Warpaint

Normally, when I get up in the morning, with a deep contempt for the mere thought of awaking at 5 AM, my morning "beauty" ritual consists of washing my face, taming my coif from "medusa" to "don't give a f-ck" and slap on pants of some variety which (sort of) match with blouse of some variety.  If I can find a pair of argyle trouser socks to garishly pair with pinstripe slacks, then that is pure gravy on my "I lost the will to give a s--t about these things" motif.  As a person, I waiver from bouts of mental androgyny to random outbursts of crying during romantic period pieces.*  As such, I am not always the best versed in the ways of beauty.  I grew up with three brothers, and, I assure you, none gave a s--t about lipstick.


However, the fact of the matter is, as a woman in my thirties desperately seeking a long overdue change of job title and transcendence into a coveted middle-office job, it's sometimes a necessity for me to cover up my natural flaws in order to look professional.  Most days, it's all about my natural face.  And, if I could, I would wear blue jeans to work every day.  After all, my end goal is a quest to an obscure cubicle somewhere where I can build a nest and hiss at passersby.  Yet, when entering the war zone which is the dreaded 2-4 hour long meeting, you cannot enter unarmed.

When I was younger, there was always this sense that women wore makeup simply to look pretty.    And, in truth, in the days when a woman's livelihood was contingent on some male breadwinner to find her "doable", the end goal was to look pretty, because prettiness was considered the only weapon we had at our disposal.

Leap back to the present, I realize that several of my feminist friends, and several of my strongest female friends, are avid aficionados of make up.  Whereas my uncultured ass thinks Revlon is fancy makeup, they are seasoned veterans of the aisles of Sephora and Ulta.  They could contour 40 lbs off of a face and replicate van Gogh's Sunflowers on their pinkie finger using four shades of nail polish.  Having known these women, I had to examine what it is about makeup and fashion that calls to most women--what makes it one of the classic attributes of femininity?

It is not simply "looking pretty."  Our desire to alter our appearances isn't rooted solely in vanity.  If that was the case, we would find one look that is very flattering and simply dress that way for the rest of our lives.  But that's not how it works.  Rather, we crave the ability to exercise control over our physical environment, and our own lives.

As a gender who, in most societies, was given a subservient position, we had to seize control in the small ways we could.  So we decorated our homes, we cultivated gardens with plants for pure aesthetic value, and we painted our faces.  We discovered that through attire and makeup we could step into a new role for the day--manipulate perception of our persona.  A smokey eye and a sleek black dress with pumps exudes an air of sensual power.  Pastels, flowing fabrics, and minimal makeup presents us as innocent, nurturing even.  A woman is given the power to adjust her identity with each aesthetic choice she makes, playing upon common archetypes to evoke a new persona.

It was then I came to see makeup for what it really is, a form of war paint.  It is not a necessity, but it is a signal we wear to others, conveying the persona we want them to encounter that day.  And it is not mere falsehood, for the very nature of humanity is the seasons and the malleability of our moods.  Some days we are the nurturer, others, the destroyer.  Makeup is one of many clues we impart upon the audience of the world to convey which way the tide has turned on a particular day.

An Open Letter to a Hero

Dear Music Philanthropist,

There are many heroes in this world who tirelessly sacrifice themselves to help others: nurses, firefighters, and paramedics.  But you, dear Music Philanthropist, go beyond the call of duty to bring free beats to all the blocks you drive past.  One would think you do it for the swarms of women who (undoubtedly) throw themselves at the hood of your car, hypnotized with lust from the siren song of your unparalleled bass.  Yet, tragically, your would-be harem is permanently deafened upon approaching within five feet of your noble vehicle.  Therefore, yours must be a lonely life.  Your selfless gift of free music is often misunderstood, and seldom praised, but I am here today to thank you for all that you do.

Your contribution of 140 decibel music to all those you drive past is an immeasurable treasure to the entire community.  I live one block over from a senior living community, and I can tell you that for some of the residents who are hard of hearing, the music you deliver from your car is the first music they have heard in decades.  Your bold beats have awakened the comatose patients at the hospital you drove past yesterday.  You awaken us from our slumber, as though calling us to get up and seize the fullness of life once again!  What joy and merriment you bring with your wonderfully sub-par music selection and the painful percussion which is heard with delightful nausea.

