I love traveling. Experiencing new cultures, meeting new people, trying local cuisine and partying in clubs the word over just never seems to get old. What does get old, and very fast I might add, is the actual process of traveling. I'm blogging to you, my lovely blogees, from the window seat of a plane which has been stagnant on the tarmac now at Newark airport for over an hour. The captain has just informed the already restless crowd that it will be probably be another hour before we take off. This has been the cherry on the sundae of what can only be described as a hell of a day. Why is that we've come so far in technology in general but can't seem to find a civil way to travel?
Being stuck on a plane for an hour on the tarmac may no seem like much a reason to complain, after all weather seems to be the issue here and is understandably an uncontrollable aspect. However, after the ridiculousness I've been through today, I'm so frustrated at Continental Airlines as a whole I doubt I'll ever fly with them again. My two girlfriends and I were set to leave our beloved Toronto on a flight to Cleveland, where we would connect onto another flight to our ultimate destination: Las Vegas for Memorial Day weekend. But, our flight to Cleveland never took off (they said technical error, I say a whole ton of bullshit. Planes are your commodity -- their hydraulic pumps and navigational lights should be working before you pack them with passengers.) and so we missed our connecting flight to Vegas. Stranded at Pearson for eight hours (and functioning on two hours of sleep to boot) we finally flew to Newark with a new itinerary of spending the night there and leaving for Vegas in the morning. Ideal? No. But my girls and I relished the fact that we could hit up the New York Topshop, relax in hotel rooms and maybe even stop by a club or two. On the advice of a Continental Airlines employee who I will henceforth refer to as "that wretched little man", we managed to book a flight to Vegas today and so canceled our hotel rooms and next day flight. And now, here I sit on the tarmac, infuriated and sleep deprived, desperately hoping our captain pages the crew to prepare for take-off.
I wish I could say this was first such horrid flying experience I've had, but sadly there have been several occasions where I've been stranded, delayed and frustrated beyond repair. I have to point out that this seems to be a factor in Canadian and American airlines only! I've flown to Asia quite extensively and have never, ever, experienced anything but sleek efficiency and courteous service. The demeanor of North American airports, the States in particular, appears to be one of brash rudeness and little sympathy in some sort of attempt to remain rigidly suffice. While I understand that ever since the country was shaken by 9/11, air security has been of utmost concern, the overtly rude and at often times uneducated way employees dole out "help" puts me, and other travelers I'm sure, in rotten moods and ends up slowing things down instead of speeding them up.
Take, for example the security check point where passengers must put their shoes, coats, and bags in trays to be scanned and walk through a metal detector. In every single America airport I've passed through security at (including Chicago, Miami, Washington and Newark to name a few) the brash officers and steely glares have made me more anxious and nervous than I have any reason to be and often make perfectly innocent travelers seem suspicious. Raising unnecessary flags only takes away attention from true problems and is poorly inefficient. In Tokyo, on the other hand, while going through the security check, officials were pleasant and courteous and slippers were every provided for passengers as we walked through while our shoes were x-rayed. Simple and efficient in comparison to the barefoot walk of suspicion we're subjected to in the States.
Obviously crappy airport service isn't going to be enough to derail me from traveling any time soon, but it sure does put a damper on an adventurous spirit. I'm finally in the air now and still have three more hours until we land and the search for my missing luggage begins. (Did I forget to mention that? Yes, on top of being an unpleasant zombie in transit for almost twenty hours, seems they've somehow lost my luggage. There are no words to describe my exasperation at this point.) Right now, all I want is a shower, a bed, and to be treated like a human while traveling though the States in the future.
x
Saturday, May 28, 2011
OMFG -- Shameless, Naked Models
The world of modeling is not for the shy. There's the frantic stripping and re-dressing of clothes backstage at fashion shows where all the models undress together in makeshift changing rooms, there's the bikini and lingerie castings in front of large groups of clients, the creatives that require nudes or implied nudes and much, much more. Long story short, being naked ain't no thang to a model after a solid run in the industry.
A job is a job, for me at least, and luckily I'm some one who's pretty darn comfortable with her body and does't mind being near-naked when need be. The key words there being when need be. The concept of shame is one that seems to allude many models after a few jobs here and there have gained them praise for their fine physiques. Let's get one thing straight here: it's modeling. We're all good-looking and have good bodies. It's the whole reason why we're afforded the luxury of a job where we get to pose pretty and be paid for it. This is another concept that seems to allude some models who feel the need to be naked, or near-naked, all the ding-dang time. I mean, I've worked jobs where some models have literally strutted around butt-ass naked inbetween outfits and had chats with the hairdressers, make-up artists and whoever the heck else happens to be in the room. Yup. Full conversations while all their junk and whatnot is hanging out. Perhaps it's an insecurity thing in the most messed up way where continually being unclothed invities adoring words from the masses of non-models who are around. Perhaps it's a consequence of being treated as nothing more than a pretty face for so long that being a piece of meat is de rigueur. Or perhaps, as I like to think, it's just plain nasty. For the love of all others around you, put some damn clothes on you silly, brain-dead little model!
Where this gets especially complicated is when you're dating a model. Boundaries of the body when in a relationship are of obvious importance, but when you're dating some one who's job it is to strip down and look hot, things can get complicated. The line between what is between you and your lover and your lover and all the people he or she works with gets blurred. Dare I say that in "normal" relationships, the only other person to see your signfiacant other naked is you! Well, that's not always the case with modeling. A flirty business by nature also doesn't aid in setting up where to draw that oh-so-crucial line. What counts as schmoozing in the modeling industry often translates into careless flirting in other circumstances and just adds more confusion, and often times hurtful actions to relationships.
But, let's be honest here. Only models who are truly self-deluded and egotistically arrogant can't see the clear lines between work neccessities and shameless exposure. Sadly, many of the models, both girls and guys (although moreso the men -- seems as though they just can't get enough of girls going gaga over six-packs an whatnot. Typical male egos in my opinion. Also, I suppose men can get away with being much less-dressed than women and have it be a lot less scandalous.) that I've met fit into that category. To gain most or all of your self-worth from physical priase is pathetic indeed. For shame! Or, I guess, lack of it.
