Sunday, February 15, 2009

Prom


The other day, I was at Wegman's and stopped to flip
through an issue of TeenProm. I know it's pathetic but
I couldn't help myself from stopping and flipping through
glossy pages full of gorgeous/unaffordable dresses full
of layers and layers of tule and satin - every girl's dream.
It's the hype of May, the preparations that go into getting
ready for the most important night of any teen girl's high school
year - Prom. I remember sitting in study hall with my friends,
discussing what color dresses we were looking at and
hoping our parents would buy. Many girls
began hitting the UV beds way in advance just so they would
have the "perfect tan" - okay. I'll admit it. I was guilty of it, too.
I can't help but put myself back in time and think
about what it was like being a senior in high school.
I hated it. I couldn't wait for it to be over, but I loved prom.
I loved and still love the dress my mom spent more money
on than her own wedding dress in 1983.
It's a cream colored two piece gown of several layers of rouged satin
on the bottom piece with a haltered top/bodice.
I still feel guilty for the fact that she ever even considered
paying that much money on it. I always wonder if
someday I can pay her back.
Okay, I can't lie. I put it on tonight lol.
I had been thinking about it for a while and
I am still so in love with it that I had to try it on.
Tada! It still fits after all these years. lol. It's been 3 hahaha.
Some would say that the underlying message in this post
is the fact that I have a terrible yearning to go back to
high school. That couldn't be further from the truth.
However, I continue to wonder every day if I'm growing
up too fast. As a 20 year old junior in college, I find myself
wondering where all the time has gone. Does the world
really expect me to have a real job at the ripe old age of 21?
How terrifying. I'm scared. It's true.
I don't want to grow up yet.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Valkyrie

Ever since grade school, the topic of World War II has fascinated me.
Naturally, I figured the just released Tom Cruise movie Valkyrie would be amazing.
Eh. It was forgettable. The entire movie was based on the German soldiers and what
went on behind the scenes in the mid 1940's. Perhaps because everyone knows
what went on in Hitler's concentration camps during WWII directors decided to leave
footage out of Jews going through hell on earth, but I feel it has everything to do
with the time period and topic of the movie. I found it hard to take Cruise
seriously after his part in Tropic Thunder this summer with all of its comical props
and humorous scenes. Throughout the sequence of Valkyrie Cruise wears an eye
patch and carries a glass eye with him everywhere he goes, all while only surviving
with one arm and two fingers on his left hand.I don't mean to
downplay war injuries. I realize they are a serious issue. I just found it a bit overdone.
The actor who played Hitler did a phenomenal job. It was a truly eerie
comparison. Hitler was hardly ever shown, and when he was his resemblance
was a spot-on match to the pictures shown in hisotory books and movies. The
filming aspect was phenomenal. It's Cruise I can't get over.
Maybe it's the fact that Hollywood likes to poke fun at him and wife Katie
Holmes, or perhaps it's the fact that in every picture of him Cruise has that
cheesy smile. I just was not impressed with Valkyrie at all.
I give it 1 star.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Dreams


I awoke the other night in the middle of a dream that I was about to move back into the house I originally grew up in. It was one of the best dreams of my entire life but in the middle of the night I couldn't help but wish it were true. How many people still live in the houses they grew up in? Does anyone else feel this same longing?
In my life, I have lived in 4 different houses, and 4 different apartments. Never has it been harder for me to leave any of them than it was to leave the house I lived and did most of my growing up in in Frewsburg, NY. It was a small three bedroom ranch with one bathroom. In the back was roughly an acre of land to play in and the very back and right sides were lined with pine trees that we used to crawl under and make bets as to who could actually climb to the very top of one. No one ever tried. My sister, Chelsea, and I both had our own maple trees that we would climb on summer days/nights and hide in during hide and seek. If you climbed close to the very top of Chelsea's tree you could watch the sun set in an opening of the leaves. On the other side of the pine trees were miles and miles of corn field. It seemed like miles and miles because it took forever to get to the other side. In actuality the entire length of the corn field was probably half a mile; a thousand miles to a 7-year-old.
The other day in the apartment I live in now, I was in the kitchen and I looked down at the floor tiles. For some reason I was hit with a wave of nostolgia but couldn't figure out why. After a couple of days spent mulling it over, I realized that the tiles in my apartment now are the same tiles that lined the floor of the first house's basement. Tiles that we tap-danced on. Tiles that we would slide on in our socks. And the carpet? It was this outrageous orange/red that somehow worked with the wooden paneling that lined the walls of most 90's homes.
Something that I think fondly of about sometimes is the land we played on. The big field that belonged to the people that lived on the corner of Frew Run and Carrol that never minded the hours we spent playing kickball in their field. The field that hosted a tree that dropped mysteriously huge seeds that no one could open. I can still smell them, green and potent, falling in the late summer. The field where Janelle kicked Jared in the testicles in third grade. The field everyone would meet at at the end of the school year to discuss who their teacher would be for the following fall. "You got Mrs. 'so and so'?! I heard she's got a knife in her desk and she smokes in the bathroom!!" God, what I would give to go back for just one day.
When I was 9, we moved to North Carolina and I haven't seen the house for a couple of years. I would give almost anything to own that house or visit it, or spend a day in it, though it wouldn't be the same. It never is. The only thing that ever stays the same in this world is change.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Nakedness


Unlike a dog, how can a turtle ever be naked?
Nakedness involves a state of mind in which an organism feels comfortable (or embarassed) in its own skin. This can even occur with clothes on, or when not in possession of something which ensures comfort. i.e. I feel naked without my phone. A turtle would be naked without a shell.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Haunted Houses; Why so Thrilling?


