You know, when I think about it, I haven't done anything (except sleep and read--found some new and totally awesome authors!) the past week. Now I have less than a week to review for the exams.
Someone shoot me now.
This week is going to be crazy. I'll probably be studying 12 hours a day, just to catch up. And I still have 5 physics labs to finish by the end of the Holidays.
But, you know what, if I finish studying early, I can do something resourceful in my own time--something that won't simply waste time--like crafts, or applying for a job. I have this wooden box that I put my coin collection in, but I have yet to paint it. It was something I was going to do over the Holidays, but more than a week's done, and I still haven't started.
I just need to start studying, and then I'll have the free time to do a lot of things.
Monday 27 December 2010
Shopping
God, my feet hurt.
Yesterday, I went shopping (it was Boxing Day) to get all the stuff that I needed, and it took FOREVER. The mall was completely packed, with everyone rushing here and there.
But, god, I feel so good now. I have everything I need, and I don't need to go back to some store for more stuff. Just the thought of it makes my feet scream.
I got a bunch of new sweaters and long-sleeved shirts, four jeans, two strapless bras, two pajama sets, three games for my PSP, two books, a few undershirts (without lace, for once), some headbands, bracelets, necklaces, scarves, and... yeah. I have new clothes! I feel like shouting it out to the world. It's been forever since I completely blew more than $100 on clothes.
And the best part is, I got my semi-formal dress!! It's so pretty, and completely black. I would wear it for prom, but apparently it's not--to use my sister's phrase--fancy, or expensive enough.
I'm so cheap, but I'm glad I didn't spend over $250. It was very close though. I can't wait to show off my new clothes.
Shopping takes forever. I remember waking up early in the morning and going at 10 am, and then coming home at 10 pm. Twelve hours--walking. No wonder my feet feel like crying.
But it was totally worth it.
Yesterday, I went shopping (it was Boxing Day) to get all the stuff that I needed, and it took FOREVER. The mall was completely packed, with everyone rushing here and there.
But, god, I feel so good now. I have everything I need, and I don't need to go back to some store for more stuff. Just the thought of it makes my feet scream.
I got a bunch of new sweaters and long-sleeved shirts, four jeans, two strapless bras, two pajama sets, three games for my PSP, two books, a few undershirts (without lace, for once), some headbands, bracelets, necklaces, scarves, and... yeah. I have new clothes! I feel like shouting it out to the world. It's been forever since I completely blew more than $100 on clothes.
And the best part is, I got my semi-formal dress!! It's so pretty, and completely black. I would wear it for prom, but apparently it's not--to use my sister's phrase--fancy, or expensive enough.
I'm so cheap, but I'm glad I didn't spend over $250. It was very close though. I can't wait to show off my new clothes.
Shopping takes forever. I remember waking up early in the morning and going at 10 am, and then coming home at 10 pm. Twelve hours--walking. No wonder my feet feel like crying.
But it was totally worth it.
Thursday 9 December 2010
Skipping
So... yeah. I'm skipping chemistry... again. It's not like the other times I've skipped, though, when I was in grade 10 or 11. That was just impulse. This required heavy decision making on my part. Weighing the pros and the cons. And my avoidance issues playing a heavy part on the pro's of why I shouldn't go to class.
See, I have this major project due today and I didn't even start. I swore to myself that I would start yesterday and stay up all night finishing it. Turns out I can't even do that. I fell asleep at 11:30. Frickin' ELEVEN THIRTY. It couldn't even be AT LEAST 2:00 am. I'm not even capable of staying up until 12.
I swear, I'm so tired everyday. I don't know why, but all I want to do when I come home at 6 is go to sleep. And I don't even like sleep. Actually, now I despise it even more than I did before. It wastes time, and gets in the way of me doing my work (this is me trying to blame anything but myself).
All I can see in the future is this downward spiral that results in me losing everything, getting kicked out, and working full-time at McDonald's. Maybe THEN I'll learn that you need to work hard in life, or you're screwed. But by then it'll be too late.
This is sad. Just plain SAD. Chemistry is the easiest course I have this semester, and I'm screwing it up more than any other course. Maybe I have this sub-conscious habit that, whenever something's easy, I don't even try. I would say I'm doing better in physics than I am in chemistry, because I'm working harder, but I'm not. To both (working harder in physics and doing better). I'm doing better in math (A.K.A. Functions) than I am in chemistry, but that's because I had to fail a few tests for the reality check to happen.
The way this is going, I'm going to have to repeat all my courses this semester. And that's worse than sad.