Only in the modeling world would I feel the need to say such the ridiculously basic next line: Let's keep it classy and clothed peeps.
x
A job is a job, for me at least, and luckily I'm some one who's pretty darn comfortable with her body and does't mind being near-naked when need be. The key words there being when need be. The concept of shame is one that seems to allude many models after a few jobs here and there have gained them praise for their fine physiques. Let's get one thing straight here: it's modeling. We're all good-looking and have good bodies. It's the whole reason why we're afforded the luxury of a job where we get to pose pretty and be paid for it. This is another concept that seems to allude some models who feel the need to be naked, or near-naked, all the ding-dang time. I mean, I've worked jobs where some models have literally strutted around butt-ass naked inbetween outfits and had chats with the hairdressers, make-up artists and whoever the heck else happens to be in the room. Yup. Full conversations while all their junk and whatnot is hanging out. Perhaps it's an insecurity thing in the most messed up way where continually being unclothed invities adoring words from the masses of non-models who are around. Perhaps it's a consequence of being treated as nothing more than a pretty face for so long that being a piece of meat is de rigueur. Or perhaps, as I like to think, it's just plain nasty. For the love of all others around you, put some damn clothes on you silly, brain-dead little model!
Where this gets especially complicated is when you're dating a model. Boundaries of the body when in a relationship are of obvious importance, but when you're dating some one who's job it is to strip down and look hot, things can get complicated. The line between what is between you and your lover and your lover and all the people he or she works with gets blurred. Dare I say that in "normal" relationships, the only other person to see your signfiacant other naked is you! Well, that's not always the case with modeling. A flirty business by nature also doesn't aid in setting up where to draw that oh-so-crucial line. What counts as schmoozing in the modeling industry often translates into careless flirting in other circumstances and just adds more confusion, and often times hurtful actions to relationships.
But, let's be honest here. Only models who are truly self-deluded and egotistically arrogant can't see the clear lines between work neccessities and shameless exposure. Sadly, many of the models, both girls and guys (although moreso the men -- seems as though they just can't get enough of girls going gaga over six-packs an whatnot. Typical male egos in my opinion. Also, I suppose men can get away with being much less-dressed than women and have it be a lot less scandalous.) that I've met fit into that category. To gain most or all of your self-worth from physical priase is pathetic indeed. For shame! Or, I guess, lack of it.
Only in the modeling world would I feel the need to say such the ridiculously basic next line: Let's keep it classy and clothed peeps.
x
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
A little nip & tuck -- OMFG!
I can't stop staring at this chick's chest. It's probably around 2 a.m and I'm out at a club making superficial conversation with some girl I kinda-sorta-maybe-ish know. We're both taking absent-minded sips from our too-strong vodka-Redbulls and letting our eyes, and attention spans, drunkenly wander in and out of the conversation. Mine keep wandering down...to her ridiculously large, badly done tit job. Each of her girls is bigger than my head and look rock hard. They're abnormally high (I think she could rest her head on them should she ever get tired) and I can see her nips through her corset top -- they each look like they're running in different directions to try and get off her body. It's like a car accident...so bad yet I can't look away. Oh dear.
This poor girl is one of the many I see running rampant at clubs with terrible boob jobs. Too high, bad nips, highways running in between, and other little botches make me grateful for my small, but un-botched set of naturals. It's not just tit jobs that make for cringe-worthy eyesores, they're just the most noticeable and most on display when the sun goes down and the music comes on. Lip injections gone fish lips and extremely obvious nose jobs are also popular. Plastic surgery is more prevalent than ever, and I for one have nothing against it. If it makes you feel good, and helps with your self-esteem, by all means go ahead and do it. What I do have a problem with is bad plastic surgery. And goodness, is there ever a ton of that out there. I get that girls (and guys...we know you go under the knife too!) want it bad, but saving money is something you should do at the grocery store, not on your body. A couple hundred, or thousand dollars makes the difference between immaculate and, well whatever those two things are that girl got cemented to her chest happen to be!
I've had friends who have had amazing plastic surgery, from cheek injections to natural-looking boobs and it's made me consider what I would get done if anything. Yes, of course there's the mantra of being happy with yourself and loving exactly who you are, but I don't necessarily think that changes even when you make scalpel adjustments. As long as the changes you do make are for yourself, and not anyone else. (I think we've all heard the story of the girl who's boyfriend was cheating on her, so she got implants to "fix" it only to find out he was still cheating. Yeah, I don't think your boob size was the problem there, honey.) Making changes as we see fit to ourselves physically, whether it be through working out or plastic surgery, are ultimately to benefit ourselves and so I say, why the hell not?
I've yet to personally get any face or body enhancing procedures done, but I know that I probably will in the next couple years. I'm not particularly talking about anything major, but despite my youthful Asian genes, I'm sure a little nip and tuck here and there will keep me looking my best for the years to come. And, being in an industry where I am my own walking, talking resume, a little maintenance is appropriate. Let's realistic here, I won't be looking like a stripper any time soon (or ever, really) but perhaps refreshed and rejuvenated as I reach my late twenties. There you have it darling bloggees, a total admission on my part that a little needle, knife, or laser work will likely be touching this face and body in the years to come. And, with the right research, doctors, and knowing I won't cut corners, hopefully no one notices anything except other than the act that I'll be glowing. Gaga might disagree since we're not all Born This Way, but happier this way? Surely.
x
For those of you in Toronto and looking for some sprucing up, check out the following pages for details and services!
Socially Sexy Deals Toronto
Art of Dentistry
This poor girl is one of the many I see running rampant at clubs with terrible boob jobs. Too high, bad nips, highways running in between, and other little botches make me grateful for my small, but un-botched set of naturals. It's not just tit jobs that make for cringe-worthy eyesores, they're just the most noticeable and most on display when the sun goes down and the music comes on. Lip injections gone fish lips and extremely obvious nose jobs are also popular. Plastic surgery is more prevalent than ever, and I for one have nothing against it. If it makes you feel good, and helps with your self-esteem, by all means go ahead and do it. What I do have a problem with is bad plastic surgery. And goodness, is there ever a ton of that out there. I get that girls (and guys...we know you go under the knife too!) want it bad, but saving money is something you should do at the grocery store, not on your body. A couple hundred, or thousand dollars makes the difference between immaculate and, well whatever those two things are that girl got cemented to her chest happen to be!
I've had friends who have had amazing plastic surgery, from cheek injections to natural-looking boobs and it's made me consider what I would get done if anything. Yes, of course there's the mantra of being happy with yourself and loving exactly who you are, but I don't necessarily think that changes even when you make scalpel adjustments. As long as the changes you do make are for yourself, and not anyone else. (I think we've all heard the story of the girl who's boyfriend was cheating on her, so she got implants to "fix" it only to find out he was still cheating. Yeah, I don't think your boob size was the problem there, honey.) Making changes as we see fit to ourselves physically, whether it be through working out or plastic surgery, are ultimately to benefit ourselves and so I say, why the hell not?
