It's not ok.

In March? (I think it was March?) I wrote a note about things I needed to say so I didn't implode. Well this is part two. I'm not going to implode today, because I got to talk to Sam and Emily. But I need to write. I haven't written a good poem in weeks. Some ramblage has got to come out. Sometimes meaningful conversations are more important than studying or sleep.

Cru. I didn't want to go, cause I'm just not feeling bouncy and bubbly and happy tonight, and I didn't want to pretend I was. But being the only cru this month, I felt sort of obligated to go. So I went. And in the middle of the social justice talk were the statistics of how many women get sexually assaulted and the reminder that we aren't treated like we should be. (I'm not going to re-hash it, we can talk about it in person someday if you want.)

Anytime those stats come into conversation, or anything to do with the disgustingness of how we are treated, I get angry. Furious.

It's not ok.

Where are the men who are stepping up?

How the heck have I made it this far mostly un-scarred?

I am furious at the American society.

It goes so far beyond the media. Yeah, the media plays a big part. But sometimes I think it is all we focus on. Friends, I don't watch much tv. I don't listen to a lot of objectifying music. I don't go a lot of places. And I feel almost swallowed by it.

It's not ok.

This is not ok.

This is not acceptable.

We are God's girls.

Treat us as such.

It goes both ways for sure. It's rather sticky, not so clear. Men aren't treated right either. I get that. And the people who would read this are doing just fine in their treatment of people, I am fairly sure.

But I have to let it out. I have to say it. It eats us.

Dear American Society,

I am angry, and I don't know what to do about it. I'm just one girl. It's hard for me to fight your lies for all the others of us. I'm worried they won't listen to me. We all tell each other we're beautiful till we're blue in the face and no one really believes it. But I'll do it anyway, because I can't sit around and watch myself and everyone else get trampled over by your ridiculous values and standards and LIES.

ahem.

Sincerely,

me.

Sunset

Tonight I went to the Union for supper. I took my beef rice bowl up to the third floor for a great view of a most incredible sunset. I couldn't help myself- I wrote some words about it in the back of my planner. And this is what I have formed from it.

(10/3, Heavenly, GOLD.)

Somehow He loves me more than the sunset. Somehow the sunset is for our enjoyment. SO beautiful. I want to be those clouds and have the sun glowing upon me. But somehow, He loves me- imperfect, selfish, snarky me, so much more than that delicious display of glory. I am part of that creation.

This view makes me want to giggle, to shout, to weep. I have no words worthy of this.

It reminds me how rich we are, to be so LOVED. It reminds me to marvel at the other parts of creation even more. It reminds me that every evening I should watch the sun set, that (if I could drag myself from sleep) I would watch it rise every morning.

pink, purple, gold, orange, blue, rolling clouds.

and all there is to say is WOAH.

After I left, I felt so much more awake than I have all day.

Somehow He loves us more!

I'd scream too.

I'd scream too if I were in that sorority. We should all scream out for the things/ones we love. How fun that would be!

I had a fun weekend. laughing and rainbows and a walmart trip and a wedding.

Walked with J tonight, so lovely. The moon coming and going behind the clouds, a bunny!, breezy chillyness. It was just nice.

And now there are murmurs of talking down the hall, which tonight, is nice.

and now I'm listening to this song.

loves!

Five Minute Friday: Friends

Woot! It's Five Minute Friday! Today is when we write for five minutes flat. Don't edit, and don't worry how it reads.

Friends.

and go!

"Just friends" they say. Just friends what? Friendship is plenty strong in my book. You shouldn't have to "just friends" anyone.

I have the best friends. I'm sure a lot of people say that. But it's true. Even the ones I don't talk to all that much, I know they'd drop everything if I needed them. I hope I'd do the same.

There are so many quotes about friendship, and while they're all lovely, none of them capture it just right. Friendship is love, right? I think sometimes friendship is harder than "romantic" love. Not that I would know.

I don't really know what to say about these more concrete topic. But the first things that came to mind were that I really love my friends, and that it drives me nuts when people say they're "just friends" like it's a bad thing. I'd be honored to be "just friends" with you, my dear. That's plenty strong enough for me.

honored.

Friends. I love yous!

sigh

today is hard. i miss it.

21 months and then some.

joy

joy.

I have great joy. It's bubbling, and it's peaceful. A soft, peaceful bubbling.

I am struggling with the hair thing. I do not regret cutting it, and I'm so excited! But I do struggle with wishing it was long. 21 months. more or less. I can't stop thinking about when it will be long enough to braid, long enough to touch my back in a ponytail... I knew it would be hard. I am glad for it.

I feel so much more like me. I know it's not about the feelings, but it feels so good. I am forced to be bold, it's vulnerability at its clearest. I'm already uncomfortable, so I feel as though I might as well talk to people. Already there are wonderful things coming out of this.

and technically, my hair has already started growing. :)

Talk

This isn't finished.

(About Women's Weekend 2011)

We talk about boys (of course), but not in the giggly way. We share our hurts. Our struggles. Share commonalities that neither of us feel good enough for the honorable ones. We wish we could tell them, anonymously. I am fragile. Treat me this way. I respect this, and this, and this. Tell your brothers.

We talk about women, how we stare each other down walking along the sidewalk. How we always compare.

We talk about poop, puke, and period blood. And in what order do they disgust us. We talk a lot about poop.

We drink cocoa and coffee and tea in small tan cups. constantly. We feed each other funny stories and sad ones,

and laugh and ache.

Some of us cry.

Some of us run off to the bathroom for makeshift tissues.

...to be continued...