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Monthly Archives: February 2014

Dear Miranda: Dream on

In response to Dear Kyra 1o books that changed my life

Dear Miranda,

Surprisingly, somewhere in the process of writing an undergraduate thesis on the importance of pleasure reading, I did in fact decide that reading is good for you. Go figure.

So, it’s almost 3am. Because I’m a bit of an insomniac, that’s why. Good thing I can nap tomorrow?

The good news is, when I do sleep I usually have some pretty messed up dreams. And who doesn’t love a crazy dream to keep them entertained while they sleep.

The other night I was dreaming that I was the leader of a rebellion force against this evil tyrant who could hypnotize people with his voice. Everyone in the rebellion would wear ear plugs and use sign language so he couldn’t hypnotize us. And I got to be the leader of the rebellion because I could make myself intangible, which was very handy for escaping all the time.

Also, this evil tyrant guy had a really hot son. I spent most of the dream assuming that Hot Guy was evil just like his father. But then I was holding this prison break (the evil tyrant had thrown Madison in prison for being my sister, so naturally, I was setting her free like a good sister. There were also this couple who were thrown in prison for playing the piano. I’m telling you, this tyrant was a JERK).

Anyway, I had gotten everybody out safely, and was staying behind to fight off all the guards when the Hot Guy showed up and told me that he would hold off the guards so I could escape (very chivalrous, despite the fact that the guards couldn’t actually capture me on account of the whole intangibility thing). I woke up just as I was about to go confront Hot Guy about why he hadn’t bothered to tell me sooner that he was actually a good guy. I’m pretty sure kissing him was also on the agenda, but it never happened on account of I had to wake up for stupid classes.

I also have a number of interesting recurring dreams. I have one where I get kidnapped in an airport. I have another in which I’m trying to find something in Grandma’s house, but there are all these secret passages and the walls keep moving around.

My favorite recurring dreams have involved learning how to fly. It started out as me playing a game of The Floor is Lava and I jumped from one couch to another, but instead of landing I just kind of hovered over the furniture. Progressively, through my dreams, I’ve learned that if I arch my shoulders back, I can fly higher. So I’ve actually gotten to be a pretty proficient flier in my dreams.


But my favorite dream of all time (in terms of how messed up it was): I got teleported into the future, where giant robots were keeping humans as pets. This one guy has secretly built a time machine without his robot overlord knowing. Then he kidnapped me from my time period because I had my doctorate in linguistics. But this guy was actually trying to get Dr. Kevin Nelson, who invented the robot’s tech originally. So basically he got the wrong Dr. K. Nelson. He also had a huge crush on me, but I wasn’t really into him due to the fact that he kidnapped me from home and got me stuck living in a cage where we had to use those tubes that they have in hamster cages to get from one room to another. Because the robots actually designed our homes/cages after hamster cages.

Bascially, dreams are really weird.



P.S. The last time I played The Floor Is Lava, it was 3:30 in the morning. At a hostel in Scotland. And I almost died on an unsteady leg rest.


Body Shaming Hurts Everyone

When I was in middle school, a boy told me to my face that I was ugly. I don’t bring this up to make you feel bad for me. I’ve been over it for a long time. But the comments did bother me for a really long time. I spent most of middle school wanting to be invisible and thinking that if I guy were to like me, it would be despite how I look.

Fortunately, that was the only time anybody has blatantly told me I was ugly. However, I have often experienced the feelings that accompanied the comment. In many cases, these feelings have been the result of comments that were actually directed at other women.

Sometimes when somebody makes a comment about another woman being fat or not being very pretty, my self esteem suffers.You may not know it, but I think that girl looks like me. I may think she looks better than me. And you just said she didn’t look good. By extension, I don’t look good.

It may not be sound logic, but that’s the conclusion I come to. And I’m not alone. Other girls have shared experiences with me where they felt bad about themselves because of something somebody said about another girl. People who body shame aren’t just hurting the people they’re talking about.

In fact, body shamers also hurt themselves when they make comments about others. As a general rule, people don’t like being around those who frequently make negative remarks.

If a guy makes a negative comment about another girl’s appearance, I’m turned off. Like really turned off. Instantly. I’m not intimidated when a guy talks about other girls who he thinks are pretty. It just makes me feel like he is able to see the beauty in people. And that is refreshing.

Furthermore, I don’t think body shaming really encourages people to adapt healthier lifestyles. If it did, I don’t think there would be overweight people, because they certainly are shamed plenty. As Taylor Swift puts it, “You have pointed out my flaws again, as if I don’t already see them.” Believe, you aren’t going to point out something about me I haven’t already noticed and wanted to change.

Actually, the points in my life where I’ve had the healthiest lifestyle have been when I loved myself. And I mean that as the self respect helped me live a healthier lifestyle. Why? Because I wanted to take care of myself rather than hide my body.

Fun fact: It takes confidence to go to the gym. Why? Because it’s really hard not to be intimidated by the girl on the bike next to you who is going twice as fast with a steeper incline all while annihilating your Fruit Ninja high score. It takes a little bit of self love to be comfortable with that.

So in short, don’t body shame. Just don’t.

I mean, really. Why you gotta be so mean?

My 3-year-old cousin knows this song word for word. It’s cute. Just saying.