Yet, I realize that your gift to us does not come without a price.  Subwoofers are quite pricey, and adorning your valiant Chevy Cobalt with a spoiler is not cheap.  You have clearly sacrificed much of your parents’ hard earned money into your vehicle’s sound system.  Worst of all, in order to play your music at a volume at which all residents in the tri-county area can enjoy, you have had to sacrifice your own hearing.  Perhaps that is the greatest tragedy of all; that you can no longer hear the very music with which you have so thoughtfully shared with the entire community.

Therefore, I salute you, dear Music Philanthropist, for the free music you have so bravely blasted for all to hear.  You may not be appreciated by all, or understood by many, but there will come a day that cities will raise statues in your honor.

Sincerely,

A Grateful Neighbor

2016 Resolution

I believe I am who I am for a reason.  As a Christian, if I believe in an omnipotent, omniscient, and all-loving God, then it can only be concluded that God wants me to be the person he has crafted me to be.  That is not to say there are not opportunities for growth, for positive change and development, but those traits which make me who I am were given to me with a purpose.  To alter the core of my being would be an insult to the divine creator. 

I have always possessed a certain…propensity, to quirkiness, to view life from another angle.  I wither and wilt in environments that strongly stress conformity.  I believe that community is achieved (though it may seem paradoxically) through the expression of our individuality.  Conformity, though seemingly building community to some, deprives a community of the necessary diversity of skill and opinion needed to succeed.   It is when we embrace our individual talents, gifts, and natures that we contribute meaningfully to society.  Whether you believe it to be by divine will or by a process of evolution, we are not born into this world in a singular mold.  If homogeny was the desired trait of the universe it stands to reason that we would be born identical to one another. 

I have felt tremendous guilt because I have not strongly pursued a career path to financial success.  I have agonized over feeling like a failure.  I have been trapped in a mental purgatory in which I lack the desire and the will to take the path which would lead to potential financial betterment.  I have watched others walk down that path; they work 60 hours a week for a job which isn’t their passion.  They are exhausted to make time for family and friends; shackled to a world in which the pursuit of material comfort leaves them empty of genuine purpose or sincere happiness.  Those who sacrifice their life for a career they do not feel some passion for are often encouraged to conform to a corporate machine and stripped of the individuality which makes them beautiful.  I would not condemn myself to such a life.  However, due to my educational debts I felt ashamed that I did not pursue that path which would have permitted me to pay off my financial obligations.

But, my spiritual beliefs remind me that I was born with a purpose.  It is no coincidence that I possess the talents, training, passions, and temperament that I possess.  It is unnatural, and a slight to God who has made me what I am, to be that which I am not.  It is not out of selfish pursuit of happiness that I seek ultimately to obtain a career which is suited to my individuality, but, rather, the unselfish desire to utilize my God-given gifts to be the person I was born to be.  By embracing who I am, only then can I live a life fulfilled.  That is not to say I will not take jobs in the interim out of necessity for survival, I shall, but at the end of the day I will be seeking to fulfill my greater purpose and endeavor not to be distracted by promises of financial security or social prestige. 

This is my 2016 resolution, to focus on strengthening and embracing my identity and my purpose in life.  I will no longer be ashamed of being in debt, nor will I feel guilt over the lack of advancement in my career.  I have never once believed that the success of others was measured by their success in the boardroom.  So why, then, should I hold myself to that standard?  I have always believed that successful people are the ones who have cultivated a rich life of friends, family, spirituality, and creativity.  In 2016 I resolve to focus on what really matters and do my best to liberate myself from the guilt which consumed me in 2015. 

Episode Sixty Three: (Un)Justifiable Cruelty

Like many people of Russian descent, I suffer from the occasional temper.  Today I had a brush with my own dark side.  At work I lost my temper on a biller who had been making mistakes in her billing files.  After I calmed down, I wrote an email apologizing, and then I spoke to the liaison for the biller’s company.  I felt better after speaking to the liaison, who agreed with my concern, but as I hung up the phone I realized just how easy it is to transform into a monster.

The monstrous thing is not that I lost my temper.  While losing my temper is hardly a good thing, the real frightening thing is how we as a society justify being rude, mean, or downright cruel to others.  Yelling at the biller accomplished nothing, and it certainly made her job all the more stressful.  The liaison helped remedy the situation, but in the end left me with a small feeling of vindication.  The problem is, it’s irrelevant whether we’re correct or incorrect; being “right” does not give us Carte Blanche to hurt other peoples’ feelings.

