Self Reflection

Some people will spend their whole lives trying to find stability. The ultimate goal is to avoid all possible changes that may disrupt their regular, comfortable lives.

I, however, have got into a pattern of disrupting and changing any stability in my life. Maybe as a way to test it (will it be here tomorrow if I poke at it a bit or neglect it?) and show that all things are not fixed, they are truly mutable.
Alteration, static, chaos even. I seem to be lost in my own chaotic magnetism.
Yet, it wouldn't seem so from an outside perspective.
Once you get inside your perception may shift. Here I am, a young woman - lost in a foreign country, and dealing with the outcomes of my own frantic decision-making - yet I'm acting as though everything is OK.

Last night a close girl friend of mine came over for tea. We hadn't had a real conversation in weeks, and we are both having some gemini insanity in our lives, so it was time to vent.
It was only when we sat together face-to-face that we were able to confront the negative realities that we have created for ourselves. We aren't satisfied with our lives, we want more - where is the creative energy that we know exists somewhere inside of us? What has happened to our drive, our youthfulness?
We are getting older. We are bored of the same things. We no longer want to get drunk with our friends and talk about nothing.
Where is the art, the music, the community, the action??
Confusion. Totally lost. It's not here. Or is it?

When I first moved to Prague I was in a dream-like state. Everything was new (well old actually), interesting. The culture was one I hadn't experienced before so I took it in with wide eyes. I was excited for what this city could offer me and what I could give it back in return.
I wasn't sure I wanted to get stuck here (I had plans to go to Spain for some time and learn Spanish), but I thought I could at least try it for a year and see how it goes.

Fast forward nine months later, here I am, with some memorable experiences under my belt, uninspired, and to be frank, bitter as sin.

I come from a family of people that love to complain. I have, regretfully, picked up this trait and have carried it with me throughout my life. Isn't it ever enough, some ask? No. Nothing is ever enough. Satisfaction is not guaranteed and there will always be problems.

What I realize from this is that I need a complete attitude makeover. This is not some small task, I have two decades of evil patterns to reverse. So now the question is HOW?

We always hear: Fight or flight.

Run away from Prague? No, I will never get away from MYSELF.

So fight? But who and in what way? I could fight the man, that always made me feel good - working for the underdog, the ones who always get left in the gutter.
But I did my fair share of social activism and I got tired of it, I still care but I need something else.
I need ideas/inspiration, a loving community (without the high school drama and fake friendships and drug dependencies), independent and interdependent creativity, some job/work that makes me not hate my life!

I want freedom to choose what I do and not have someone breathing down my neck (boss, parent, controlling spouse, etc) but in return I do not want to breathe down anyone else's neck.

This is my task. I am on a mission and it's not the Mormon kind.

USA Number One!!

What the fuck is up with this?!
First off, this sign makes absolutely NO SENSE whatsoever.

Why would a shop called Euro Nails be using an American style??
I do not have an answer to this question.
It is absurd, and something I have been noticing a lot in my short time (around 9 months) living in the Czech Republic.

They like to call things "American", and the only thing that I can see that makes it American is the fact that there are the colors of the American flag present and maybe some stripes/stars apparent somewhere (like in this sign, with the stars in the big "E" for EURO. jeez).

A couple weekends ago I visited a small Czech city called Podebrady, and in the center there was an "American" Pizza cart. As far as I could tell, the pizza was Czech. And what the hell is American style pizza anyways? As an American I would really like to know what "American style" means.

And also, why people would choose this as a way to make business. Are Czech people drawn to anything that says America on it? I mean, yeah, sometimes I see some douchebag on the street wearing a T-shirt with an American flag staring me in the face. But I figured they are just some pathetic tourist, showing some pride.

But after just one trip to Prague's crackhead-cheap second hand shop, Megasekac, I realized that Czech people have a shitload of American-flag ridden clothing items. Boxer shorts, Baby T's, Hoodies and more! Get yer American paraphanelia today at the 30 krown shop!!