I've yet to personally get any face or body enhancing procedures done, but I know that I probably will in the next couple years. I'm not particularly talking about anything major, but despite my youthful Asian genes, I'm sure a little nip and tuck here and there will keep me looking my best for the years to come. And, being in an industry where I am my own walking, talking resume, a little maintenance is appropriate. Let's realistic here, I won't be looking like a stripper any time soon (or ever, really) but perhaps refreshed and rejuvenated as I reach my late twenties. There you have it darling bloggees, a total admission on my part that a little needle, knife, or laser work will likely be touching this face and body in the years to come. And, with the right research, doctors, and knowing I won't cut corners, hopefully no one notices anything except other than the act that I'll be glowing. Gaga might disagree since we're not all Born This Way, but happier this way? Surely.
x
For those of you in Toronto and looking for some sprucing up, check out the following pages for details and services!
Socially Sexy Deals Toronto
Art of Dentistry
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Sheilakins Bucket List -- OMFG!
So despite all this apocalypse talk that had May 21st, 2011 pegged as the day the world would implode, it seems as though we're all still alive and well....and hey, it was even beautiful and sunny here in Toronto on our imagined last day! Doomsday theories are nothing new to humanity and I'm sure we could all go on about why this one in particular came to be (I have no idea to be perfectly honest. The Mayan calendar? The Bible? I'm guessing it's one or the other) but rather if the end of the world is happening, let's face it, there's not a whole lot we can do to stop it! (I don't mean to be pessimistic, but come on, unless it's a huge asteroid and we go all Bruce Willis in Armageddon on it's ass, we're hypothetically doomed.)
What world-ending theories are good for (other than significantly increasing the sales of canned foods) are evaluating our lives. What better excuse to examine the life we have lived thus far than being told it's going to possibly end? Exactly. To live a life of no regrets is a popular saying but one, like many ideals in life, that is easier said than done. Life is full of coulda, woulda, shoulda moments and it's human nature to theorize about all the what if's of major past decisions. I'm a believer in destiny so I'm generally satisfied in knowing that where I am in life at this moment, no matter how many issues I might have with it or troubles that befall me on th way, is where I'm supposed to be. (To read more on active destiny, see my previous posts.) However if the world was going to end this year, and my world with it at age 24, I guess there would be a few things I wish I got around to doing.
And so, in the spirit of all things apocalyptic (never really thought I'd be saying that!) I present to all you dear bloggees The Sheilakins Bucket List! Otherwise known as things I'd like to accomplish before the next possible Doomsday occurs!
1) Eat more cake.
I don't mean this quite exactly literally (well kind of...) but more in terms of just enjoying life, and food without worrying about appearance. Modeling is all nice and dandy for the most part, but there are days where I feel like a bloated cow when I know I'm definitely not a bloated cow. I nitpick at my body just like many other girls do and I've beaten myself up over eating this or that before, but when it comes down to it, life is too short not to try the most amazing foods everywhere you go. So yes, I would like to order that slice of cake for dessert, please and thank you!
2) Let go of the past.
Oy, this one is a doozey for me. I'm stubborn and highly observant which makes for some one who holds onto past discretions with an iron grip. Hurt me once and chances are, I won't forget it ever unless you do a whole lot of groveling. And even then it's probably still in the back of my mind. My unbudging mind combined with a surprisingly still-naive heart makes for a tortuous existence at times (not in an emo way, but more of an illogical way even though I know what I should be doing) and learning to live and let go of what's no longer relevant is a skill I should learn for my own happiness. To quote the Backstreet Boy's (yes, the Backstreet Boys) "I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me.." Good point boys, good point.
3) Have a great romance.
Carrie was a selfish and annoying RWF (rich white female) on Sex and he City, but damn the girl had some amazing quotes. To reiterate my favorite Sex and the City quote of all six seasons: "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love." Yes, I'll take one of those, please. Finding those zsa zsa zou moments is easy, chasing them is fun, but maintaining the zsa zsa zou with some one so it becomes a great love? That's something I've yet t experience. (For all of you who don't know what zsa zsa zou is: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=zsa%20zsa%20zsu)
4) See the world.
Traveling is one of the most enlightening and self-realizing experiences there is in my opinion. The world is such a vast and varied place, and even for some one who has traveled more than most my age, I still have only seen just a mere fraction of it. Traveling alone is all right for those who are very independent I suppose (quick injection of bitterness here: independent is just the nice was of saying selfish, again just my humble opinion) but for some one who, when happiest, wants to share that happiness with those she cares about, traveling the world is about sharing unique experiences with loved ones. My Singapore trip aside (I just needed to let loose there...it was a warpath of partying and fun if there ever was one), my travel experiences have consisted of discovering new areas and seeing the previously unseen with those who were in the same boat. Shared happiness indeed.
5) Be less selfish.
Speaking of selfishness, that's another area I want to improve upon. I tend to get caught up so much in my own life that I forget to help and listen to others. I remember my dad stopping me once in the kitchen at home and saying it was as though I was staying in a hotel and not at home since I was so in and out without interacting with my family at all. Being part of a tight knit family helps me remember take time out of my own shenanigans and see how my sister, mom, dad and brother are doing. The same goes for my friends who I feel deserve more of my attention than they some times get. Charity is another realm I have yet to really delve into and that's something I'd like to change as soon as possible.
So there you have it bloggeekins! I hope to live my life the fullest keeping my bucket list in mind, and hope that you all accomplish whatever it is you want to as well. You know, before the worlds ends again and all.
x
What world-ending theories are good for (other than significantly increasing the sales of canned foods) are evaluating our lives. What better excuse to examine the life we have lived thus far than being told it's going to possibly end? Exactly. To live a life of no regrets is a popular saying but one, like many ideals in life, that is easier said than done. Life is full of coulda, woulda, shoulda moments and it's human nature to theorize about all the what if's of major past decisions. I'm a believer in destiny so I'm generally satisfied in knowing that where I am in life at this moment, no matter how many issues I might have with it or troubles that befall me on th way, is where I'm supposed to be. (To read more on active destiny, see my previous posts.) However if the world was going to end this year, and my world with it at age 24, I guess there would be a few things I wish I got around to doing.
And so, in the spirit of all things apocalyptic (never really thought I'd be saying that!) I present to all you dear bloggees The Sheilakins Bucket List! Otherwise known as things I'd like to accomplish before the next possible Doomsday occurs!
1) Eat more cake.
I don't mean this quite exactly literally (well kind of...) but more in terms of just enjoying life, and food without worrying about appearance. Modeling is all nice and dandy for the most part, but there are days where I feel like a bloated cow when I know I'm definitely not a bloated cow. I nitpick at my body just like many other girls do and I've beaten myself up over eating this or that before, but when it comes down to it, life is too short not to try the most amazing foods everywhere you go. So yes, I would like to order that slice of cake for dessert, please and thank you!
