Enough said?

I was recently watching “Louie”, the tv show starring Louie C.K. He makes me depressed -in a good way. I like Louie C.K. because he’s usually so dark and harsh and right it smacks me in the face.

The last episode had Louie and his friends playing poker. One of the guys, Rick is a homosexual. The guys ask him questions about gay sex and orgies and so on. Towards the end Louie asks Rick if he gets offended when he uses the word “faggot” on stage. Rick replies with etymology of the phrase. It is so shocking and disgusting that it made me cringe.

Here’s what he says:

Well, the word “faggot” really means a bundle of sticks used for kindling in a fire. Now, in the middle ages, when they used to burn people they thought were witches? They used to burn homosexuals, too. And, they used to burn the witches at a stake, but they thought the homosexuals were too low and disgusting to be given a stake to be burnt on, so they used to just throw them in with the kindling, with the other faggots. So that’s how you get “flaming faggot”.

He also adds:

You might wanna know that every gay man in America has probably had that word shouted at them while they’re being beaten up, sometimes many times, sometimes by a lot of people all at once. So, when you say it, it kind of brings that all back up. But, you know, by all means, use it. Get your laughs. But you know, now you know what it means.

I can’t ever imagine someone using the word knowing where it comes from. But I can’t imagine beating up someone because they are different than me.

You can watch the video of the scene here, the part which I talked about starts around min5.

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Back in the early 90s I lost my uncle to HIV. I’ve heard the stories about how he was treated in the hospital and the stigma that surrounded the disease. The discrimination he went through, being a gay man living with AIDS.

We have lost far too many good people to this pandemic. We have lost too many kids, who didn’t even get the chance to live. 2 million children under the age of 15 are living with HIV.

In the modern world, HIV is no longer a death sentence. New cases of HIV are down %17 from 2001. Although this is good news, it means more people living with HIV. As Margaret Chan, director-general of the WHO, said: “We cannot let this momentum wane. Now is the time to redouble our efforts, and save many more lives.”

So today, take time out of your busy schedule, stop for a second. Check out the links below and see what you can do. I will not taunt you with pictures of children, women and men suffering, especially in Africa with this disease. Help stop the pandemic.

UNAIDS
WORLD AIDS CAMPAIGN
GLOBAL AIDS ALLIANCE
WORLD AIDS DAY
JOIN RED

I’m taking a make up class. Not a “ok now this is how you put on mascara for the club” class but a class for students in the mpt department. So it’s basically make up for the movies.

The class has been exiting and fun and hopefully you’ll get a how to/look what I can do/aren’t I awesome post soon.

Last class we learned how to lay a beard on someone. It takes annoyingly long and the process is a pain in the ass. But as usual everyone had to lay beards on their partners. I gave my partner a macho man mustache and he gave me an amish beard.

So the amish beard made me look like a crossover between a metalhead and jesus.

Here is a classmate’s after shot.

I have to tell you. I love beards (well on men). I think beards are hot and awesome. I also thought Salma Hayek looked hot as the bearded lady in Cirque De Freak. But again, that’s just me.

Every class we joke about leaving the class with our current make ups and then never follow through and clean up and leave. The beard just sparked something in me. I just wanted to see how people would react to a girl with a looong beard.

So I left class like that. And here is the picture, Eren has advised me against putting it online :) but I decided not to listen. Can’t hurt to put a few smiles on a few faces. Oh, and I have really long hair so it’s like they’ve merged into one. I kinda look like cousin it.

The walk out of school was fine. These are art students who live in San Francisco, a beard on a girl has no shock value. Even with out the art students. This is San Francisco. I’ve been to Castro st on halloween and I’ve been to the Folsom street fair. I’ve seen naked men and bondage mistresses on the street. How bad could the response be.

The first thing I’ve noticed was that I could NOT get a cab. A cab stopped and when the dude saw me he raised his hand and told me to stop. He then continued to stare at me. People in cars were slowing down to look. I felt naked. Like something was wrong with me. Keep in mind that there are women who are born with disorders that make them develop long beards, they are basically bearded ladies, and we know them as sideshow/circus freaks.

A friend of mine stopped a cab for me and I got in. The driver had obviously not seen me before we stopped (he later admitted that he hadn’t). The first thing I told him was that the beard was fake. This was probably me trying to compensate the fact that I could be anything but outside the social norms of beauty.

We got to talking with the driver and had a nice conversation all the way home. I got out and saw the owner of the downstairs market, i told him I was taking a make up class for films and had to get a fake beard.

I won’t tie this to any psychological or sociological conclusion. All I can say is, I chickened out. I am not an “edgy” person. The only thing that shocked me was that I could some how make San Franciscan uneasy.

Also, here something to make you forget that I haven’t been updating the blog lately.