I wish I could say, like my friend, that fighting gets out all the tension that's been building up inside of me, but it doesn't. It just creates more tension, and ends up in me being more miserable than ever. Whenever I fight with my sister or my brother, the topic of me doing badly in school comes up, with them being the shining example of actually doing their homework, and me never winning the fight afterwards. And then snarky comments ensue after the fight, such as, "At least I do my homework." or "Why am I even talking to you? You don't even do your homework."
Yeah, they're not helping the situation. Because after the fight, rebellious teen that I am, I don't even consider listening to them. Instead, out of pure spite, I decide not to do my homework... for an hour (self-delusion; I'm usually asleep in an hour). This is a classic example of me cutting off my nose to spite my face.
The difference between a full-on fight, and the fight that I have with my sister is that, with a full-on fight, everyone's finished with each other afterwards, and the negative feelings have dissipated. With my sister, however, when she wins the fight (because she always does), she keeps on pushing it in my face. "Yeah, I'm better than you because I do my homework. Because I have better fashion taste. Because I actually do my chores. Because I have to act like the older sibling, even though I'm not..." And it goes on and on. God, I just really hate her competitive streak. It's so fucking annoying. I don't give a shit that you do all that stuff. Just leave me the fuck alone!
And I have to share a room with her, so it's not like I can kick her out of my room.
I just wish I had this room where I could close off everyone, and then maybe I would do something. I need a lock.
Okay. Today's the day when I can catch up. I'll just hand in the project and accept late marks. I'll finish the physics labs that were due more than a month ago, and the ten-page ISU due Monday. I'll finish all my chapter work, and start on my english essay.
[Notice I say this to myself everyday].
See, I have this major project due today and I didn't even start. I swore to myself that I would start yesterday and stay up all night finishing it. Turns out I can't even do that. I fell asleep at 11:30. Frickin' ELEVEN THIRTY. It couldn't even be AT LEAST 2:00 am. I'm not even capable of staying up until 12.
I swear, I'm so tired everyday. I don't know why, but all I want to do when I come home at 6 is go to sleep. And I don't even like sleep. Actually, now I despise it even more than I did before. It wastes time, and gets in the way of me doing my work (this is me trying to blame anything but myself).
All I can see in the future is this downward spiral that results in me losing everything, getting kicked out, and working full-time at McDonald's. Maybe THEN I'll learn that you need to work hard in life, or you're screwed. But by then it'll be too late.
This is sad. Just plain SAD. Chemistry is the easiest course I have this semester, and I'm screwing it up more than any other course. Maybe I have this sub-conscious habit that, whenever something's easy, I don't even try. I would say I'm doing better in physics than I am in chemistry, because I'm working harder, but I'm not. To both (working harder in physics and doing better). I'm doing better in math (A.K.A. Functions) than I am in chemistry, but that's because I had to fail a few tests for the reality check to happen.
The way this is going, I'm going to have to repeat all my courses this semester. And that's worse than sad.
I wish I could say, like my friend, that fighting gets out all the tension that's been building up inside of me, but it doesn't. It just creates more tension, and ends up in me being more miserable than ever. Whenever I fight with my sister or my brother, the topic of me doing badly in school comes up, with them being the shining example of actually doing their homework, and me never winning the fight afterwards. And then snarky comments ensue after the fight, such as, "At least I do my homework." or "Why am I even talking to you? You don't even do your homework."
Yeah, they're not helping the situation. Because after the fight, rebellious teen that I am, I don't even consider listening to them. Instead, out of pure spite, I decide not to do my homework... for an hour (self-delusion; I'm usually asleep in an hour). This is a classic example of me cutting off my nose to spite my face.
The difference between a full-on fight, and the fight that I have with my sister is that, with a full-on fight, everyone's finished with each other afterwards, and the negative feelings have dissipated. With my sister, however, when she wins the fight (because she always does), she keeps on pushing it in my face. "Yeah, I'm better than you because I do my homework. Because I have better fashion taste. Because I actually do my chores. Because I have to act like the older sibling, even though I'm not..." And it goes on and on. God, I just really hate her competitive streak. It's so fucking annoying. I don't give a shit that you do all that stuff. Just leave me the fuck alone!
And I have to share a room with her, so it's not like I can kick her out of my room.
I just wish I had this room where I could close off everyone, and then maybe I would do something. I need a lock.
Okay. Today's the day when I can catch up. I'll just hand in the project and accept late marks. I'll finish the physics labs that were due more than a month ago, and the ten-page ISU due Monday. I'll finish all my chapter work, and start on my english essay.
[Notice I say this to myself everyday].
Monday 6 December 2010
Procrastination
This is about a really bad habit of mine. I am a procrastinator.
