My Year of Almost No Shaving

Confession time: Today I shaved my legs for the first time in about a year.

If that makes you physically ill, then I advise you to just stop reading because it won't get any better from here.

That's right. About a year ago, while furiously shaving all the hair from my legs, I came to two big realizations: 1). Hair doesn't really bother me and 2). I HATE shaving. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. These realizations really confused me. Why was I spending so much time doing something that I dreaded for results that never impressed me?

From here I started to do some math, calculating all the time I wasted while dutifully grooming just my body hair. Here is my thought process: If it takes me twenty minutes to shave my legs, armpits, and bikini line (which is a moderate estimate), then that means I was spending about an hour a week (four hours a month, or 48 hours a year) doing something that only upset me.

That's two days out of the year I spent battling the natural state of my body in order to be deemed more acceptable to others. And it's a lot more time for some women who decide to shave every part of their body from the eyebrow down every day.

This struck me as ridiculous. What things could I have spent doing instead? Reading a book, listening to music, spending time with loved ones-- all these options sounded better to me. So why was I taking part in this ritual?

I think I started shaving in middle school. I vaguely remember being teased at swim practice by both girls and boys about my fuzzy legs. Embarrassed and ashamed, that night I went home, locked the bathroom door, took my mom's razor, and shaved my legs for the first time.

Because I was too afraid to ask anybody for help, I did a terrible job and ended up cutting myself a lot. I wonder what percentage of girls have a similar story to mine. I'd be willing to wager money that most girls only took up shaving after being teased by someone in their lives.

I went throughout high school and college shaving a few times a week. After I graduated college, I started questioning my reasoning for continuing on with something that I viewed as a waste of time.

And that catches us up to about a year ago, when I decided to give it up. Or at least I decided to never shave out of a duty to other people. I spent a year only shaving out of choice, which meant that I never ended up shaving my legs.

So how did people react to my year of almost no shaving? Well, I honestly think that most people had no idea. My clothes covered it up for the most part; I didn't flaunt it in everybody's faces. A few close friends commented on my hairy legs, some positively and some a little more negatively.

I had some friends who thought it was a cool test for me, but that they could never do it personally because their body hair was much thicker, darker, longer, etc. One or two physically recoiled when I showed them. I had a friend's mom tell me that they looked like "man legs," which was funny because I was 100% still a woman.

It's amazing how taboo body hair has become to our society. A large majority of the women I've talked to about body hair have argued that the point of feminism is that women have the opportunity to choose whatever they want to do with their bodies, and I absolutely agree with this. If shaving honestly makes you happier, then I have no qualms with your choice.

However, I think it's still important to question our reasoning for doing certain things. I'm not sure that women who were "choosing" to shave every day actually felt like they had a choice. Is it actually making a unbiased decision when the two options are either 1). Remove your body hair and be approved by our society or 2). Don't remove it and be on the receiving end of ridicule?

I just want women to understand that our "choices" aren't happening in a vacuum. Like I said, I'm pretty sure preteen girls aren't just waking up one day and thinking, "You know, I'd really like to take a sharp razor and remove all my body hair today."

We all make daily choices about our appearances, and I don't want to suggest that women who decide to shave (wear heels, put on make up, wear dresses, etc.) are being bad feminists. I just want to expose the fact that sometimes the choices we make as women contribute to that status quo, and therefore make it more difficult for the women on the other end whose appearances vary from what our society has deemed as "beautiful" and "feminine."

Once we start asking ourselves WHY we do the things we do, we can start to move towards changing things, so that one day little girls can feel comfortable just being who they are (hairy legs and all).

Fast forward to today, when I broke down and shaved my legs. I wish I could say that I came to a brilliant and beautiful realization about my body hair, but I haven't yet.

I still abhor shaving. However, I'm going to be in my friend's wedding wearing a dress, so of course I broke down and shaved. I understand that this makes me a hypocrite, and that's why I decided to write this. Because even though, deep down, I know that I shouldn't let society's standards dictate the choices I make about my body and how I feel about myself, they almost always creep back into my brain and make me question everything.

One day I'll get there, one day.

I guess I should resolve to do things now.

Hello readers! Weird. When I imagined the year 2015, I figured that we'd at least have individual jetpacks by now. Alas, we continue to rely on cars and buses. I'll cross my fingers for next year.

