The Road to Liberation

Kate Clifford Larson is like my inspiration right now. One of my teachers wanted us to go see her speak about Harriet Tubman tonight. I was getting tired to I really didn't want to but I ended up going anyways- I think it's worth a grade. I'm glad I did because it was pretty interesting. I applaud Harriet Tubman, naturally. But just as inspirational is Larson.

She worked in a bank (I think? Sorry, I was so fascinated by her gypsy/hippie-like appearance and also this girl who was sporting a school-girl outfit... SORRY.) until she decided that she was not happy and went back to school. She ended up studying African-American studies and Women Studies. Completely fascinated by Harriet Tubman, Larson went to find some biographies about Tubman. She didn't find much. Many were written for kids; others were incredibly old. Eventually Larson started a quest to learn more about the activist. She uncovered many, many records. Larson took her information and wrote a book: Bound for the Promised Land: Harriet Tubman, Portrait of an American Hero. It was the first non-juvenile Tubman biography to be published in 60 years.

Larson strikes me as so absolutely incredible. She found something she really liked and actually made a contribution to the subject. If I could achieve 1/3 of what she has I'll be one happy camper.

A Dream Deferred... does it explode?

I decided to watch A Raisin in the Sun. I'm not totally ignorant of the poem, play or original movie. Just thought I'd throw it out there.

But the story always makes me sad. To dream, and dream and dream... and have nothing but dreams. It isn't very fulfilling.

Now I wouldn't say that I was completely without... I always manage to get by. But there's always something I desperately wish I had. Of course there is. Isn't there always something we don't have? But for me it's not a new car, or a house or clothes. Nothing material. I just want to do what makes me happy. And sometimes- most of the time- I can't even get that. It's mearly a dream. I cry about it hoping that my tears will influence fate, God... someone, something. And sometimes I realize that crying about it isn't going to anything. Sometimes I stop... sometimes I don't.

But you know, I think I'm gonna start trying to reach my dreams. I mean, that's what I'm SUPPOSED to do. And if it doesn't go well- maybe I'm meant to lend my abilities else where. I can wait to see where the cards fall or I can step in and make the cards fall- it's not cheating when it's life. So, guess what, I AM going to take control, while I still can.

*Insert Squeal* I'm so excited! Let's hope this lasts to tomorrow.

We Are Wizards, don't believe meh?!

I no longer have anything substantial to add to this blog so I'm just gonna type whatever's on the tip of my fingers. Hanging out on the edge today is... drum roll, please: Harry Potter.

Yes me friends, I was born for Harry Potter. In 7th grade the staircase to my loft-bedroom was plastered with picture, upon bloody picture of Harry Potter. Anything that had to do with the friggin series. Lions, snakes, pre-pubescent pictures of Daniel effin Radcliffe. Yes my readers, I was a bona fied freak obsessor. Oh do I have some tales about it. But I won't bore you with them tonight.

Instead, I'm going to pimp a new movie: We Are Wizards. The HP fandom has grown to such an absurd level that it needs to be documented. Are you aware that there is a musical genre known as "Wizard Rock"? It is true. I believe we have a band called Harry and the Potters to thank for that. Since their start, fans of this magical boy have gone on to create Wizardtronica (Ministry of Magic), and WizardCore (As I Lay Dobby). They're are probably more genres but there are also more than 300 damn wizard rock bands so I don't feel like looking through all of them. But I really like Harry and the Potters and Ministry of Magic. Just sayin.

Anyways. Back to We Are Wizards. It documents the phenomenon of Harry Potter and the many, many musicians, writers, artists, film makers and other obsessive people that have contributed to spreading the HP love.Inlcuding The Hungarian Horntails who I forgot to mention in the previous paragraph and I do not feel like scrolling up. They are two brothers that are part-time elementary students, part-time wizard rockers. It's cute. The film is going to South By Southwest this year.

Check out the trailer. You know you're curious.

Show Your True Colors

Perhaps I'm stumbling upon what I want to after all. Much sooner than I thought.