2) Let go of the past.
Oy, this one is a doozey for me. I'm stubborn and highly observant which makes for some one who holds onto past discretions with an iron grip. Hurt me once and chances are, I won't forget it ever unless you do a whole lot of groveling. And even then it's probably still in the back of my mind. My unbudging mind combined with a surprisingly still-naive heart makes for a tortuous existence at times (not in an emo way, but more of an illogical way even though I know what I should be doing) and learning to live and let go of what's no longer relevant is a skill I should learn for my own happiness. To quote the Backstreet Boy's (yes, the Backstreet Boys) "I don't care who you are, where you're from, what you did, as long as you love me.." Good point boys, good point.
3) Have a great romance.
Carrie was a selfish and annoying RWF (rich white female) on Sex and he City, but damn the girl had some amazing quotes. To reiterate my favorite Sex and the City quote of all six seasons: "I'm looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love." Yes, I'll take one of those, please. Finding those zsa zsa zou moments is easy, chasing them is fun, but maintaining the zsa zsa zou with some one so it becomes a great love? That's something I've yet t experience. (For all of you who don't know what zsa zsa zou is: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=zsa%20zsa%20zsu)
4) See the world.
Traveling is one of the most enlightening and self-realizing experiences there is in my opinion. The world is such a vast and varied place, and even for some one who has traveled more than most my age, I still have only seen just a mere fraction of it. Traveling alone is all right for those who are very independent I suppose (quick injection of bitterness here: independent is just the nice was of saying selfish, again just my humble opinion) but for some one who, when happiest, wants to share that happiness with those she cares about, traveling the world is about sharing unique experiences with loved ones. My Singapore trip aside (I just needed to let loose there...it was a warpath of partying and fun if there ever was one), my travel experiences have consisted of discovering new areas and seeing the previously unseen with those who were in the same boat. Shared happiness indeed.
5) Be less selfish.
Speaking of selfishness, that's another area I want to improve upon. I tend to get caught up so much in my own life that I forget to help and listen to others. I remember my dad stopping me once in the kitchen at home and saying it was as though I was staying in a hotel and not at home since I was so in and out without interacting with my family at all. Being part of a tight knit family helps me remember take time out of my own shenanigans and see how my sister, mom, dad and brother are doing. The same goes for my friends who I feel deserve more of my attention than they some times get. Charity is another realm I have yet to really delve into and that's something I'd like to change as soon as possible.
So there you have it bloggeekins! I hope to live my life the fullest keeping my bucket list in mind, and hope that you all accomplish whatever it is you want to as well. You know, before the worlds ends again and all.
x
Sunday, May 22, 2011
OMFG -- Calling all gentlemen!
I hosted a one-off night at a club I've never been to and witnessed something I haven't in a long while -- a club fight. As messy, drunken, pig-headed physical brawl that started with two equally pig-headed alpha-males inside the club and, thanks to two burly bouncers removing their drunk asses from the premises, spewed out onto the streets. From what I saw, it was a little spat over egos that turned into a full-out body throw-down because both parties were highly inebriated. I think I speak for most well-to-do women out there when I say guys getting into bar fights over idiotic stupidities is quite possibly the most unattractive thing ever. Which brings me to the question that's been floating around in my head the entire cab ride home...where have all the gentlemen gone?
Sure, defending a woman's honor is perhaps the only mildly acceptable justification for a bar fight -- and even then, it's much sexier, to me at least, when a man can conquer a jerk with a few choice words instead of fists. Perhaps working in the nightlife industry, or doing most of my socializing in it, has dulled my impression of the male population since most of the guys I meet are, how shall I phrase this nicely....massive douchebags. There are the men who can't keep a conversation going at eye-level, the men who walk in front of me and let doors slam in my face, the men who buy drinks and expect the world from you because of it, and finally the men who seem gentlemanly at first, but then want recognition beyond belief because they did some minor gesture for you. Dude, you held my hand so I could climb past the crowd and into the booth -- I'm not going to get out any medals just yet. I guess gentlemen for show are a-plenty in the clubbing world since peacocking is what most are out to do (who's surrounded by the hottest girls, who can ball with the most bottles, who can behave the most gentlemanly and make sure everyone sees it...I could go on) but those that make sure us girls feel comfortable simply because they care are a dying breed.
Obviously we live in a modern world and woman are the equals of men in more ways than ever, but come on, would it kill anyone to recognize we're still exquisite creatures who deserve a little extra consideration every now and then? Honest to goodness I once had a boy I was dating literally run ahead of me in the snow because he was cold while I maneuvered dangerously over the icy sidewalks in nothing but heels and bare legs. Yes, really. That may be more of a reflection on my choice in men, but still, you get the point! The tailoring of a true man lies in his subtleties in my opinion, and actions like discreetly paying the dinner bill before it even comes to the table, covering the door charge without us even knowing there was one, and yes, simple gestures like guiding us through crowded spots without trying to feel us up go a hell of a long way. Sophisticated, patient, and classy are words I like associate with both my male and female friends...and any potential boyfriends I might add, and so far, my girlfriends are effortlessly winning. How many times have we as girls called other girls our "boyfriends" for the night, or joked about each other as "wifeys' and whatnot? Sure, part of it is because girlfriends tend to be really close, but it's also because we know our girlfriends will take care of us in a way most men just can seem to grasp.
So to all the men out there who have ladies in their lives they care about...a mom, girlfriend, crush, friend, whoever it may be, take a little time to go at her pace when need be. And, if you take but one thing away from this entire post let it be this: make sure you hold her damn hand when she's walking over icy sidewalks in heels and bare legs. That is all.
x
Sure, defending a woman's honor is perhaps the only mildly acceptable justification for a bar fight -- and even then, it's much sexier, to me at least, when a man can conquer a jerk with a few choice words instead of fists. Perhaps working in the nightlife industry, or doing most of my socializing in it, has dulled my impression of the male population since most of the guys I meet are, how shall I phrase this nicely....massive douchebags. There are the men who can't keep a conversation going at eye-level, the men who walk in front of me and let doors slam in my face, the men who buy drinks and expect the world from you because of it, and finally the men who seem gentlemanly at first, but then want recognition beyond belief because they did some minor gesture for you. Dude, you held my hand so I could climb past the crowd and into the booth -- I'm not going to get out any medals just yet. I guess gentlemen for show are a-plenty in the clubbing world since peacocking is what most are out to do (who's surrounded by the hottest girls, who can ball with the most bottles, who can behave the most gentlemanly and make sure everyone sees it...I could go on) but those that make sure us girls feel comfortable simply because they care are a dying breed.