They say the first step in getting rid of a bad habit is acknowledging it. I've "acknowledged" it since I was in grade 7. It still hasn't gone away. In fact, it's actually gotten worse. So much so to the point that my entire family feels that I need a good kick to get things going.
I used to get really great marks in school, the kind of marks that made everyone think I was one of the smartest in the school. But that was when I was a kid, when the lessons about always doing more than my best on my homework and studying extra before a test were ingrained so deeply into my mind that I didn't even notice it was there. I thought it was natural. But even then, I was chafing against it. (Best word I could use.)
Grade seven was when I finally realized how those habits controlled my life. I was basically a loner, with no social life whatsoever and one measly best friend that I didn't even really like all that much (though I never said it to her face--she was really nice to me). But that was fine. I had my siblings to keep me company (even though they had their own friends to hang out with). The year before, I had won the Academic Award. It was a great accomplishment, and I worked my ass off for it, always asking the teacher how I could improve and such. But, what now? After I had won it, everyone treated me differently. No longer was I the quiet, invisible girl that people never even noticed. I was the person everyone wanted to copy off, while they called me "nerd" to my face. I hated it. Truth was, I loved being a loner. No one annoying bothered me and I was left to my own daydreams. (I wonder if that's what my friends mean when they say I'm out of it sometimes.)
Then I moved to a different school, and no one knew me anymore. I was invisible once again. It was a different sort of school, with a lot more smarter people. I remember getting my first test back and how shocked I was at the low grade. I don't know what happened to me, but I think that was when I stopped caring. After all, I had won the Academic Award, and what had that gotten me? What was the point?
And that's when my bad habit, procrastination, striked. It was creeping up on me the past few years, but my ingrained good habits kept it at bay. No longer. Singlehandedly, I destroyed those good habits that kept me afloat when I stopped caring. I started staying up late to finish last-minute projects, and being satisfied with a C+ (my younger self would have been horrified).
Grade 9 year in high school only helped sink its talons in deeper. I wonder, if it would have been at least a little difficult, I might've tried. Instead, I never did my homework, and I got A's and A+'s on my tests (probably leftover from my good years). I found friends who I actually like and could connect with. But, even now, it's difficult to fully contact someone and speak with them without a filter. Without someone there to step in when I have nothing to say. Perhaps that's why I still hesitate to call those I haven't seen in weeks.
Now I'm in my last year at high school, and I still haven't gotten rid of these procrastination habits that just come naturally now. My guidance councillor says I have avoidance issues. I know I do. Even now, I'm avoiding finishing my chemistry and physics homework by writing this blog. I'm close to failing all my courses and I don't know if I can get it together in time.
The only thing to do now is try. God, I hope it isn't too late.
They say the first step in getting rid of a bad habit is acknowledging it. I've "acknowledged" it since I was in grade 7. It still hasn't gone away. In fact, it's actually gotten worse. So much so to the point that my entire family feels that I need a good kick to get things going.
I used to get really great marks in school, the kind of marks that made everyone think I was one of the smartest in the school. But that was when I was a kid, when the lessons about always doing more than my best on my homework and studying extra before a test were ingrained so deeply into my mind that I didn't even notice it was there. I thought it was natural. But even then, I was chafing against it. (Best word I could use.)
Grade seven was when I finally realized how those habits controlled my life. I was basically a loner, with no social life whatsoever and one measly best friend that I didn't even really like all that much (though I never said it to her face--she was really nice to me). But that was fine. I had my siblings to keep me company (even though they had their own friends to hang out with). The year before, I had won the Academic Award. It was a great accomplishment, and I worked my ass off for it, always asking the teacher how I could improve and such. But, what now? After I had won it, everyone treated me differently. No longer was I the quiet, invisible girl that people never even noticed. I was the person everyone wanted to copy off, while they called me "nerd" to my face. I hated it. Truth was, I loved being a loner. No one annoying bothered me and I was left to my own daydreams. (I wonder if that's what my friends mean when they say I'm out of it sometimes.)
Then I moved to a different school, and no one knew me anymore. I was invisible once again. It was a different sort of school, with a lot more smarter people. I remember getting my first test back and how shocked I was at the low grade. I don't know what happened to me, but I think that was when I stopped caring. After all, I had won the Academic Award, and what had that gotten me? What was the point?
And that's when my bad habit, procrastination, striked. It was creeping up on me the past few years, but my ingrained good habits kept it at bay. No longer. Singlehandedly, I destroyed those good habits that kept me afloat when I stopped caring. I started staying up late to finish last-minute projects, and being satisfied with a C+ (my younger self would have been horrified).