I'm not a huge fan of New Years Resolutions. You know, that time before midnight when your drunk friend leans over and says, "That's it, I'm joining a gym tomorrow!" Or, "This time I'm really going to talk to her/him!" Or, "On Monday, I'm going to march up to my boss and tell him/her that he/she can stick it where the sun don't shine…"

In these cases, I usually just smile and nod at said friend. Who knows, maybe they will wake up tomorrow completely rejuvenated and follow through with their promises. Unfortunately, it's more likely that they'll wake up completely naked, on the couch, with a noisemaker hanging out of their mouth, and a puke bucket next to them. They will also probably not remember much about the past night, much less their "New Years Resolutions."

The truth is, not a lot of people actually stick to what they resolve to do in those few minutes leading up to midnight on New Years Eve (while simultaneously searching for somebody kiss-worthy, who preferably has a plethora of chap stick, breath mints, and a 401K). High five for that adult reference!

I'm going to put this out there: I don't think that we should feel guilty about not sticking to our New Years Resolutions. In fact, this year I resolved to forgo said resolutions entirely. Instead, I decided that I would reflect on some of the good/bad things that happened in 2014 that made it a year to remember.

Here we go!

Here are a few milestones from my year: I graduated from college. I quit a job that made me unhappy. I adopted a cat. I was hired as a writer at a local newspaper (and had 3 cover stories!). I read books and was hired at a used bookstore. I binge-watched Parks and Recreation, Portlandia, and Sherlock. I pierced my ears. I bought many pairs of shoes. I went to plays and movies. I took a painting class (even though I sucked at it). I was turned down for a job that I really wanted. I attended Comic Con for the first time. I went to Oktoberfest. I danced badly and sang loudly at concerts. I hiked. I interacted with friends, family, and strangers. So many cups of coffee.

Some of those probably seem more momentous than others, but each played a vital role in making my year what it was: pretty alright.

What about you guys? Feel free to share some of the moments from your life that happened in 2014 to make it a year for the books.

BYE!

My first (and last) pair of heels

Hello reader(s)!

I have a confession…

*Clears throat*

I don't own a single pair of heels.

I will now allow you some space to organize your thoughts and feelings about my revelation.

…

…

…

…

Good? Alright.

Back to my post.

I owned one pair of heels in my entire life. Let me set the scene. It was the day before I started fourth grade. My mom took me back to school shopping. I decided that I had to have a pair of clog-like shoes (for a lack of a better description) that had higher heels than any of the other shoes in my closet.

My mom said no.

I begged and pleaded.

She still said no.

I asked why.

She told me that she didn't want me to hurt myself trying to walk in them to class or at recess. I crossed my heart and promised that I would be super careful when walking in them.

She bought them for me.

A few weeks later, I was running down a hill at recess wearing my beloved high-heeled shoes. I fell and twisted my ankle pretty badly. I had to be sent home from school.

Waiting in the principal's office for  my mom to pick me up, I frowned at my high-heeled monstrosities. How could they betray me?

My mom was right, but I didn't want her to be angry at me. Also, even though I was harboring ill feelings towards them at the time, I really didn't want her to take away my new shoes.

So I lied.

When my mom arrived to pick me up and asked me what happened, I told her that someone had tripped me while I was running at recess. Then she got upset because she thought that I meant that this person had tripped me on purpose. I assured her that it was an accidental tripping and that the perpetrator had apologized profusely. She seemed to accept my lie.

But it gets worse.

Then she took me to the doctor's office to get my ankle looked at, and I had to lie to the doctor too. It was terrible. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm crap at lying… My fourth-grade self was humiliated and full of guilt. Why didn't I just tell the truth?

I let my guilt fester for another few weeks, until I had finally had enough. Late one night, I heard my mom get out of bed and go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I threw off my covers and went to the kitchen to confess to my crimes.

I told her that I had really tripped over my new heels at recess. She was more angry that I had lied to her, but she took it well (it was pretty late at night). I apologized over and over for lying, and we hugged.

I never wore those shoes again, and to this day, I have never purchased another pair of high-heeled shoes. I don't think there is really a moral to that story, and I don't think me choosing not to wear heels now is really even related to it. It's just a funny story that I think about when I'm choosing what shoes to wear each day.

I ask myself: Would I be able to run down a hill in these?

Here are my real reasons:

I don't wear heels because when I've tried I look like Bambi trying to walk on ice for the first time.

I don't wear heels because I think they're uncomfortable.

I don't wear heels because I'm already pretty tall and I don't want to hit my head on anything.