Obviously we live in a modern world and woman are the equals of men in more ways than ever, but come on, would it kill anyone to recognize we're still exquisite creatures who deserve a little extra consideration every now and then? Honest to goodness I once had a boy I was dating literally run ahead of me in the snow because he was cold while I maneuvered dangerously over the icy sidewalks in nothing but heels and bare legs. Yes, really. That may be more of a reflection on my choice in men, but still, you get the point! The tailoring of a true man lies in his subtleties in my opinion, and actions like discreetly paying the dinner bill before it even comes to the table, covering the door charge without us even knowing there was one, and yes, simple gestures like guiding us through crowded spots without trying to feel us up go a hell of a long way. Sophisticated, patient, and classy are words I like associate with both my male and female friends...and any potential boyfriends I might add, and so far, my girlfriends are effortlessly winning. How many times have we as girls called other girls our "boyfriends" for the night, or joked about each other as "wifeys' and whatnot? Sure, part of it is because girlfriends tend to be really close, but it's also because we know our girlfriends will take care of us in a way most men just can seem to grasp.
So to all the men out there who have ladies in their lives they care about...a mom, girlfriend, crush, friend, whoever it may be, take a little time to go at her pace when need be. And, if you take but one thing away from this entire post let it be this: make sure you hold her damn hand when she's walking over icy sidewalks in heels and bare legs. That is all.
x
Saturday, May 21, 2011
OMFG -- A little inner thought.
I can withstand a surprisingly high amount of emotional stress. My friends have mentioned on numerous occasions that I function at a level most girls would break down and cry at the thought of. And whenever my love and I get into spats, he brings up (delicately worded as always...he's a nice guy) that I'm really "emotional' and that it's "beautiful' but "hard to deal with". Read: I love you but you're fucking crazy. (For more on girls being crazy, read my previous post.) A fair assessment if there ever was one, but what's a girl to do?
The problem with highly emotional girls is that we justify things in or heads that seem ridiculously irrational to the outside world. I've caused fights over things that should be dead, gone, and buried six feet under simply because I am bothered by it still and can feel it gnawing away at my insides. As much as an exaggeration as it sounds like, it's true. It's not like it's exactly fun being some one who feels the need to squash every annoyance so it doesn't fester into something that will ultimately hurt, but it's the person I am and I've come to accept that. It took twenty-odd years for me to even come to that conclusion, but let's be honest here: everyone is flawed and the sooner you accept yours, the sooner you can figure out a way to deal with them. Let's keep in mind that emotions are always tied to things, or people more often, that are of meaning. Otherwise I can be as ruthless as the next ice queen, but that's another post entirely.
So, in having accepted this flaw in myself, just how am I supposed to differentiate from becoming a total psycho bitch? Honestly, I haven't quite figured it out yet. As insanely cliched as it sounds, our twenties truly are for self-discovery and "finding ourselves". (And cue the growing up moments montage set to Greenday's Time of your Life) I've learned to keep away from those who are negative energy in my opinion, surround myself with positive people as much as possible and stay as rational as possible when irate. (My mother used to tell me to count to 100 before acting when angry...this tip has probably saved several people from getting vases, glasses, and other objects hurled at them.) Some times within whatever relationship I'm in I find myself looking to the other person for support and calm -- but to count on some one else for inner balance is never a good idea.
I guess I'm just over-thinking as usual my dear bloggees, after all it is 4am and I was out earlier tonight. To wrap this intra-personal little post I felt the need to write before bed, I will say this: we are all flawed beings and finding inner balance on our own, without being dependent on anyone else, is the first step to a happiness that no one will be able to take away from you.
x
The problem with highly emotional girls is that we justify things in or heads that seem ridiculously irrational to the outside world. I've caused fights over things that should be dead, gone, and buried six feet under simply because I am bothered by it still and can feel it gnawing away at my insides. As much as an exaggeration as it sounds like, it's true. It's not like it's exactly fun being some one who feels the need to squash every annoyance so it doesn't fester into something that will ultimately hurt, but it's the person I am and I've come to accept that. It took twenty-odd years for me to even come to that conclusion, but let's be honest here: everyone is flawed and the sooner you accept yours, the sooner you can figure out a way to deal with them. Let's keep in mind that emotions are always tied to things, or people more often, that are of meaning. Otherwise I can be as ruthless as the next ice queen, but that's another post entirely.
So, in having accepted this flaw in myself, just how am I supposed to differentiate from becoming a total psycho bitch? Honestly, I haven't quite figured it out yet. As insanely cliched as it sounds, our twenties truly are for self-discovery and "finding ourselves". (And cue the growing up moments montage set to Greenday's Time of your Life) I've learned to keep away from those who are negative energy in my opinion, surround myself with positive people as much as possible and stay as rational as possible when irate. (My mother used to tell me to count to 100 before acting when angry...this tip has probably saved several people from getting vases, glasses, and other objects hurled at them.) Some times within whatever relationship I'm in I find myself looking to the other person for support and calm -- but to count on some one else for inner balance is never a good idea.
I guess I'm just over-thinking as usual my dear bloggees, after all it is 4am and I was out earlier tonight. To wrap this intra-personal little post I felt the need to write before bed, I will say this: we are all flawed beings and finding inner balance on our own, without being dependent on anyone else, is the first step to a happiness that no one will be able to take away from you.
x
Thursday, May 19, 2011
OMFG -- Girls be Crazy.
Girls are crazy. I don't mean that in a derogatory way by any means -- crazy is a good thing in my books and oh boy, let me reiterate...girls are crazy. Just nuts. Psycho. Bananas, if you will. If there's one thing I've learned in my twenties thus far, it's that girls are crazy and boys are stupid. As far as men go, well there isn't much to say there. Under-thinking and over-acting results in stupid. End of story. But women.....oh goodness. We could write novels and novels on the highly complicated and intricately intertwined way through which women are perceived as crazy! So allow me touch upon Chapter One at least in the Great American Novel of Women: being cray-cray in your twenties.
The height of my dear fellow girls manic years appear to be our twenties. Blame it on impending maturity, blame it on constant change, or simply blame it on the al-a-a-al-a-alcohol baby, either way I'm sure we've all met, dealt with, or purposefully spilled our drinks on what can only be described as some crazy ass bitches. However, all crazy ass bitches start off as normal, pleasant girls. It usually is a slow decent from there with crippling factors such as boys, friends, frenemies, boys, careers, parties, and what's that? More boys. Women are the only creatures I know of who can love and despise each other so frequently and effervescently. I have literally had girls tell me "I love you!" only to smack talk me to the next person they turn to. I've also experienced varying relationships with girls whom I am super tight with, then suddenly cannot deal with anymore. It's a variety of factors really, all in motion all at the same time, perpetually and complicatedly that spin through a girls' head and get untangled and re-tangled when mixed with the emotions, security levels, and confidence issues she happens to be dealing with on whatever particular day. I'm not advocating that men are less emotionally complicated creatures....no wait, that's exactly it. Either that, or they just choose to ignore their emotions, something I can assure you no girl can do on a regular basis.