Grade 9 year in high school only helped sink its talons in deeper. I wonder, if it would have been at least a little difficult, I might've tried. Instead, I never did my homework, and I got A's and A+'s on my tests (probably leftover from my good years). I found friends who I actually like and could connect with. But, even now, it's difficult to fully contact someone and speak with them without a filter. Without someone there to step in when I have nothing to say. Perhaps that's why I still hesitate to call those I haven't seen in weeks.
Now I'm in my last year at high school, and I still haven't gotten rid of these procrastination habits that just come naturally now. My guidance councillor says I have avoidance issues. I know I do. Even now, I'm avoiding finishing my chemistry and physics homework by writing this blog. I'm close to failing all my courses and I don't know if I can get it together in time.
The only thing to do now is try. God, I hope it isn't too late.
Monday 15 November 2010
The Night
Have you ever noticed?
The night has a beauty that the day can never have. I realized this as I was walking home. I mean, the sky was cloudy, but, as I looked up, the moon was glowing bright in the night. Perhaps it's merely the glow of the city lights that make me say this (city girl that I am), but, honestly, the darkness doesn't frighten me. It's beautiful and enchanting in its own way.
I mean, I've been to areas where there aren't any streetlights, and there's only the glow of the moon to help you navigate (no stars because of light pollution) and, although it is very intimidating and frightening, it's not because of the darkness. It's because of what the darkness causes. People are the real monsters, and the darkness is just a chance for their true selves to come out without fear of anyone recognizing them, and, consequently, without fear of punishment.
The darkness will always be there--it's a part of nature. But it's not bad, or evil. It simply is. And, in its own way, it has a very abstract type of beauty, with shades of grey here and there in my grainy vision and a far off light glowing intensely against the dark. When everything around you is in shades of dark blue or dark green, or pure unrelieved black, it creates a very fascinating environment.
I was recently in this area where all the streetlights were very far away, yet still managed to somewhat light up my path, and there were plants and tall grass going up as far as my shoulders. Naturally, I was on a mud path that had cleared up most of the plants in its way, and, as I looked around, it was awe-inspiring. There were so many different shades of darkness, and, honestly, for a second, I just stood there, looking around, before hightailing it out of there. I mean, seriously, there were plants taller than me. Who knew what kind of pervert could be hiding behind them?
Everyone has a fascination with the night, even though some wouldn't like to admit it. Why else are there such things as night clubs and bars? In the day, everyone just goes to work, and the night's when it's really time to have fun.
In my estimation, the day doesn't compare with the night. I imagine the day as this happy-go-lucky golden retriever puppy that's cute, and heartwarming, but not really all that interesting. The night, on the other hand, is this black jaguar that's beautiful and fascinating, but come into too often contact with it, can be deadly.
Maybe it's just me. My friends say I'm fascinated by the simplest of things, but how can I not be? To borrow Sarah McLachlan's phrase, everyday is an ordinary miracle.
When I was walking home today, I was scared, but I was also awed at the difference between the night and the day.
Despite how many friends I have, I'm not much of a social person. I don't naturally like to hang around a bunch of people all the time. My friends are a wholly different scenario. Even so, I like to have my share of "alone time," which, for me, is as necessary as breathing. What I like about the night is that it has a far less number of people walking around than in the daytime. I can simply do whatever I wish when I'm walking home, and no one will be there to complain. Usually, I just belt out (off-key) the lyrics of whatever song I'm listening to on my mp3 player.
That's what I love about the night.
Its beauty, its simplicity, and the fact that no one's there to make you feel embarrassed.
The night has a beauty that the day can never have. I realized this as I was walking home. I mean, the sky was cloudy, but, as I looked up, the moon was glowing bright in the night. Perhaps it's merely the glow of the city lights that make me say this (city girl that I am), but, honestly, the darkness doesn't frighten me. It's beautiful and enchanting in its own way.
I mean, I've been to areas where there aren't any streetlights, and there's only the glow of the moon to help you navigate (no stars because of light pollution) and, although it is very intimidating and frightening, it's not because of the darkness. It's because of what the darkness causes. People are the real monsters, and the darkness is just a chance for their true selves to come out without fear of anyone recognizing them, and, consequently, without fear of punishment.
The darkness will always be there--it's a part of nature. But it's not bad, or evil. It simply is. And, in its own way, it has a very abstract type of beauty, with shades of grey here and there in my grainy vision and a far off light glowing intensely against the dark. When everything around you is in shades of dark blue or dark green, or pure unrelieved black, it creates a very fascinating environment.
I was recently in this area where all the streetlights were very far away, yet still managed to somewhat light up my path, and there were plants and tall grass going up as far as my shoulders. Naturally, I was on a mud path that had cleared up most of the plants in its way, and, as I looked around, it was awe-inspiring. There were so many different shades of darkness, and, honestly, for a second, I just stood there, looking around, before hightailing it out of there. I mean, seriously, there were plants taller than me. Who knew what kind of pervert could be hiding behind them?