We live in a winning-obsessed culture.  Not only do we love being right and hate being wrong, but we believe that if we are factually correct that means we are in the right.  The internet has always been the playground where our argumentative nature comes out to play.  Facebook, in particular, has dragged out the worst in many of us.  I use Facebook as the example because unlike debating politics on a forum where your opponent is a stranger, on Facebook people debate politics with their friends, family, coworkers, and classmates. 

We get so caught up in proving our message that we forget the subtext and the impact on our relationship with others.  Unfortunately an argument may prove a point while being demeaning to others.  You may “win” an argument while successfully belittling someone you otherwise love and care about.  In this phenomenon our opinions become more important to us than people.  It’s not to say that our ideology lacks merit, or isn’t standing for the right thing, but our presentation of our ideology is harmful and disrespectful to others.

Differences of ideology are nothing new, but when we are not standing face to face with the people we break down with debate we forget their humanity.  We cannot always prevent others from taking offense.  Even words without an intent to harm can still be hurtful, but we must have the wisdom to recognize when we are in the wrong even if our facts or our ideology is correct.  Tone matters, as does the method by which we deliver our message.  We must have the courage to admit when we are in the wrong.  When we feel vindicated at hurting the feelings of someone around us because we were “right” then we become monsters.  We like to believe that evil is found in large actions, but frequently it is the small ways in which we try to justify cruelty that we create evil in the world. 

Episode Sixty Two: The Feministic Implications of Frozen

In many ways Frozen was to the new generation what The Little Mermaid was to my generation.  Frozen has beautiful Disney music, singing, obsessed fans, and enough merchandising to put all the accountants at Disney into a blissful slumber for 100 years.  I have heard quite a bit of back and forth from those who consider Frozen to be a win for feminism and those who consider it to be a step back.  One particular article stood out to me, the critique by actress and neuroscientist, Mayim Bialik.  Dr. Bialik raised many good points, but I feel there’s one aspect she didn’t consider.  Raising a counterpoint to Dr. Bialik feels a little presumptuous on my part; it’s as though I’m a chimp trying to refute someone’s doctoral thesis.  However, regardless of the content of the film itself, it is the reception of Frozen in young audiences that proved a win for feminism. 

The film presented us two royal sisters, Anna and Elsa.  While both sisters are important to the plot and have ample screen time, there was a clear favorite among fans young and old.  Elsa stole the show.  Anna was clearly intended to be the main protagonist.  However, if costumes, merchandising, and fan-frenzy have taught us anything, it’s that everyone loves Elsa.

                

What’s the difference between the two sisters?  Both were born princesses.  Both were beautiful.  All the general prerequisites of Disney Princesses were met.  The difference? The younger sister got a boyfriend at the end of the movie.  The older sister got a Kingdom, bitchin’ magic powers, and a friggin’ ice castle (ok, and the best song in the movie).  The reception of Frozen proved that for little girls everywhere, a handsome male companion was nothing compared to having magical (and political) power. An entire generation of young girls have clearly shown that girls want bitchin’ magic powers, not just some guy with a nice sleigh (sorry Kristoff). 

                

Women with magical powers are not new to Disney, but that role has been limited to villains, matriarchs, and brief plot devices.  Stop and review women with innate magic in prior Disney films.  There’s the villains: Maleficent, Ursula, and the Evil Queen.  Then there’s the matriarchs: the Fairy Godmother, Flora/Fauna/Merryweather, and the witch lady from Brave.  Outside of that, magic associated with Disney Princesses was in the form of a plot device rather than a skill (i.e. Magic Hair, Enchantresses fed up with snotty princes on Airbnb, Blue Fairies, Faustian pacts, etc.). 

When Frozen introduced Elsa, it introduced a young Disney woman with serious magical ability fashioned through her own willpower and creativity.  Elsa doesn’t simply perspire chilly air or serendipitously cry healing tears; she can construct elaborate and beautiful structures with her ability.  She transforms not from Princess to Queen, but from a woman whose innate talent acted upon her into a woman who wields her power with proficiency and grace.  She is no longer the victim of her circumstances or her environment, but rather the master of her own fate.  This concept differentiates Elsa and many of the contemporary Disney women from their predecessors.

While a work should be judged on its content, and not its reception, I feel the reception of Frozen proved insightful into the future of feminism.  Fiction is transformative in nature, but sometimes that transformation is not the one intended by the creator.  The absolute love affair with Elsa reflects our enthusiasm as a society with women coming into strength and power.  A generation of girls are wanting more than a rescue courtesy of a romantic partner.  A generation of girls are looking up to a, albeit fictional, woman in power.  One day the little girls running around in Elsa costumes at Halloween will be old enough to read about the real women in positions of power who have shaped history.  And, if we nurture these girls, they will grow up and change the world. 