It was written by someone called Ates. Here is what it read:

Quoting from the Bible when making an argument against rational thinking is in the same lines as:
–
A – I don’t believe in Santa Claus.
B – You fool. Listen to these words: “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.” See? Santa is real.
A – Ah, I see now. Thanks for the quotation!
–
Oh, an there’s always CAPITAL LETTERS to win an argument:
–
A – I don’t believe in fairies.
B – YOU FOOL. FAIRIES ARE REAL!!!
A – Thanks for changing my mind with those huge letters.

bonus:

The three types of people I come across in this issue are:

*”Strong headed feminists”
*Women afraid of being labeled a feminist
*People who think feminists are men bashers.

It’s very rarely that I come across someone who understands what it really means.

Well, what it’s really about is: CHOICE

Choice to live free of stigma,
Choice to lead the life we want,
Choice to have control over our own bodies,
Choice to be whoever we want to be.

Neither a housewife nor a stripper does anything wrong or bad for the “feminist movement”. It’s their choice and doesn’t mean that other women can’t become CEOs.

Women are the first to bring each other down, label each other. Slut, whore, gold digger, bobble head. We give the power to men to make us feel like a lesser sex. Oh us and organized religion, on that subject I can’t believe how any woman would believe in books where she’s as valuable as a piece of trash.

What some women don’t understand is a woman has the right to use her sexuality as much as she has the right to be a member of the congress.

Using our bodies don’t make us lesser women or lesser feminists.

A prostitute is not a lesser woman than a school teacher and a school teacher is not a lesser woman than any other. We -men and women- are equal. Life is equal.

If someone is happy with what they are doing then who are we to talk.

This is not feminism.

Feminism is claiming the right that women have the CHOICE to do anything any other human being does. We can do what we want to do, and be what we want to be. We have the right to be free and happy.

We are claiming our bodies, our identities and our freedom back.

So my friends, YES, I am a Feminist! This is what I’m fighting for.

Just saying that for me is such a big thing. I haven’t told anyone but my closest friends and family. Why have I been so ashamed of it… I really don’t know.

Everything started about a year and a half ago. I suddenly started gaining weight. It was understandable at the time because it was the time I dropped out of college and was not doing anything. So a few pounds were not that big of a deal, I would go back to school and shed them. By the end of 8 months I had gained about 55 lbs (25kg). I should tell you that I’m 5′5 (165cm) and was around 121 lbs (55kg). I would fluctuate between 116-123lbs (53-56kg). I was never tiny, but I was never fat (although I thought I was, but we’ll talk about that later). I was a voluptuous, beautiful girl (there I said it).

I had gotten extremely lazy, or that was what some said. I couldn’t get out of bed. I had no urge to do anything. I didn’t want to go out, I didn’t want to get up, I didn’t even want to have sex that much. I started feeling self conscious. Everyone kept telling me to get off my ass, I couldn’t, I just physically couldn’t get up off my ass.

I felt like I couldn’t look in the mirror, I hated the person I saw. I was now fat, therefor disgusting to society. People mocked fat girls online, my friends mocked fat girls in real life. So, I did what I did and shut off myself from my once very busy social life.

I think if hadn’t had a rock in my life, a man that loved me and accepted me no matter what I looked like, I would have gone insane. It was an endless circle of feeling tired, feeling sad, feeling angry, feeling disgusted.

We moved to San Francisco. I started feeling like I was in a stranger’s body. I started getting stretch marks. I would not recognize my arms or legs or stomach. I felt so sexy and beautiful inside that I would be startled when I looked in the mirror. I stopped looking at mirrors.

Probably 5 months into our friendship, a now ex friend, took me aside and said “look admit it, come to terms with it, your fat. I used to be fat when I was 11. I felt so much better when I lost the weight. You eat a lot, don’t lie. I want to see some change in your weight when I come back from my trip”. This broke my heart. I tried to explain that I did not eat that much. As a matter of fact I ate too little. This was the time I realized there was something wrong with me.

A month later she came to stay with us for a while. She was shocked to see I ate nearly nothing. I was rarely hungry. She asked me why I was so fat when I didn’t eat anything. I was pissed.

I was constantly sick. I had two horrible sinus infections back to back. I couldn’t get out of my bed for two months. When the infections ended, I still couldn’t get out of bed.

I was tired, I had insomnia, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I would wake up shivering every morning. I would vomit my guts out. I felt dizzy and cold. You couldn’t rip me out of bed with a crane. People started calling me lazy and fat.

At that time I was talking to a dear old friend who told me she was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I researched it and realized that I could have something similar to it.

I went to a doctor, told her how I felt. She checked my glands and said they looked normal. She was instantly aware that there was something wrong when I said I gained 55lbs in a year. I got blood tests done.

My blood test came back, and my TSH level was 6.606, where as the norm was 0.5-3.0. I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism. I felt relieved. It was not my fault, everything that happened was not my fault. The doctor started with a low dose.

It was a month before school ended. I was taking a design class. My teacher was a pompous bitch. I gave her doctor’s notes and explained what was going on. She told me, right to my face, that ok, I had a illness, but I was actually lazy and not committed to the class. I hated myself for going to that bitch’s class even when I was puking my guts out, crying on the floor not able to get up. She failed me with a D+, where C was a passing grade.