Everyone has a fascination with the night, even though some wouldn't like to admit it. Why else are there such things as night clubs and bars? In the day, everyone just goes to work, and the night's when it's really time to have fun.
In my estimation, the day doesn't compare with the night. I imagine the day as this happy-go-lucky golden retriever puppy that's cute, and heartwarming, but not really all that interesting. The night, on the other hand, is this black jaguar that's beautiful and fascinating, but come into too often contact with it, can be deadly.
Maybe it's just me. My friends say I'm fascinated by the simplest of things, but how can I not be? To borrow Sarah McLachlan's phrase, everyday is an ordinary miracle.
When I was walking home today, I was scared, but I was also awed at the difference between the night and the day.
Despite how many friends I have, I'm not much of a social person. I don't naturally like to hang around a bunch of people all the time. My friends are a wholly different scenario. Even so, I like to have my share of "alone time," which, for me, is as necessary as breathing. What I like about the night is that it has a far less number of people walking around than in the daytime. I can simply do whatever I wish when I'm walking home, and no one will be there to complain. Usually, I just belt out (off-key) the lyrics of whatever song I'm listening to on my mp3 player.
That's what I love about the night.
Its beauty, its simplicity, and the fact that no one's there to make you feel embarrassed.
Wednesday 3 November 2010
The Crappy Day
I know. We all get them. Today was just one of the worst. And it was all my fault. I don't know what happened to me today. I just... I don't know.
My friends called it a total breakdown. You know, just one of those things. I think I even went a little hysterical on them for a bit. Thankfully, chocolate slowed me down, even though it may have made me a teensy bit high-strung. You can always count on chocolate to save the day.
I confess, I skipped the entire day. First period, I stood up a friend and a group member who had to present the entire thing by herself, and the other two periods, I probably missed a lab or two (Murphy's Law, much?). I mean, I skipped physics!! I told myself I wasn't going to do that anymore, because skipping even one day of physics is like putting yourself so far behind the class even more than you already are. I should know where this path leads. I fucked up last year, and it was the first time I had to go to summer school--which was such a complete nightmare that I told myself I would never willingly go to summer school again.
My friends told me I had it coming. I mean, I have English, Chemistry, Physics, and Functions in one semester. I'm not Asian. Sometimes I need a break from all this shit. And today I just had to fuck up. Today, when I had a frickin' Functions Test (I once studied for one of them, and I got a 65%!) that I didn't even study for. I don't even know what the fuck the teacher was talking about this past week--how the hell was I going to even get a 30% on the frickin' test? At least, that was my justification when I skipped it. Now I just feel like I'm postponing my doom.
I should've prepared for this eventuality. I thought I could go Asian, and work hard this semester. What a laughable concept. I haven't worked hard since two years ago. I stopped caring two years ago. And now, what the hell am I going to do? Sometimes I just feel like giving up, and going for a repeat year. But if I don't work hard this year, how will I next year?
I've tried to make myself care. I really have. I've looked at people who've dropped out and are working part-time jobs now, and seen how miserable they are now, but... I don't care. I've seen those who work twelve-hour shifts just to scrape by, and I still just fuck up. I've even done a twelve-hour shift, standing the entire fucking time. Granted, it was only for a day, but I still can't bring myself to care. What's wrong with me??
It's funny. I do care, but not about school. I care that I don't care about school. Does that make sense?
Maybe tomorrow, I'll read all this as melodramatic bullshit, and get on with life. With physics. And math. And chemistry and english. Most of the time I just want to rip out the pages of the physics textbook and drop the husk in a nearby river. Maybe even make a hat or two (origami is awesome!). But, other times, very occasionally, I just want to cover it in bronze and stand it up, just because of the fact that I can understand so much now. The world is so cool from a mathematical perspective. Sometimes, I'm amazed I can understand it, and other times I'm so fucking frustrated at its twisted logic.
You know what, direct proportionality and inverse proportionality can go fuck themselves.
My friends called it a total breakdown. You know, just one of those things. I think I even went a little hysterical on them for a bit. Thankfully, chocolate slowed me down, even though it may have made me a teensy bit high-strung. You can always count on chocolate to save the day.
I confess, I skipped the entire day. First period, I stood up a friend and a group member who had to present the entire thing by herself, and the other two periods, I probably missed a lab or two (Murphy's Law, much?). I mean, I skipped physics!! I told myself I wasn't going to do that anymore, because skipping even one day of physics is like putting yourself so far behind the class even more than you already are. I should know where this path leads. I fucked up last year, and it was the first time I had to go to summer school--which was such a complete nightmare that I told myself I would never willingly go to summer school again.