Episode Sixty One: An Unusual Metaphor that Explains the Rift Between Atheists and Christians

So once again the old wounds between the "logical" atheists and the "spiritual" Christians were ripped open by the break through discoveries with the long sought-after "God Particle".  I've never understood how evidence supporting the theories of evolution and the big bang disproves the existence of god- (though it does interfere with a literal interpretation of biblical timeline).  As a Christian and someone who does take quite a shine to logic I've never seen why we must consider science and Christianity mutually exclusive. 

I like to think of it as lego blocks and the kid playing with the lego blocks.  Some factions of atheists believe that the existence of the building blocks of the universe disproves the existence of God--- sort of like saying because there are lego blocks building a lego house therefore there is not a child who constructed the house.  Some factions of Christianity seem to take the same argument, in a different direction- they try hard to disprove things such as evolution for the same reason.  Because there is a kid playing with toys- and the kid made the house.  The house of legos was generated solely from the mind of the child- and no blocks were used in the process. 

I'm not saying Christians and Atheists are wrong- but rather, there seems to be a fallacy in the philosophy of the extremists.  They say God made man in his image- and it is a known fact human kind was able to differentiate from other animals because of our use of tools.  Therefore, it is not unreasonable that God fashioned the universe itself in an elegant way- in a way that provided a framework and foundation to work from.  God made tools to aid him in the creation of the universe.  You can build a toy house out of many materials- but nothing works quite as easy or brings as much joy as snapping together a couple of legos.

Episode Sixty: Harry Potter- Kind of Like Batman meets Jane Eyre

So I was treated to a midnight showing of the Harry Potter Deathly Hallows part two.  After I graduated last summer I finally had time to sit down and read the series.  While the six hour wait wasn't particularly fun, there were some definite perks going on opening night in the US.  For example, a girl dressed up as Bellatrix offering people cupcakes shaped like cauldrons- too adorable.  It was fun hearing everyone laugh and cry at all the same scenes.  Yet, a few months ago I found myself realizing another British orphan who pre-dates Harry, and a few weeks ago my fiance and I realized the famous near-sighted wizard has a lot in common with another fictional icon- Batman.

Batman, Jane Eyre, and Harry Potter, perhaps three of the world's best fictitious orphans.  Now some may argue- why am I roping Jane into the  mix.  I happened to be re-reading the first chapters of Jane Eyre when I realized how much Jane's experience living with the Reeds set the stage for Harry's life with the Dursleys.  Jane and Harry both live in the heart of misery.  They both lost their parents as infants and live with an insufferable Aunt who hates them for just being them.  They're both considered odd by their overly conventional relatives, and both have a male cousin that bullies them.  They're second class citizens and then early in their story they're shipped off to boarding school.  The similarities generally end there- Hogwarts is made of awesome and Lowood, well, you'd be better off in most prisons than Lowood.

However the real parallel comes down to Harry and Batman.  Their stories continually pull back to the same hook- their parents were murdered and they want justice for their parents.  Both have inherited a pretty sum of money- you take your pick whether you prefer a vault of gold at Grignotts or stock in Wayne Enterprises.  And let's face it, the more you think of the parallels to Harry and Bruce Wayne, the more it all sort of clicks.  Ron, unfortunately for him, is a lot like Robin.  There's also the wise mentor in Alfred the Butler and Dumbledore. 

The reason I say Harry is like Jane Eyre meets Batman is because, Harry has all of Batman's angst but ultimately finds his peace.  Now I'm sure a comic book aficionado would have some case to argue that Batman eventually finds happiness- but generally Bruce Wayne is the ultimate loner.  Sure, he has girlfriends (briefly), various young boys as Robin (does he recruit from a van with candy?), and of course, his Butler/Confidante.  None the less, the theme of Harry Potter is that Harry ultimately finds his strength from those around him.  It always comes back to Harry and his friends Ron and Hermione, to his relationships with his mentors (Sirius, Albus, Remus, Hagrid), and he does have his peace despite being hunted by a sociopath-wizard for 17ish years.  In that respect Harry pulls a Jane Eyre.  Jane Eyre has had a horrible life full of loneliness and adversity- but in the end she has a family, friends, and a husband who is her mental equal.