Thursday, April 30, 2015

My Pink Hair Story

Recently, I posted this on Instagram:

A friend wanted me to elaborate on it more and I can’t believe I haven’t posted about this yet. I really have been meaning to.

To start I’m going to tell you a story…

In high school (my senior year), I was trying to get a job. That year was the same year I decided to dye two pieces of my hair pink. (Below is the only good picture of then.)

So with getting the job, I applied to Mathnasium. The owner that I talked to was super positive about my interview and application. He told me every employee had to talk a math test, but he mostly said it was just a formality in my case.

I came back a few days later to take the simple test and that’s when I met his wife, who also owned the business with him. She came over and introduced herself and I stood up and shook her hand. Something in her body language or eyes suggested something about me bothered her, but I didn’t really think on it very much.

I turned in the test and the guy I originally talked to, told me they wanted me to come back in on Friday to fill out the paperwork. He said they would call me with the specific details.

A few days passed and Friday was right around the corner, but I hadn’t gotten a call. I called them up and talked to the guy who had always been nice to me. Immediately I knew something was off based on his tone. He proceeded to tell me I didn’t score high enough on the test and they were going to have to pass.

I hung up the phone and I knew his wife didn’t like me because of my pink hair. I could’ve taken that math test in my sleep and I noticed the way she had looked at me.

Never before had I felt so judged. In school I’d always been the smart girl. In that one look that woman gave me, I felt like I shouldn’t deserve to work anywhere. She looked down her nose at me like she was better than me.

This is the reason I wrote what I did on my Instagram post. I wished that I could choose to look any way I want (which for me, is pretty much experimenting with my hair color) and not be judged to be a druggie or irresponsible. I think it’s terrible that this form of judgement is socially acceptable in our society because the job market is consumed with it.

My hair has never been an indication of anything else but that I like pink and I like to express myself in ways that don’t require me to get up in front of people or that make me demand attention. I’ve always been the person that likes to be a bit different than others. I dislike following the crowd just because it’s the popular thing to do. I try to stand out without standing apart or completely alone. (If that makes any sense.)

Back to the point. I really wish I didn’t have to conform to standards that say I’m not hire-able when I have unnaturally colored hair. And, I totally understand how these standards came about, but colored hair is getting more popular with people who are responsible and hard workers. My pink hair doesn’t define my personality, my personality defines my pink hair.

People get so wrapped up in first impressions and how they think people will be, that they miss out on getting to know so many great people. I’ll easily admit that I have definitely fallen into this category and later developed great friendships with people who I thought I wouldn’t like because I judged them.

However, even in writing all this, I’ll still have to give up my pink hair to “join the real world.” It makes me sad, but it’s just how things are.

Monday, April 27, 2015

When One Harmless Episode Turns Deadly

If you didn’t read my post yesterday, then please stop now and read it.

No, seriously. Read it before this one.

Now that you have background to what I’m talking about, continue reading…

Putting all silliness aside, I really debated, for about a week now, if I was actually going to post what I did yesterday. I’ve come to realize that my writing is the most honest expression of me and sometimes it reveals more of me than I want it to. Yesterday’s post was one of those instances.

I finally decided to post it because I’ve come to realize that I am really struggling with an addiction to TV. It all started out with a desire to decompress from my busy schedule, but in a way that didn’t require any thought. I would get the stories I love (by that, I mean that I love stories and taking the adventure through each one), but I wouldn’t have to use any mental energy. Then the addiction crept in.

I don’t mean this to sound sinister or like TV is ruining my life, but it’s gotten to the point where I would spend hours watching TV and even skipping small homework assignments or just putting them off to the point where they don’t have the time to be more than junk.

Watching TV fueled my procrastination even more, which just let to even greater amounts of stress. That stress would lead to crippling guilt that I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to. That guilt would lead to more TV as an escape, which would only make matters even worse.

This addiction isn’t the all-consuming kind, but if I don’t get away from TV or moderate how much time I am spending watching it, then I feel myself prioritizing it. When a behavior starts becoming a priority when it shouldn’t and when it is affecting your ability to keep up with responsibilities, then it’s borderline addiction that should be stopped.

So, I finally decided to write these two posts because I think there is a big problem today with binge watching TV. Everywhere in college, there are jokes going around about how, “Netflix killed my GPA.” Or, how students are watching TV verses doing homework or going to class. We all joke about it because everybody is binge watching something.

I can’t be the only one going through something like this, not when the college culture is so saturated with these jokes or comments.

I wish our culture didn’t push so hard for entertainment, especially movies and TV, to be as much of a priority as it does. This just reminds me of one thing that the speaker at Winter Camp said, “You can’t combat 20 hours of TV with a 30 minute sermon.”