My friends told me I had it coming. I mean, I have English, Chemistry, Physics, and Functions in one semester. I'm not Asian. Sometimes I need a break from all this shit. And today I just had to fuck up. Today, when I had a frickin' Functions Test (I once studied for one of them, and I got a 65%!) that I didn't even study for. I don't even know what the fuck the teacher was talking about this past week--how the hell was I going to even get a 30% on the frickin' test? At least, that was my justification when I skipped it. Now I just feel like I'm postponing my doom.
I should've prepared for this eventuality. I thought I could go Asian, and work hard this semester. What a laughable concept. I haven't worked hard since two years ago. I stopped caring two years ago. And now, what the hell am I going to do? Sometimes I just feel like giving up, and going for a repeat year. But if I don't work hard this year, how will I next year?
I've tried to make myself care. I really have. I've looked at people who've dropped out and are working part-time jobs now, and seen how miserable they are now, but... I don't care. I've seen those who work twelve-hour shifts just to scrape by, and I still just fuck up. I've even done a twelve-hour shift, standing the entire fucking time. Granted, it was only for a day, but I still can't bring myself to care. What's wrong with me??
It's funny. I do care, but not about school. I care that I don't care about school. Does that make sense?
Maybe tomorrow, I'll read all this as melodramatic bullshit, and get on with life. With physics. And math. And chemistry and english. Most of the time I just want to rip out the pages of the physics textbook and drop the husk in a nearby river. Maybe even make a hat or two (origami is awesome!). But, other times, very occasionally, I just want to cover it in bronze and stand it up, just because of the fact that I can understand so much now. The world is so cool from a mathematical perspective. Sometimes, I'm amazed I can understand it, and other times I'm so fucking frustrated at its twisted logic.
You know what, direct proportionality and inverse proportionality can go fuck themselves.
Monday 27 September 2010
Heroines
Another one of my rants that just wouldn't let go. This time it's about romance novel heroines.
I swear, everytime I read a historical romance novel, I always wonder at the stupidity of the heroine. Most romance novels have the character format of "Alpha hero" and "Upstart heroine," in which the heroine is this self-sufficient female that "doesn't need" a male in her life. What bullshit.
As the novel progresses, the heroine degenerates into more and more of a child, even sometimes crawling into the hero's lap and crying for comfort. It seems that she can't do anything without the hero there to point out her mistakes and "help" her along the way. Seriously? I mean, seriously? What the hell happened to the "proud, self-sufficient, doesn't-need-a-male" woman that was there in the beginning of the book?
What, she can't even go to a stupid ball without the hero there to hold her hand?? It's as if she's this little puppy that follows the male around and asks for scraps and leftovers.
And then, when the cynical hero "rejects"/"tries to protect" (I hate that phrase) her by not including her in important events, or not telling the truth, or even cheating on her, she comes back for more. What the hell happened to your pride, woman?
Oh, I've heard the argument: "He's very sensitive, he can't let go of his past, he can't help it, he needs me..." No, what he needs is a good kick in the face for even doing that in the first place.
These types of "heroines" are even in chicklits and contemporary romances. In chicklits, we have your classic clumsy, can't-seem-to-do-anything-right heroine. What's up with that? Why can't the heroine be a bitch, for once? Or even an independant, career-driven woman that is actually smart. And, strangely enough, this clumsy heroine manages to attract the attention of some successful businessman. Just how unrealistic do you want to get? Why don't you throw in a couple of vampires, just in case it isn't stupid enough? I mean, the guy is smart, successful, and NICE. Obviously he could do a LOT better than some Ordinary Jane. Successful people are attracted to successful people. Who'd want to go for anything lower?
I would actually like to read a chicklit in which the woman is a successful entrepreneur, and the guy is just some ordinary carpenter, or something. At least it would be original. Only with Nora Roberts have I found such a story. Perhaps that's why I like her work so much, despite her... lack of detail in certain scenes. But I digress.
Another thing that bothers me is that most of these heroines turn out to be virgins. God, how I hate that word. In historical romances, I can accept it, because that was how it was at the time. But contemporary? It's not even close to realistic. Why the hell would a woman wait until she was thirty to find "the one"? Why the hell would she even fall in love with her first? Doesn't she want to experiment, explore sexual freedom, and all that jazz? Oh, sure, the first would be memorable, but not for the reasons they state. It would be memorable because of how painful it would have been!
