And again.
And again.
And suddenly, they're together. Christian calls her his "girlfriend". He doesn't do girlfriends. We know that. He doesn't do romance. And yet, here he is. Calling her his girlfriend, taking photos with her, meeting her family, worrying about her well-being.
Ana is just as abusively-controlling as Christian is. She's just much more passive about it.
And the true beauty about this film is the whole BDSM portion is all a reflection of what is happening between them out of the bedroom. Christian is introducing Ana to the sexual world and Ana is showing Christian what it means to love. He says, "You're the one who's changing me." Ana may not see it, but we do. He is changing. He even tries to be good, by pushing her away. (I saw that, and I was like, "Yeah, sorry Christian. You're screwed. You already care about her.")
But he keeps coming back. "I am incapable of leaving you alone."
Congratulations, Anastasia. You have him emotionally tethered to you. The fact that he is so upset by all of this just proves my point. Ana is confused and Christian is scared.
But all this said, I still think opening yourself up to anyone, to any degree, is allowing yourself to be manipulated into changing. You may change because you want to, but you never would have changed at all if you hadn't met them.
— KGratiaM
==
This is a response to the review done by thegirlwhowaitedfordean.tumblr.com at the following link. Italicized quotes were copied directly from their post and are not my ideas. Other quotes, unless otherwise specified as mine, are taken from the movie. This is strictly my opinion.
http://www.mamamia.com.au/rogue/fifty-shades-of-grey-review-rosie-waterland/
Introductions
Hi, y'all. Since I'm no good at just writing without knowing what I'm saying, I'll just get straight to it:
I have a lot of opinions and I love to write, so I figured why not start a blog? :) Then of course I was posed with the question: How do I start?
Well, I sat on that for a couple days, until tonight when I saw "Fifty Shades of Grey". (Great movie, by the way. If you're not too shy about that kind of thing, go see it. It's excellent.) Needless to say, as soon as I get back, I made a beeline for my copy of the Fifty Shades of Grey book that I'm still reading--oops, >-<U , #myb--only to get distracted by a post on Tumblr before I can pick it up.
I tried to read, but with the post brewing in my mind, I just couldn't let it go. So I wrote out some obnoxiously long reply that by the end of, I decided it wasn't okay to post it like that.
So I'm posting it here as my first blog post. \(^o^)/
I do apologize for those of you who are not "Fifty Shades of Grey" fans or who are just not comfortable with it at all. If me talking about it is going to upset you, don't read it. I promise it won't hurt my feelings. And I also promise that this blog won't usually be like this. I just had a big opinion about it and had to put it somewhere.
Anyway, thank you for welcoming this obnoxiously-opinionated girl aboard. I promise I'll post something real very soon. :)
-- KGratiaM
I have a lot of opinions and I love to write, so I figured why not start a blog? :) Then of course I was posed with the question: How do I start?
Well, I sat on that for a couple days, until tonight when I saw "Fifty Shades of Grey". (Great movie, by the way. If you're not too shy about that kind of thing, go see it. It's excellent.) Needless to say, as soon as I get back, I made a beeline for my copy of the Fifty Shades of Grey book that I'm still reading--oops, >-<U , #myb--only to get distracted by a post on Tumblr before I can pick it up.
I tried to read, but with the post brewing in my mind, I just couldn't let it go. So I wrote out some obnoxiously long reply that by the end of, I decided it wasn't okay to post it like that.
So I'm posting it here as my first blog post. \(^o^)/
I do apologize for those of you who are not "Fifty Shades of Grey" fans or who are just not comfortable with it at all. If me talking about it is going to upset you, don't read it. I promise it won't hurt my feelings. And I also promise that this blog won't usually be like this. I just had a big opinion about it and had to put it somewhere.
Anyway, thank you for welcoming this obnoxiously-opinionated girl aboard. I promise I'll post something real very soon. :)
-- KGratiaM
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