After hearing this, I started feeling like I was exaggerating, it wasn’t like I had AIDS, or I had Cancer. It could be worse. So I started thinking that I was sick, ok, but I was actually lazy and that it wasn’t the illness’ fault, it was my fault.

I got blood works done after a month and a half. I was still gaining weight, instead of loosing it. I still felt like shit every waking day. My blood works came back in the normal range, a 1.9. I went back to the doctor, only to get my dosage raised. I started feeling better the next day. The difference between 50MCG and 75MCG saved me. I still wake up a bit shaken but, I get up and go out side, I don’t vomit. My libido came back roaring. I even lost some weight. I FELT BETTER, I FELT HAPPY!

I still don’t eat that much. I actually forget to eat anything during the day and eat at night. Extremely unhealthy. I keep track of what I eat and fail to go over 2000 calories a day most weeks.

It’s been a little over a month since they upped my dosage and I’ve already lost 8 pounds (4kg). Let me also tell you a few things about hypothyroidism. You will not loose weight even though you eat barely nothing, you will constantly feel tired, you will have the blues -everyday, even if you go to the gym, you will not loose weight.

So to my actually point. I was 120lbs and I was a young, pretty girl. But I felt fat! I am ashamed. I look back and yearn for my so called fat days. What are they feeding our brains that a healthy young girl thinks she’s fat! What are they feeding our brains that we make fun of fat people, dismiss their emotions, tell them to stop stuffing their faces, tell them to get off their fat asses.

My dad and aunt used to make fun of me in my thinnest days, told me that no one would love me if I was fat, looking good was more important than feeling good, that I had to be careful or I’d be fat, they would tell me that they see young girls on the street and I oughta be like them. I know it sounds fucked up, but these are the lightest of the things I’ve heard.

We want everyone to be photoshop perfect. I had friends become anorexic, and some friends become obese. No matter what we do, if we’re 80lbs or 120lbs, 200lbs or 300lbs, we feel like shit! regardless of what the reality is. If it’s not our weight then it’s our nose, or boobs or ass, or freaking droopy eyelids.

I went through emotions I can’t even explain. I’ve revealed as much as I was comfortable with, so know that it wasn’t that much. I know that a lot of people won’t understand and will dismiss it. If you’re the one person out there who feels/felt like this. Know that you are not alone, and it’s not unimportant. The fact that you feel like shit is never not important. Embrace yourself, be happy, be healthy. Fuck the world.

I’m at the beginning of my treatment, which is a life long one. I have to take a purple little pill every morning so I can feel better. I have no complaints. I will grow stronger and better every day and after a while I’ll get over all this shit.

Hopefully my next post on the subject will be about hypothyroidism in popular culture. This is just a small glimpse into what I want to say.

Tmz reports that he had a cardiac arrest and was rushed to the hospital, where he passed away, at age 50.

I felt broken. I was sad. But not because he died. Because in my eyes an era had ended.

We twist and turn and break these child celebrities and rejoice in their misery.

I honestly believe he was a pedophile. I believe he harassed those kids. I can only hope that the news of his death might help them cope with their demons. I can only hope that their families were smart enough to get them help so they, one day will not turn into him.

Michael Jackson became a celebrity at such a young age. He was the son to an abusive father, who pushed him and his siblings to work like slaves.

A young boy, at 11, treated as a man, pushed into fame. He had to grow up but never could. He was left to live with Diana Ross, who he idolized, he was away from hi family, he was the moneymaker.

He never got to explore his sexuality, maybe he was gay. He was never given the option. He was never given the option to grow up.

We sat and we enjoyed it. We enjoyed that he dangled his son out of a hotel window out of frustration. And we would have enjoyed it more if he had dropped him.

We enjoyed that Britney Spears had a break down. We enjoyed that Lindsay Lohan turned into a drug addicted whore.

We feel better that these people we build up come crashing down.

It was not “Wacko Jacko” that harassed those kids, it was us. And the cycle goes on.

An era has ended, another Elvis bites the dust.

And we go on to wreck other lives for our enjoyment.

We have fun mocking him after he’s dead.

I do believe that this is final this time, he passed away. I hope his pain stopped and I hope many others are now peaceful.

He left us with great music.

I do not call for a moment of silence but a moment of humanity. Stop… think. Have a conscience. A person has passed away. A life has ended.

Last Sunday we took a trip to Sausolito, not because I particularly wanted to go there but because I wanted a ride on a ferry.

Te weather was beautiful, and.. it rarely is in San Francisco.

So we got onto the ferry and started our trip.
(beware it’s going to be a photostory post :)

Fisherman’s Warf:

On the Ferry:

What was actually going on:

My angelic man (who will go macho when he hears I called him that:) :

We really really love crabs:

Tiburon:

These houses rocked!

All in all it was a great trip. I constantly looked like this:

We’re now looking at houses in the area. I love visiting new cities, even though they’re actually 5 minutes away.

And finally leaving the north bay:

G’day everybody.

Also, check out my flickr account.