They say, "Oh, I'm saving myself for the one." Don't they realize that their first time is going to scar their experience with "the one"? I mean, considering how painful it is, I'm surprised they want to subject themselves to that pain by their beloved.
The hymen is an annoyance. Nothing more. It impedes a woman's progress in exploring all that life has to give her and even makes it painful when she wants to break out of her shell. I bet if it didn't exist, our human history would have drastically changed and women would have recieved equal rights even sooner.
And what the hell is up with Slut? It's just such a stupid and sexist word that it defies civilized nature, and I do not like it. If a woman wants to go with more than one man, it's her right. Or if she wants to wear short-shorts, it's her right. Who is anyone to judge? It's the same with a hijab. If a woman doesn't want to wear clothes that show skin, it's her right. Of course, some may argue that the right was taken away from her, but how do you know? If you don't, then don't judge.
The one thing that really bugs me is that all the people who write those romance novels are women. I always wonder what the hell is going on in their minds half the time. Why would they subject their main character to such humiliations, in which they need a male to survive? Real life doesn't work like that. You can only depend on yourself, and no one else, no matter how many people may delude themselves into thinking the opposite.
I mean, even male authors give their female characters more power than female authors. I recently read a book in which the heroine was more physically strong than the male, who was the main character, and it was written by a man. If men like women in power, why don't women?
The most obvious example to this rant is Twilight. I won't mention it again.
What saved female romance authors in my mind is the evolution of the urban fantasy genre. At least in those books there were actual smart and savvy heroines, who could completely fight for themselves, and didn't need a male's help, even though they accepted help sometimes. Anita Blake was a series I especially liked, since here was a smart, dangerous, and promiscuous woman who knew what she was talking about. Even though it devolved into full-blown erotica, I still remember the earlier books as being one of the best.
I just hope, as time progresses, so will romance authors and their heroines.
I swear, everytime I read a historical romance novel, I always wonder at the stupidity of the heroine. Most romance novels have the character format of "Alpha hero" and "Upstart heroine," in which the heroine is this self-sufficient female that "doesn't need" a male in her life. What bullshit.
As the novel progresses, the heroine degenerates into more and more of a child, even sometimes crawling into the hero's lap and crying for comfort. It seems that she can't do anything without the hero there to point out her mistakes and "help" her along the way. Seriously? I mean, seriously? What the hell happened to the "proud, self-sufficient, doesn't-need-a-male" woman that was there in the beginning of the book?
What, she can't even go to a stupid ball without the hero there to hold her hand?? It's as if she's this little puppy that follows the male around and asks for scraps and leftovers.
And then, when the cynical hero "rejects"/"tries to protect" (I hate that phrase) her by not including her in important events, or not telling the truth, or even cheating on her, she comes back for more. What the hell happened to your pride, woman?
Oh, I've heard the argument: "He's very sensitive, he can't let go of his past, he can't help it, he needs me..." No, what he needs is a good kick in the face for even doing that in the first place.
These types of "heroines" are even in chicklits and contemporary romances. In chicklits, we have your classic clumsy, can't-seem-to-do-anything-right heroine. What's up with that? Why can't the heroine be a bitch, for once? Or even an independant, career-driven woman that is actually smart. And, strangely enough, this clumsy heroine manages to attract the attention of some successful businessman. Just how unrealistic do you want to get? Why don't you throw in a couple of vampires, just in case it isn't stupid enough? I mean, the guy is smart, successful, and NICE. Obviously he could do a LOT better than some Ordinary Jane. Successful people are attracted to successful people. Who'd want to go for anything lower?
I would actually like to read a chicklit in which the woman is a successful entrepreneur, and the guy is just some ordinary carpenter, or something. At least it would be original. Only with Nora Roberts have I found such a story. Perhaps that's why I like her work so much, despite her... lack of detail in certain scenes. But I digress.
Another thing that bothers me is that most of these heroines turn out to be virgins. God, how I hate that word. In historical romances, I can accept it, because that was how it was at the time. But contemporary? It's not even close to realistic. Why the hell would a woman wait until she was thirty to find "the one"? Why the hell would she even fall in love with her first? Doesn't she want to experiment, explore sexual freedom, and all that jazz? Oh, sure, the first would be memorable, but not for the reasons they state. It would be memorable because of how painful it would have been!
They say, "Oh, I'm saving myself for the one." Don't they realize that their first time is going to scar their experience with "the one"? I mean, considering how painful it is, I'm surprised they want to subject themselves to that pain by their beloved.
The hymen is an annoyance. Nothing more. It impedes a woman's progress in exploring all that life has to give her and even makes it painful when she wants to break out of her shell. I bet if it didn't exist, our human history would have drastically changed and women would have recieved equal rights even sooner.