In a country that has been in Communist depression for 40 years, they have done a shitload of turn-around in the last 20 years since the Velvet Revolution. And yes, they are one of the USA's most loyal allies - even going so far as offering up Czech land for an American-owned military Radar.

But why show such pride for a country that has lost most of it's own pride in the last 8 years (George Bush's presidency, need I say more)?

I am stumped.
So WTF - why don't y'all show yer Czech pride in the U.S.A. ??!!!
Oh yeah, because We're #1! We're #1!
[jus' kidding! i aint got no american pride]

Paris Hilton Clown

Halloween is not a widely accepted holiday in the Czech Republic. So you can imagine the looks of horror I was getting from the babickas (Czech word for grandma) and other tram-riders when I got on dressed up as a slutty clown.

Granted, it was the weekend before the actual Halloween, but the look on their faces was like "go away, freak".
(Reminiscent of the time Sarka and I covered ourselves in bloody zombie gear for Prague's first Zombie Walk, and an old woman on the tram told us to get away from her.)

Here I posted a picture of me before I made out with this severed head.

Even with the Czechs claiming no interest in this "American holiday", with the recent introduction of mainstream capitalism/westernization setting the standards for the new generation of Czech teenagers, they are getting in on the fun too.

On the actual night of Halloween I found myself drunk and a bit lost with some friends - a group of young Czech teens were lost by us also, and they ended up going to the same party as us. I was a bit embarrassed because one of the dudes had similar makeup on as me, we both slightly resembled the Crow [you know, creepy superhero-esque quasi goth movie from the early 90s], though he pulled it off better than me.

The expat community in Prague most definitely celebrated, and there were parties all over the city for Halloween. Me and my friends saw the band Blaq Mummy, who only seem to perform on Halloween and play horror rock or something like that.

At the end of the show the Dead Bride vocalist threw her dead rose bouquet for some lucky single zombie out there - and it landed, perfectly, in my grrrl Mary Black's tits.
I think I should make a whole blog entry about her breasticles, because they seem to be growing, and this strange miracle needs to be logged.
It's research people.

Why women let men fuck them over

I'm starting a post that I will continually go back to and update about why women allow men to fuck them over. It's mostly a reference to the ways that society teaches women that their self-worth is found through their appeal to men and under the rules of male-dominated institutions.

The list:

Her body is no temple

• Women's bodies are on display everywhere. Our bodies are not only used for artistic purposes either. They are here to advertise, well, absolutely everything and anything. It's the process called objectification. Men are taught to become completely paralyzed by the mere thought, let alone image, of a woman's breast. We can thank playboy and other pornographic media forms for the hyper-sexualization and obsession with the naked female form. It's gotten to the point where men will pay ungodly amounts for an hour alone with some disenfranchised and highly exploited sex worker.
  

Trophyism

• Constant exposure to the billions of media depictions of these seemingly "perfect" unrealistic women's bodies has a nasty effect. Women have learned to hate their "imperfect" bodies, while men have learned that they are not a real man unless they can find and conquer this "perfect" looking woman. Why do you think you always see beautiful women with dog-ugly men? It's not just because of his money. She also finds some false pleasure from being his "trophy".

We are afraid of being alone

• In all honesty, as a woman, I am completely scared of the thought let alone reality that I could be alone. Not just someday. I mean, for like a day or two. While men are taught to be independent, strong and brave - women are taught to be dependent, clingy, needy and pathetically desparate to win the affection of some powerful man.
  

• What about girl power? Yeah, well, it is a bullshit ploy to make you think the media isn't all anti-woman. But really, it mostly is, even that spice girl stuff was complete sexist bullshit. A scam. A sexist dirty scam to trick young girls into some false ally-ship with other girls through shitty pop music and cutesy nicknames. Ooh, I'm baby spice. No you're scary spice. And I was the perfect age when this shit was blowing up, and I was like, "whats this bullshit?" Everyone knows these 30 year old women in short skirts are stealing our money and not bringing girls any closer together, nevertheless giving us a sense of independence, freedom or power.
  

Don't call me what?!

