Danielle's blog

God Only Knows Why

But I'm reluctant to let these shitty little entries die Vox's death. So now I have a typepad blog with an ugly ass theme. Fabulous. Will I use it more? Probably not. Should I? Probably. Go Bears.

Special Where Are They Now Edition

Today, March 28th 2010 in the wee hours of the morning, Josh did me the great service of showing me his vox covering 2007-2008, which of course prompted me to read my own from the same time period.

It wasn't that long ago at all, but it feels a lifetime away. Reading it was enlightening and humbling. It reads kind of like a princess Lewis Black eager to show off her awesomeness. Not a flattering picture of myself, but I guess a more or less accurate one. Healthy exercise to go back and check it out.

This entry isn't for anybody out there (who even uses vox any more?) but for the bitter young woman with the potty mouth who wrote the rest of the blog--from a slightly less-bitter though equally potty mouthed young woman hoping to lift her up, as an act of atonement for the rest of the crappy blog. WHOA TIME SHIFT.

It's not that everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, but that everything improved. Most of the plans I set forth in this blog didn't, in fact come to fruition, and from their corpses grow the beautiful flowers of a mixed up metaphor. I mean better things.

I didn't get out to San Marcos later that year, I stayed in Hollister longer than I anticipated or wanted. But instead I wound up at UC Berkeley, a school I never even fantasized about attending because she was a 10 and I'm like a 3 after a few drinks, and I'm living a few blocks from the ocean with my wonderful boyfriend--watching Fraggle Rock in a big comfy bed with him snoring right next to us just at the moment. I gots problems, don't you worry past-Danielle, there's no shortage of neurosis and TRAGEDYOMGZ in your future, but I am a happier person, doing things we never thought we'd really get to do.

When I wrote the most of these entries getting my future nailed down seemed like the most important thing in the world. I got a tiny little tab of it worked out, but the rest is more terrifyingly, liberatingly, awesomely expansive than either of us ever dreamed. I have no idea what it will bring. I am trying to lose less sleep over what it will look like. I am working very, very hard, to enjoy this moment for what it is.

What I'm trying to say, past-Danielle, is good work soldier. Your crazy ass made it through and what you did was valuable. At ease.

I'm going to finish watching this episode of Fraggle Rock and then go to sleep in the arms of my wonderful boyfriend. Then I'm going to wake up, do laundry, clean the kitchen, apply for a fellowship program at school, play some Mass Effect 2 and get ready to tackle the rest of the semester. Next weekend I hope to visit the zoo. Not too shabby.

Fraggle Rock is a fabulous show.

Yay me

Created By TheirToys Sex Toys

Junk Day

Are you ever struck by the idea that you have nothing whatsoever to contribute to society?

That there is no spark in your mind nor fire in your soul, nothing your hands can do that a million other hands cannot, that your very chromosomes are so bland and generic as to be not worth passing on?

Oh. Well I do.

I mean look at me. I'm 21. In human years, that's prime life right there. That's living time. People my age are supposed to be grabbing the torch, by force if necessary, from the previous generation, dreaming up big beautiful dreams and planting them in fertile American soil and climbing up to the top of their big beautiful dream tree so that everyone will see and hear and  the world will be changed.

So what do I have to show for myself?

A cabinet full of video games, many of them un-played. A room full of fake oriental knick-knacks I don't own or want. So many extra pounds on my fat ass I might as well be genderless.

I have some nice grades to my name. That's nice. Grades earned among recovering gang members and recovering teen moms and recovering soldiers and recovering housewives and recovering drop-outs and recovering farm workers and recovering battered women. Almost everyone in my classes is running from or resting from something traumatic. The rest were too goddamn lazy and entitled to do anything worth anything that might risk trauma. It's like a little incubator room from adulthood. I'm sure I fall squarely in the latter group. My point is, my grades don't mean much at all.

My point is, I'm a goddamn English major who {that(who)} can't write. Except vox posts. Which isn't writing. It's narcissism. My point is my head is full of useless facts and theories and but not the aptitude enough to apply any of them to anything. My point is, "I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint."

See that shit right there? That was angst, son. Of the C+ variety.

I have lived in this town for thirteen of my twenty-one years. An easy majority. I am afraid that I am going to stay here, develop alcoholism here, spit out fat little babies here. I am beyond afraid that I am going to die here.

What if you planted your dream seed and you got a potato instead of a tree?

Potty Party!

Yipee!

My attempt to get rid of the exploded confetti eggs in my purse. The bad news: I pretty much failed. The good: Gav now has an exceedingly festive toilet.

EDIT: I realize this makes two potty posts in less than a week. How very Freudian of me.

Vox Hunt: Photo Thursday

Show us the very last picture you took. No cheating!

We Are Prod of 2008!

Go Gavilan College parking lot.

At least it looks like someone tried to smear in a "u" with dirt.

Sociology Quote of the Day!

Ahem:

"In the most intelligent races, as among the Parisians, there are a large number of women whose brains are closer in size to those of gorillas than to the most developed of male brains... All psychologists who have studied the intelligence of women... recognize today that they represent the most inferior forms of human evolution and that they are closer to children and savages than to an adult civilized man. They excel in fickleness, inconstancy, absence of thought and logic, and incapacity to reason. Without a doubt, there exist some distinguished women, very superior to the average man, but they are as exceptional as the birth of any monstrosity, as, for example, of a gorilla with two heads."
                                  --Gustav LeBon, 1879

Thank you Social Darwinism!

Why I Am a Feminist

Had to answer that question for sociology. Here's what I came up with. Kinda lame but seemed like a bloggish kind of thing. Which probably means I shouldn't turn it in. Oh Well. Oh god im so tired please kill me.

I absolutely consider myself a feminist. I feel as though it would be shooting myself in the foot not to. I am a feminist because I am firmly convinced of my humanity. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am just as capable, as clever, as fragile, and as worthy of respect as any of my male counterparts, and I refuse to settle for anything less. Nor will I settle for less for women in my family, for my gay friends and friends of color, or for the women living around the world in oppressive societies I can not begin to imagine coping with.

    I am a feminist because I know that I am more than the sum of my private parts.  Because I love kicking my boyfriend's ass at Mario Kart and hate Bratz Dolls. Because I have ambition and drive and refuse to be constrained by the lifestyle Desperate Housewives is so desperate to sell me. I'm a feminist because I can look around and understand that the world has been run been run by men for the last 2,000 years, and I don't particularly like what they've done with the place, so maybe I'll lend them a hand. I am a feminist because I'll be damned if my little brother or God forbid my future son grows up to believe he can exert his will over another simply by virtue of his sex. And I would sooner die– literally rather die– than live in a world where a pastor I've never met can determine what I'm allowed to do with my body. Feminism was never even a choice for me, it was just a development of things I've known to be true since I was a little girl, and my experiences as I've grown have only served to further cement those beliefs.

QotD: Random Acts of Kindness

What was your random act of kindness today?
Submitted by Cher Cabula.

I chased a little old man so I could give him my grocery cart so he wouldn't have to wrestle with the jammed ones.

A little creepy of me.

Well

That didn't happen.

Scary pee time

At Glenview Elementary School the teachers have to pee in a plywood closet. I am so not even kidding.

Little kids are cute, but I'm glad my time with them is over. I really think I am more suited to older kids.

I guess it's good though because now I appreciate my junior high students more. Aww.