Haunted houses. You know the drill. Driving to that suburban or rural fire department, haunted house hot-spot that supposedly is the best haunted house in the whole area, with your friends or significant other. On the way, there is talk about how scary it's going to be and how terrified you hope to become. What an oxymoron. Who would ever want to be scared? And, what makes haunted houses so enticing?

It's a thrill similar to horror movies. It seems as though most studies have shown that people enjoy that the horror ends in relief due to the fact that what they've experienced hasn't truly happened.

According to sciencedaily.com, investigators generally use one of two theories to explain why people like horror movies and haunted houses. The first is that the person is not actually afraid, but excited by the horror. The second explanation is that they are willing to endure the terror in order to enjoy a euphoric sense of relief at the end. But, a new study by Eduardo Andrade (University of California, Berkeley) and Joel B. Cohen (University of Florida) appearing in the August issue of the Journal of Consumer Research argues that neither of these theories is correct.

The authors argue that horror movie viewers are happy to be unhappy. This novel approach to emotion reveals that people experience both negative and positive emotions simultaneously -- people may actually enjoy being scared, not just relief when the threat is removed. As the authors put it, "the most pleasant moments of a particular event may also be the most fearful."
Andrade and Cohen developed and utilize a new methodology to track negative and positive feelings at the same time. Their method could apply to other experiences that seem to elicit terror, risk, or disgust, such as extreme sports.
"When individuals who typically choose to avoid the stimuli were embedded in a protective frame of mind, such that there was sufficient psychological disengagement or detachment, they experienced positive feelings while still experiencing fearfulness," the authors claim.

This would explain why we enjoy haunted houses so much. There is a pleasant relief after experiencing fake terror. Last night, two of my roommates and some friends of ours went to two separate haunted houses, the Belle Valley Fire Department's haunted house, and the Wesleyville Halls of Fear. Belle Valley's was scary due to the fact that the halls were extremely narrow and we never knew what to expect or where we were headed. It was so scary, but as we made our way through, screaming and terrified out of our minds by the actors and props, I experienced an adrenalin rush like I've never felt before. And after, I laughed.

Next, we went to Wesleyville. It didn't even compare to Belle Valley, perhaps because we knew what we were in for. Still, I found myself laughing uncontrollably after the relief. It's amazing how good it feels to sense those emotions. So, I suggest Belle Valley for a good scare, but bring a friend. And if you really want to be freaked out, try Conneaut Lake's 8-story haunted house. I hear attendees must tour it by themselves, and aren't allowed to bring an acquaintance...

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Depression

It was about a year ago that it began for me. Sophomore year of college. I was ready for anything, or so I thought. Little did I know that I was about to be hit hard with the reality of a disease I knew I'd been battling my entire life. It can come out of nowhere, and it can go in spurts; Depression.
"I am not depressed."
It's a phrase I kept saying over and over again. I kept trying to convince myself that it wasn't real and there wasn't anything wrong with me and that it would pass. And then, I hit rock bottom. It happens every day to millions of Americans across the nation. Some deal with it and get help, and some don't.
According to PBS.org, major depression affects approximately 15 million American adults ages 18 and over every year, and women experience depression about twice as often as men.
Though sometimes it doesn't feel like it, a depressed person is not alone.
I was there. I said that no one understood and no one ever would, and it's true that no one can experience what you are feeling, but the fact that you are feeling it doesn't mean that no one else is.
It's like being physically sick. Where do you go? The doctor.
Where do you go when you are mentally sick? The doctor.
Getting help is the first step, and it does take alot to admit that you're having problems. Everyone wants to believe that everything will be okay, and it's true: everything will be okay. That's what getting help is about.
Roughly 80% of people experiencing depression are not currently receiving treatment (pbs.org). Think about it. Of the 15 million Americans that do get help, there are still so many out there that aren't being treated.
When I hit rock bottom, I knew it and I knew something was wrong. I knew I had to talk to someone, and I did. I talked to my best friend at the time for about 5 hours in the crisp fall air on a bench in the middle of Mercyhurst and she encouraged me to go to the health center, which is free (helloooo). I remember bawling at 5 in the morning, thinking to myself, how can things get worse?
After getting help and talking to someone professionally, I began to improve. I'm also on an anti-depressant called Paxil which really helps things alot.
The purpose of this post is to help people realize that it's okay to admit you have a problem. I used to think to myself, "I have a great life and I have nothing to be sad about. Why do I feel this way?"
There is nothing you can do about a chemical imbalance. Sometimes the only place to turn is medicine, therapy and counseling, and look at the improvements in medical technology today. We live in an amazing country and those of you who attend Mercyhurst should be aware that the Cohen Student Health Center is an amazing facility that exists for a reason other than physical needs.
Don't let depression bother you for another minute if it's something you're dealing with. You're not alone, and people are here to help you. Talk to a friend, a parent, a teacher.. anyone who will hear you out, listen, and encourage you. It's okay. Things are going to be okay.
Hold on.

Thursday, October 2, 2008