When I was a fourteen year old freshman in High School my Literature teacher, Mr. Cornelius, started calling the only non-white person in my class the "Persian playboy". The kid thought it was cute, and would retain a huge grin when Mr. Cornelius would call on him using the name "Persian playboy" on a daily basis, for the entire year. It was a compliment to him, because the kid would always try to act like a ladies man. Me and the other girls all thought he was a little shrimp and a total pathetic creep.

But Mr. Cornelius loved pumping up this kids ego, even though he never seemed to know the answer to the question, or do his homework. Looking back, I had this class with the "Persian playboy" for a year, and to this day I do not know his real name.

Even as a young teenager, I was disgusted by the mere mention of this nickname, and felt it to be both racist and sexist. Though at the time I had no idea how racism or sexism really worked, but in my head I knew giving this kid this label would fuck him up for life, and that it had an effect on the people around him, the way they perceived him. Fuck, it still resonates with me ten years later.

After the first month of class with Mr. Cornelius, he started to become much more comfortable with speaking openly with us and it became clear he was in complete control of this class.
I had mixed feelings about him, part of me was very intrigued by his asshole-demeanor, the other half completely despised this evil evil man.

It became clear which half I was to resonate with, when one day Mr. Cornelius asked me if I knew what a JAP was, in front of the entire attentive classroom.

I hate being put on the spot, and I had no idea, but I guessed, "I don't know. A japanese person?"
He responded, "Well.. no. It stands for Jewish American Princess. Typically a young spoiled Jewish girl from a wealthy family. You're Jewish and from L.A., so JAP is your new nickname."

And from then on, I had absolutely no choice but to allow Mr. Cornelius, the most controlling and intimidating instructor I have EVER had in my life, to call me "JAP" or "Jewish American Princess" (if he was feeling especially wordy), every fucking day.

I was young. Confused. Didn't know yet how to respond. I tolerated it, and at first even got some sense of self-worth from this title. I felt like he liked me and the other students were jealous that they didn't have a nickname.

But after some time I realized that it was just me, the JAP, and the Persian Playboy. He was putting me in the "other" category with this little douchebag. I despised this.

We were the only "others" in the class. We weren't WASPs. So in a way, I started to feel some connection to this young wannabe-player, even though I was a secret uber-feminist, I knew that we both would always be labeled as something other than normal in this insanely critical American society.

I am Jewish. I am female. I am from Los Angeles and an upper-middle class family.
I am automatically shoved into a category and stereotyped based upon this labeled group.
There was no escaping this reality of my religion, ethnicity, gender, and class standing identities and they consumed me and all of my life experiences.

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So how does the rest of society perceive this term??

JAP: Either a derogatory term referring to Japanese people or a modernly used acronym for a "Jewish American Princess".

	Urbandictionary.com describes a JAP as: A Jewish girl who is incredibly spoiled in every way, and gets whatever she wants, whenever she wants. Usually out and about. She knows the latest trends and is always up to date on things going on around her.

Or this definition even has precise details of a JAP's accessories:

• A Jewish American Princess (JAP) owns: Hardtail and/or Juicy sweatpants, UGGs, a black puffy North Face, many cut sweatshirts, 2ct diamond earings, a Michele Watch, many long beaded necklaces, a Longchamp bag to carry books in, a Herves bag to carry laptop, a Louis key wallet for keys to their X5, a black RAZR, many Juicy zip-ups, Burberry scarves (NOT THE ORIGINAL COLORS!) , David Yurman jewelery. Dior or Chanel or Gucci sunglasses, 575 jeans, Rock & Republics, Seven for All Mankind denim (with Swarovski crystals), Citizens of Humanity jeans.

JAPs come in male form too! wow:

• Jewish American Prince, can also be used for males. These male japs reside in the upper-middle class suburbs of philadelphia. They think they are city people, simply because they eat cheesesteaks and are sports fans. Their families flaunt their pretty much non-existant wealth by leasing expensive Lexus SUV's while telling the rest of the synagogue that they bought it.

How about a JAP joke? :

• Question: What do JAPs and tampons have in common ?

• Answer: They're both stuck up cunts.