One only has to look at pop culture to see this bitches-be-crazy trend is widespread. Anyone see Bridesmaids this weekend? (Hilariously funny and not just in a raunchy way -- Team Wiig for the win!) Long story short, putting a group of girlfriends together in a high-stress situation (that being planning a wedding-- anyone who says otherwise is lying!) ends up in pent-up psycho rants, tears, and jealousy. Oh jealousy...the green-eyed monster born from insecurity is, in my opinion, the root of 95% of all girls gone crazy. No one waltzes into their twenties entirely sure of themselves (anyone who says otherwise..totally lying again) and when you're in a scene where looks get you places, maintaining ideals of perfection can be an obsession. Throw in other factors (once again, I'm going to stress boys, the little devils) and you've got situation after situation where girls feel they need to validate themselves in one way or another. I'm a self-admitted possessive person (I'm going to blame it on me being a typical Taurus...and nothing else) and nothing grates a girl's self esteem like a little bout of jealousy. Sadly, for most girls it's instinct to get fiercely jealous whenever they see other hot girls around. Tearing them down is an easy way to cement your own self-esteem but ultimately an immature tactic.
Girl on girl hate is so rife in the clubbing and modeling world, and within any social group really. It's ridiculous and unjustified, and I've been on both ends of it throughout my teen and twenties. However, making a conscious effort to be a sister instead of a hater is an easy one and one I've tried to follow in recent years. I'm nice to everyone for the most part (unless something mean is done, then obviously I'd stand my ground....strongly too.) and it's so much easier, nicer, and well, better for your self-esteem at the end of the day to be a lover not a fighter. Why bother ripping apart the beautiful girl who just walked into your casting? It's so much better to get to know her and end up partying together til 4am that weekend.
Acknowledging such a simple rules as "be nice to others" may appear juvenile, obvious and most of all logical....but from one female twenty-something to you all, trust me when I say there is no logic as a girl in your twenties. Just a whole of cray cray.
x
The height of my dear fellow girls manic years appear to be our twenties. Blame it on impending maturity, blame it on constant change, or simply blame it on the al-a-a-al-a-alcohol baby, either way I'm sure we've all met, dealt with, or purposefully spilled our drinks on what can only be described as some crazy ass bitches. However, all crazy ass bitches start off as normal, pleasant girls. It usually is a slow decent from there with crippling factors such as boys, friends, frenemies, boys, careers, parties, and what's that? More boys. Women are the only creatures I know of who can love and despise each other so frequently and effervescently. I have literally had girls tell me "I love you!" only to smack talk me to the next person they turn to. I've also experienced varying relationships with girls whom I am super tight with, then suddenly cannot deal with anymore. It's a variety of factors really, all in motion all at the same time, perpetually and complicatedly that spin through a girls' head and get untangled and re-tangled when mixed with the emotions, security levels, and confidence issues she happens to be dealing with on whatever particular day. I'm not advocating that men are less emotionally complicated creatures....no wait, that's exactly it. Either that, or they just choose to ignore their emotions, something I can assure you no girl can do on a regular basis.
One only has to look at pop culture to see this bitches-be-crazy trend is widespread. Anyone see Bridesmaids this weekend? (Hilariously funny and not just in a raunchy way -- Team Wiig for the win!) Long story short, putting a group of girlfriends together in a high-stress situation (that being planning a wedding-- anyone who says otherwise is lying!) ends up in pent-up psycho rants, tears, and jealousy. Oh jealousy...the green-eyed monster born from insecurity is, in my opinion, the root of 95% of all girls gone crazy. No one waltzes into their twenties entirely sure of themselves (anyone who says otherwise..totally lying again) and when you're in a scene where looks get you places, maintaining ideals of perfection can be an obsession. Throw in other factors (once again, I'm going to stress boys, the little devils) and you've got situation after situation where girls feel they need to validate themselves in one way or another. I'm a self-admitted possessive person (I'm going to blame it on me being a typical Taurus...and nothing else) and nothing grates a girl's self esteem like a little bout of jealousy. Sadly, for most girls it's instinct to get fiercely jealous whenever they see other hot girls around. Tearing them down is an easy way to cement your own self-esteem but ultimately an immature tactic.
Girl on girl hate is so rife in the clubbing and modeling world, and within any social group really. It's ridiculous and unjustified, and I've been on both ends of it throughout my teen and twenties. However, making a conscious effort to be a sister instead of a hater is an easy one and one I've tried to follow in recent years. I'm nice to everyone for the most part (unless something mean is done, then obviously I'd stand my ground....strongly too.) and it's so much easier, nicer, and well, better for your self-esteem at the end of the day to be a lover not a fighter. Why bother ripping apart the beautiful girl who just walked into your casting? It's so much better to get to know her and end up partying together til 4am that weekend.
Acknowledging such a simple rules as "be nice to others" may appear juvenile, obvious and most of all logical....but from one female twenty-something to you all, trust me when I say there is no logic as a girl in your twenties. Just a whole of cray cray.
x
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
OMFG -- Another twentysomething Bday!
In a little under an hour, it's my birthday. That means I'll be 24 which means I'll be one year away from 25 which is basically almost at 30, which is just a tad away from 40, which is middle-aged and holy crap, I'm basically halfway to my deathbed! Aaaaand deep breath. As you can see, birthday celebrations have changed from the cake-filled, care-free parties of my youth to ticking little time bombs (I always picture those ones from the Mario games that march at you with cranks on their stupid backs) that remind me I've lost another year. Granted, at least my Asian genes have saved me from counting the wrinkles for now (actually, this is the one area I don't mind gaining another year -- I feel sexier with every number added to my age for goodness knows why. Chalk it up to confidence and experience), but feel like I have so much more to do and so little time to do it whenever May 17th rolls around on the calendar.
Of course, this usually is mirrored for the most part in my career. Or lack there-of at the moment. After watching The Social Network I literally muttered "Fuck you, Zuckerberg." for making every single twenty-something on the face of this earth feel like a hopeless underachiever. Yes, I've gained a lot of life experience, traveled somewhat thoroughly, obtained a degree, loved and loss and loved again, made friends I wouldn't trade for all the Spring/Summer 2011 collections in the world, and grown wiser (well let's hope) than the person I was years ago, but I've yet to prove it all in the bank and nothing says tick tick tick like a lack of major ka-chings! I've been fortunate enough to hold great jobs at the University of Toronto and made some pretty sweet cash modeling, but as I get older I realize I need something that pays big and is, more importantly, stable. As my mom used to say when I was little, half-jokingly and perhaps half-worriedly: "Sheila my darling, you will need to make a lot of money because you like nice clothes and you like seafood." Oh goodness, was she ever right.