And what the hell is up with Slut? It's just such a stupid and sexist word that it defies civilized nature, and I do not like it. If a woman wants to go with more than one man, it's her right. Or if she wants to wear short-shorts, it's her right. Who is anyone to judge? It's the same with a hijab. If a woman doesn't want to wear clothes that show skin, it's her right. Of course, some may argue that the right was taken away from her, but how do you know? If you don't, then don't judge.
The one thing that really bugs me is that all the people who write those romance novels are women. I always wonder what the hell is going on in their minds half the time. Why would they subject their main character to such humiliations, in which they need a male to survive? Real life doesn't work like that. You can only depend on yourself, and no one else, no matter how many people may delude themselves into thinking the opposite.
I mean, even male authors give their female characters more power than female authors. I recently read a book in which the heroine was more physically strong than the male, who was the main character, and it was written by a man. If men like women in power, why don't women?
The most obvious example to this rant is Twilight. I won't mention it again.
What saved female romance authors in my mind is the evolution of the urban fantasy genre. At least in those books there were actual smart and savvy heroines, who could completely fight for themselves, and didn't need a male's help, even though they accepted help sometimes. Anita Blake was a series I especially liked, since here was a smart, dangerous, and promiscuous woman who knew what she was talking about. Even though it devolved into full-blown erotica, I still remember the earlier books as being one of the best.
I just hope, as time progresses, so will romance authors and their heroines.
Thursday 13 May 2010
Cliffhangers
Yes, I'm back. And here to talk about the BANE of my life. CLIFFHANGERS.
You know, every time I read a series that I really get into, it always ends in a cliffhanger. It's like there's this secret society with the best authors out there that blackmail other authors to end their most recent books in a cliffhanger. I'm going to follow one of my friend's example, and picture the scene:
Anyway, I just hate cliffhangers! It even happens in movies and shows now! What is with writers today? Can't they ever show closure in the show/movie/book? So what if the episode/movie/book was really good? It's the ending that makes a story!
I'm just griping about this because Jim Butcher's latest book, Changes, ended in a cliffhanger, all of Karen Marie Moning's Fever books end in cliffhangers (which just get to me, but I can't stop reading the most recent ones, cause they're so good), and now Supernatural's season finale (one of the reasons I hate season finales, even though they're usually the best episode in the season) ended in a cliffhanger!
Why do all of the good series/episodes/movies end in cliffhangers?
It's as if it's some sort of marketing campaign, to make sure people buy the next book that comes out almost instantly, or watch the new episode/movie almost instantly when it comes on.
You know, every time I read a series that I really get into, it always ends in a cliffhanger. It's like there's this secret society with the best authors out there that blackmail other authors to end their most recent books in a cliffhanger. I'm going to follow one of my friend's example, and picture the scene:
"Oh, Rai, we love you!" The famous author shut the door against the screaming fans. With her back to it, her chest heaving, she frowned. She hadn't realized that her last book, The Billionare's Blackmailed Bride, would become so popular.
"So you're the famous author, Rai Tore."
Rai looked to the side of her, and saw a hooded figure covered in the darkness of the corner of the room. Who wore cloaks in the summer? "Um, obviously. I'm, like, famous and everything. It's totally awesome. Haven't you read any of my über-famous books? They're, like, totally awesome."
"...Riight... Anyway, I'm here to tell you to put in a cliffhanger for your next book... or else."
"Or else what?"
"Or else we, the Society of Super-Famous-Awesome-Totally-Cool authors will ruin you." Dun dun dunnnn....Without saying anything else, the figure faded back into the darkness, never to be seen again. Rai wished she could do that. With a sigh, she opened the door and turned back to her adoring fans, trying to wade through the crowd.
Anyway, I just hate cliffhangers! It even happens in movies and shows now! What is with writers today? Can't they ever show closure in the show/movie/book? So what if the episode/movie/book was really good? It's the ending that makes a story!
I'm just griping about this because Jim Butcher's latest book, Changes, ended in a cliffhanger, all of Karen Marie Moning's Fever books end in cliffhangers (which just get to me, but I can't stop reading the most recent ones, cause they're so good), and now Supernatural's season finale (one of the reasons I hate season finales, even though they're usually the best episode in the season) ended in a cliffhanger!
Why do all of the good series/episodes/movies end in cliffhangers?
It's as if it's some sort of marketing campaign, to make sure people buy the next book that comes out almost instantly, or watch the new episode/movie almost instantly when it comes on.
Okay, now I'm done ranting. I just needed to get it out of my system. Thank god for blogs. You know what, now that summer's coming nearer, I'll probably be posting more now. Hopefully. Probably. Maybe.
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