Lawrence King, a 15 year old Californian student, was shot in the head at school last week for no other reason except that he was gay. His killer was his 14 year old classmate.

It shocks me that people are still so stupid. I have a couple memorials and etc. in my room to remind me that people are still killed for mundane reasons. But if I had a memorial for everyone who's ever been murdered in a hate crime, I'm sure my walls wouldn't even be visible. I don't understand why people just can't get over themselves. Maybe your neighbor or classmate or teacher or whatever is different from you. So what? Learn to deal with it. I'm not super religious but I believe the bible says "Love thy neighbor"? You don't have to be religious to do that. It's so simple yet people can't grasp that idea. This world....

Since, maybe, age 9 I've called myself a gay and equal rights activist. Truth be told, I've never really done anything activist-y. My attempt to hang posters one MLK Day went terribly wrong. I kind of gave up after that. People just don't GET IT.

But I still want to make a difference. I'm going to try to. One of the Lawrence King memorial websites wants to team up with Build-a-Bear to make bears for children dealing with harrasment at school. The group also wants to try and get some proceeds to be given to GLSEN (the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network). I definitely want to help.

It's time to take the tape off my mouth and take a stand.

If you're interested in joining the cause go here.

Inspire Me

Today, I sadly dragged my feet into work. The hilight of my day was sliding the shelves in the back, carrying bins of bears on my hip like an old jungle women and learning to use to register. YAY.

Other than that, I pretty much watched my manager look sexy- I mean.... work. Does this count as sexual harrasment?! On a side note that's not sexual harrasment, I think there's some shit going down and no one wants to tell me. I'm starting to think I got the job from hell. SHIT.

Moving on.

You may notice I keep deleting my blogs. My writing has to really mean something- or half a something. The ex blogs were garbage. I keep trying to find a point for this blog but there is none. Or maybe my point is that there is no point. Put on some salt and suck on that.

But, while I was doing a whole lot of pointless nothing at work, I realized my dreams. XD So cliche. So stupid. But I DID. Or re-realized. I want to be... (wait for it) a PLAYWRIGHT. Yes. Of course this is a dream I will never achieve. (I'm a downer.) I will die stuffing bears and I'm going to say "You know kids, when I was a younger, I wanted to win a Tony. And you know what? I never did and now I'm a bitter old bat."

God. I'll be the best old person ever.

Of course, some one said to never say never. I think it was a mouse in... a mouse cartoon. Or was it a cat?! Who knows. But I take all my advice from Disney movies. I've got a bunch of old plays sitting under my bed. I think it's time to dust off the pen and paper and get to writing. And scribbling out. And then typing. And then abandoment. Sudden inspiration... more writing....

Wish me luck!

Take a Deep Breath.

This would be my third (fourth?) blog. I still post on all of them, some more than others. Yet, I can never seem to do this right. As if there's a right way to blog....

I am forever lost and spinning. It's time I've found some direction- I think I'm aiming for the 2nd star to the right. Hell yes I just referenced Peter Pan- what a classic. Perhaps my amusement in children stories make you wary? It should- I'm as immature as you would think. I'm 18, I work at Build a Bear and I live with my mommy. I bite my nails and I wear rainbow socks. Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends is the greatest cartoon ever. I also have a plastic Spiderman ring that I think is the bomb.

Perhaps if I lived in Japan, my woman-childness would be cute. In America, it's pretty much just annoying and borderline psychological disorder.

So, 2008 is my year for change. I'm going to find a purpose in life (other than stuffing bears). Maybe I'll find something I'm good at. Maybe I'll take my first step into the world and not fall flat on my face. Oh man. Could you imagine? This is like trying to merge Reality TV whores back into the real world (the actual world, mind you, not this MTV shit that I'm strangely addicted to). Have people ever died from being reintroduced to society? Or in my case, just introduced. I'm such a recluse- it's genetics.

Well, I'm gonna take my first plunge. Take a deep breath- here I come. (Any lifeguards on duty?)