But, enough of the money talk for the time being! I have confidence in my intelligence and ambition and therefore know that something will arise soon, and when it does I'll be ready to jump on it. (Well that, or I'm going grab it by the balls. I am never one to wait for anything other than my order to come in restaurants. And even then I glare at the waitresses. Seriously, how long does sushi take? It's not even cooked.) I also have confidence in my ability to work hard, something I see missing in many of the twenty-somethings I've chatted with while out and about. Nothing worth having in this world comes easy, and I'm fully prepared to work my ass off for whatever I think is worth it.
With that noted, a relative peace of mind --at least for this week so I can celebrate stress-free --I am excited to see what comes next during my 24th year! If the past is any indication, it should be one filled with beautiful times with friends, exciting endeavors around the world, partying like there's no tomorrow, gaining the knowledge I need to go further than I have before, opportunities I never dreamed of, and as always, just enough romance and scandal to keep things interesting. I'm sure the stress of forming my career will hit be in about a week, when all the hangovers and confetti have passed, but hey -- at least I know I still look pretty damn good. ;-)
x
Of course, this usually is mirrored for the most part in my career. Or lack there-of at the moment. After watching The Social Network I literally muttered "Fuck you, Zuckerberg." for making every single twenty-something on the face of this earth feel like a hopeless underachiever. Yes, I've gained a lot of life experience, traveled somewhat thoroughly, obtained a degree, loved and loss and loved again, made friends I wouldn't trade for all the Spring/Summer 2011 collections in the world, and grown wiser (well let's hope) than the person I was years ago, but I've yet to prove it all in the bank and nothing says tick tick tick like a lack of major ka-chings! I've been fortunate enough to hold great jobs at the University of Toronto and made some pretty sweet cash modeling, but as I get older I realize I need something that pays big and is, more importantly, stable. As my mom used to say when I was little, half-jokingly and perhaps half-worriedly: "Sheila my darling, you will need to make a lot of money because you like nice clothes and you like seafood." Oh goodness, was she ever right.
But, enough of the money talk for the time being! I have confidence in my intelligence and ambition and therefore know that something will arise soon, and when it does I'll be ready to jump on it. (Well that, or I'm going grab it by the balls. I am never one to wait for anything other than my order to come in restaurants. And even then I glare at the waitresses. Seriously, how long does sushi take? It's not even cooked.) I also have confidence in my ability to work hard, something I see missing in many of the twenty-somethings I've chatted with while out and about. Nothing worth having in this world comes easy, and I'm fully prepared to work my ass off for whatever I think is worth it.
With that noted, a relative peace of mind --at least for this week so I can celebrate stress-free --I am excited to see what comes next during my 24th year! If the past is any indication, it should be one filled with beautiful times with friends, exciting endeavors around the world, partying like there's no tomorrow, gaining the knowledge I need to go further than I have before, opportunities I never dreamed of, and as always, just enough romance and scandal to keep things interesting. I'm sure the stress of forming my career will hit be in about a week, when all the hangovers and confetti have passed, but hey -- at least I know I still look pretty damn good. ;-)
x
Sunday, May 15, 2011
OMFG -- On the hook
There's a particularly insightful episode of How I Met Your Mother (NPH can do no wrong in my eyes...even though the show is seriously sucking as of late) where the gang talks about being on "the hook" as far as unsuccessful relationships go. The hook being when some one you're interested in gives you false hope as to some magical and perfect future together when really they're just using you to make themselves feel better. Ego boosts, adoring company, some one to do their chores...that kind of deal.
I think we've all either been on, or have had some one on our hook. Humans are selfish creatures by nature (there are rare exceptions...but let's face it, if it feels good we're usually going to do it) and relationships are the one realm where selfishness comes to surface since you're being mirrored by another person. Yes, employing the hook technique is cruel and usually ends up making you look like an ass to people you're actually interested in, but perhaps what keeps people getting hooked continuously is that hope of one day.
A promise of a future where one day everything will be perfect between you two and one day where you can be with them properly because timing, careers, and all other life factors will let them be. Now allow me to burst the bubble: that idealistic one day? Not going to happen. This false hope applies not only to simply hooked -type deals, but also many dysfunctional relationships in general. Bluntly put, if your significant other says they can't be with you right now but perhaps later in their life things will somehow work out, it's because they're not willing to accommodate you now. [Let's read between the lines here: you're not worth it to them.] Ah, a harsh realization for many, but the sooner you or the other person realizes one of you isn't worth it, the sooner things will make sense. These conclusions are especially prone to occur to us twenty-somethings since it's the decade where many of us have so many things on the go-go-go: careers need to be established, traveling seems mandatory and we make many decisions that directly affect the rest of our lives. However, to some, when they find the right person, all that other stuff can be adjusted, and some times even end in happily ever after. A rarity in this day and age even a romantic like myself can admit to, but possible nonetheless.
We're living in the here and now darling bloggees, and if it isn't working in the here and now, it's likely not going to work in the future either. Even if you think it will -- why waste your time torturing yourself about all the maybe situations that could arise? I say, leave it alone, try your best to forget it, and get back out there. Chances are there's some one who thinks you're worth it not one day, but right now. The possibilities in this world of dating and relationships in our twenties are endless, and perhaps it just takes opening our eyes to all the opportunities to understand that it's not the value others place on us that counts, it's the value we place on ourselves.
x
I think we've all either been on, or have had some one on our hook. Humans are selfish creatures by nature (there are rare exceptions...but let's face it, if it feels good we're usually going to do it) and relationships are the one realm where selfishness comes to surface since you're being mirrored by another person. Yes, employing the hook technique is cruel and usually ends up making you look like an ass to people you're actually interested in, but perhaps what keeps people getting hooked continuously is that hope of one day.
A promise of a future where one day everything will be perfect between you two and one day where you can be with them properly because timing, careers, and all other life factors will let them be. Now allow me to burst the bubble: that idealistic one day? Not going to happen. This false hope applies not only to simply hooked -type deals, but also many dysfunctional relationships in general. Bluntly put, if your significant other says they can't be with you right now but perhaps later in their life things will somehow work out, it's because they're not willing to accommodate you now. [Let's read between the lines here: you're not worth it to them.] Ah, a harsh realization for many, but the sooner you or the other person realizes one of you isn't worth it, the sooner things will make sense. These conclusions are especially prone to occur to us twenty-somethings since it's the decade where many of us have so many things on the go-go-go: careers need to be established, traveling seems mandatory and we make many decisions that directly affect the rest of our lives. However, to some, when they find the right person, all that other stuff can be adjusted, and some times even end in happily ever after. A rarity in this day and age even a romantic like myself can admit to, but possible nonetheless.