With watching so much TV, I just fill my mind with more and more that isn’t good for me. I’m so saturated in the worldly culture that is presented for me in all those very entertaining shows, but I never stop to think what it is doing to me.

Taking it a step further, what’s it say when I’m addicted to it?

The worst thing about being addicted to a substance that is non-lethal and safe is that it’s socially acceptable to do it. Some people might think I’m crazy for talking about an addiction to TV, especially when most of the US has some quantity of this addiction.

I’m really not saying TV is this terrible thing. I love it and that’s why I sometimes can’t stop myself from falling into the binge-watch cycle. I definitely don’t want to quit watching TV completely and I honestly probably still will watch it to a degree, but I’m starting to monitor how much I am consuming.

All in all, I just think we need to be conscious of those seemingly harmless things in our lives that turn into big seething monsters when we aren’t looking. We need to not let anything consume us or take control of our minds (except God).

With this post, all I ask is that you take a look at your life and try to see if you have anything that is consuming you when it shouldn’t be. Make changes. Take baby steps. Work through it, even if you don’t originally recognize it as a problem.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

One Harmless Episode

One harmless episode, you say to yourself. Just one. It can’t hurt anything.

You click play and forget your life for that brief forty-five minutes. You forget about the demanding deadlines that nag at the back of your mind. You let go of your worries about keeping up with responsibilities. You relax for what feels like the first time in forever.

Then the episode ends. You have to know what’s next, but dare you also just want to escape for another too small swatch of time? Dare you quiet the drowning stress with the numbing effect of another world? Dare you push away all the unpleasant feelings for one more hit of this safe drug?

Your finger hovers over clicking that beautiful button that leads to excitement. Conflict rages in your stomach, making you feel ill. Sweat breaks out and anxiety is tickling at the edges of your mind.

You know you should stop. You know you don’t have time for this. You know this will lead to your failure. You know people are counting on you. You know you’ll never get out if you go again.

But you press it anyways.

You push all your raging thoughts aside and tunnel into this other world with characters that are leading amazing lives. You travel on grand adventures and become the hero. You solve crimes and save lives. You fall in love and make mistakes that end in heartbreak. You have abilities that aren’t physically possible and you make the most of them. You do all this without having ever done anything.

Then it’s over again and everything comes crashing down on you. Deadlines are minutes away. Time is running out. Life is living without you.

So you go back to the haven that you think is your refuge, but it’s just a hole you’ve dug yourself into. You know what you’re doing, but you can’t stop. It feels safer in there.

You burry yourself alive, but you keep up with the delusion that you’re only doing it for the show. You make yourself believe that the story is what matters. You have to know how it ends.

The cycle continues until you have to emerge from this place that you’ve become accustomed to. Things you can’t get out of force you to come up for oxygen, but it’s a hard climb to the top when this hole you’ve been living in has just gotten deeper with each passing minute.

When you finally get back to life and fall into the routine, you finally remember what actual breathing feels like. You taste freedom from the debilitating load of procrastination and you come alive.

But the temptation to fall in love with another story is just too much and you start an episode with the deranged mantra that you’ll be able to stop after just one this time. You fall right back into that hole, but with arms spread wide, fully embracing it. You tumble with eye wide open and almost enjoy the plunge.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Inspiration vs. Iteration

Many weeks ago in one of my classes, we were talking about creativity. One person stated that they believed everything has already been done. The whole class seemed to agree to this.

That statement bothered me. I don’t believe everything has been done already and to get into that, I think you have to differentiate between inspiration and iteration.

Inspiration is an influence. Iteration is a copy.

I will concede that every creative endeavor is inspired by something, but just because one thing led to the spark that ignited something new doesn’t mean that the new creation is a copy. People are all unique and add their own experiences, beliefs, and personalities to their creation, which makes those things new.

I couldn’t write a novel in the exact same way another would because we each have our own voice (that’s avoiding the case if I’m actually forcing myself to sound like a specific author because that isn’t trying to make a new creation, that’s just copying). The pictures I take are different than others because of my perspective or what I find to be pleasing to the eye. Taking that a step further, with editing pictures, I’ll fix up the image until I think it looks good, which layers pieces of my personality into it.

If everything had been done already, then how could we keep creating?

I can see where this argument is coming from when, for example, most chick flicks seem to follow the same formula. This definitely can blur the line between inspiration and iteration, but each of those movies can be as different as they are the same. Different actors, directors, and writers breathe life into the stories in different ways. All the stories have different characters and plots that they have become new creations.

The world would be so boring if everything had truly been done already.