We're living in the here and now darling bloggees, and if it isn't working in the here and now, it's likely not going to work in the future either. Even if you think it will -- why waste your time torturing yourself about all the maybe situations that could arise? I say, leave it alone, try your best to forget it, and get back out there. Chances are there's some one who thinks you're worth it not one day, but right now. The possibilities in this world of dating and relationships in our twenties are endless, and perhaps it just takes opening our eyes to all the opportunities to understand that it's not the value others place on us that counts, it's the value we place on ourselves.
x
Sunday, May 8, 2011
OMFG -- Thank Goodness for Mothers
It's a beautiful Sunday here in Toronto and I just wanted to take a moment to write a quick note and wish everyone a Happy Mother's Day!
My mom uprooted her life in Hong Kong some 35 years ago, made the trek across the pond with little to nothing except my Dad by her side, and set out to create a better life for me, my sister and brother than she ever had growing up. I am thankful everyday.
Since then my mother has been the lovely combo of fuddy-duddy cute old parent to giggle at, supportive shoulder to lean on, and dispenser of wise words to live by. Neither over-bearing nor intrusive, my mother has simply given me guidelines as to how to go about things, given her own life experience. She lets me make my mistakes but is always there to pick up the pieces. And after I am always wiser.
Unsettled, unsure and lost I may be, but I know the one anchor I'll always have is her.
Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms, caregivers, moms-to-be, and special people in your lives, lovellies!
x
My mom uprooted her life in Hong Kong some 35 years ago, made the trek across the pond with little to nothing except my Dad by her side, and set out to create a better life for me, my sister and brother than she ever had growing up. I am thankful everyday.
Since then my mother has been the lovely combo of fuddy-duddy cute old parent to giggle at, supportive shoulder to lean on, and dispenser of wise words to live by. Neither over-bearing nor intrusive, my mother has simply given me guidelines as to how to go about things, given her own life experience. She lets me make my mistakes but is always there to pick up the pieces. And after I am always wiser.
Unsettled, unsure and lost I may be, but I know the one anchor I'll always have is her.
Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms, caregivers, moms-to-be, and special people in your lives, lovellies!
x
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
OMFG -- Tatts.
I wear my heart on my sleeve....quite literally actually! I have three small hearts tattooed onto my wrist, drawn by three people who are near and dear to my own heart. These love scrawls are one of four tattoos I've amassed over the past five years and are all of similarly sentimental value both in love and my outlook on life.
I wouldn't characterize myself as some one who fits the mold as a tattooed being -- I'm not especially rebellious, a repressed emo teen, remotely punk or currently residing in a trailer park...but that archetype is a dated one even so. I choose to see my inked art as trickling love notes (of self-love, family love and perhaps one day romantic love --although symbolically. Note to all you girls and boys who think you're with the "one" and absolutely must needle their names into your skin: don't.) that tell a story throughout my body. They really are just for me with the other three being in rather discreet places...the only person who sees those on a regular basis other than myself is my boyfriend. The reason I got them? Well I am certain in the things I believe in and that was enough for me to get some permanent reminders of those ideals. No butterflies or dolphins on this body!
The tattooed stereotype has faded significantly over the past couple of decades. More twenty-somethings now than ever before are getting inked and one only has to look around on a crowded night at any given club to see proof. From hardcore arm sleeves to misguided tramp stamps and everything in between can be noted on the masses of dancing scantily-clad bodies. Our generation, more than any other, is choosing to get inked and the numbers just keep going up! While the starchy and rigid may classify this as a disobedient youth or poor decision-making, I think it's a nice declaration that we twenty-somethings, now more than ever, are overtly confident in our thoughts, feelings and actions. I'm always interested when some one tells me why they got a tattoo and the meaning behind it. It's usually thought-provoking and intriguing...save for the Mickey Mouses mowing lawns in private areas and other results of hilariously drunken escapades!
Despite what I may think personally of all the visually silly tattoos I've seen (Chinese characters written backwards, mustaches on fingers, badly inked tribal signs and any creepily lifelike portrait just to name a few..) I think it's totally endearing and even more so another unifying aspect of this particular generation of twenty-somethings! Thoughts become actions if you believe they will and perhaps tattoos are the first step in solidifying some of our most important thoughts and experiences in life thus far. So draw it, sketch it, think it, ink it -- just be confident enough to own it; and isn't that exactly what we all are.
x
I wouldn't characterize myself as some one who fits the mold as a tattooed being -- I'm not especially rebellious, a repressed emo teen, remotely punk or currently residing in a trailer park...but that archetype is a dated one even so. I choose to see my inked art as trickling love notes (of self-love, family love and perhaps one day romantic love --although symbolically. Note to all you girls and boys who think you're with the "one" and absolutely must needle their names into your skin: don't.) that tell a story throughout my body. They really are just for me with the other three being in rather discreet places...the only person who sees those on a regular basis other than myself is my boyfriend. The reason I got them? Well I am certain in the things I believe in and that was enough for me to get some permanent reminders of those ideals. No butterflies or dolphins on this body!
The tattooed stereotype has faded significantly over the past couple of decades. More twenty-somethings now than ever before are getting inked and one only has to look around on a crowded night at any given club to see proof. From hardcore arm sleeves to misguided tramp stamps and everything in between can be noted on the masses of dancing scantily-clad bodies. Our generation, more than any other, is choosing to get inked and the numbers just keep going up! While the starchy and rigid may classify this as a disobedient youth or poor decision-making, I think it's a nice declaration that we twenty-somethings, now more than ever, are overtly confident in our thoughts, feelings and actions. I'm always interested when some one tells me why they got a tattoo and the meaning behind it. It's usually thought-provoking and intriguing...save for the Mickey Mouses mowing lawns in private areas and other results of hilariously drunken escapades!
Despite what I may think personally of all the visually silly tattoos I've seen (Chinese characters written backwards, mustaches on fingers, badly inked tribal signs and any creepily lifelike portrait just to name a few..) I think it's totally endearing and even more so another unifying aspect of this particular generation of twenty-somethings! Thoughts become actions if you believe they will and perhaps tattoos are the first step in solidifying some of our most important thoughts and experiences in life thus far. So draw it, sketch it, think it, ink it -- just be confident enough to own it; and isn't that exactly what we all are.
x
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