I don't wear heels because Vans. Duh.

I don't wear heels because I like to walk in my own unique way.

I don't wear heels because they're loud.

I don't wear heels because I don't want to…

I feel like I should stress that I'm not writing this post to mock the girls (more graceful than myself) who choose to wear heels. They are your feet; put whatever you want on them.

Instead, I wanted to write it so that the girls like my fourth-grade self know that it's okay to not wear what other people deem "sexy" or "popular."

After all, no one ever twisted their ankle running down a hill wearing beat up sneakers.

(My last statement is 100% unverified. I'm sure that there are actually people around the world who could quickly disprove it. Please don't send me pictures…)

Alright, I'm done.
Goodnight!

The true life of the recently graduated

I graduated from the University of Utah this past summer, and, like most of my fellow graduates, I was filled with a slew of emotions that ranged from pure joy to unadulterated terror.

Don't get me wrong, I was happy to be done, but also nervous to actually do something besides school with my life. I went from middle school to high school to college without any time in between, so what was I supposed to do without school?

I was proud of what I had accomplished, but being done with my Undergrad career was a strange feeling.

When school started up again this past month, I felt odd. I won't lie. I felt like I should have been packing my back pack, buying overpriced textbooks, and complaining about parking along with the rest of the returning students.

To counter that feeling, I decided to create this list of the highs and lows associated with recently graduating from college. If you are in my same position, then I hope you can relate to some of them. If not, then I hope you can at least chuckle.

High #1: Sleeping in past 10 a.m.

In high school, I woke up every morning at 6:30 in order to be to school at around 7:30. So when I first entered college, I though 7:30 classes were totally doable.

I was wrong. After my first semester, I never made that mistake again.

Luckily, not having school means not waking up early to make it to campus. It means not frantically searching to find a parking spot (before inevitably giving up and parking in the pay lots). It means not speed walking to class like Hal from Malcolm in the Middle (If you don't get this reference, then you should YouTube it).

Staying up late is another benefit of not having morning classes. Hello 3 a.m.

Low #1: Missing out on classes that sound really interesting

Like a true nerd, I looked at some of the classes being offered this fall semester, and I was a little sad that I wouldn't be able to take any of them.

I also talked with some of my friends about their favorite professors and realized that I hadn't had many of them. I wish I would have tried to take more classes out of curiosity instead of just trying to fulfill the mandatory credits.

Don't get me wrong, I had many professors that I loved! But when I hear about other professors winning teaching awards and such, I'm a bit blue that I didn't take their classes as well.

High #2: Finally being able to read books that I WANT to read.

This one is pretty self-explanatory. I have a bookshelf crammed full of books that I need to read, and after I graduated, I found myself having more time to check a few of them off the list.

Low #2: Not seeing friends every day

At school and in classes, people are forced to interact with you every day whether they like it or not. After you graduate, it's much more difficult to get together with friends who are still in school. Their schedules are crazy. Your schedule is pretty hectic (because you still have work). It's not impossible, and those that care will make time to hang out. It's just less of a convenience.

High #3: Narrowing down what you want to do as a career

(This can also double nicely as Low #3)

It's exhilarating to be in a stage of life where you can almost do anything. Want to travel? You can. Want to work? You can. Want to continue with school? Heck, you can do that too. There are so many paths that you can travel down as a recent graduate, which makes the world seem very large (and sometimes very imposing).

I used this as low #3 because, while it can be exciting, it is also exhausting. And scary. And confusing. And scary.

When you get close to graduating, people begin to ask you the unavoidable question: What are you planning on doing after?

After? What do you mean? Can I not just sit in my pajamas and get paid to eat cereal and watch re-runs of Portlandia and Sherlock?

And they expect an immediate answer because in between classes, tests, essays, extracurriculars (and friends, if you can pencil them in), of course I found time to plan my entire future…

However, you can have fun with these people. I enjoyed countering their question with, "Well, what do you have planned for the rest of your life?"

That usually shuts them up.

But, in the back of you mind, you know that you will have to figure it all out eventually.

Or maybe you won't have to have it all figured out…

Maybe it's acceptable to take things as they come. I truly believe that those who have the right attitude, a strong work ethic, and a passion for something (anything!) will figure life out along the way.

My biggest piece of advice to those nearing graduation: don't compromise anything about your dreams to "fit in" better with what other people are accomplishing.

If you want to be an opera singer, do it. If you want to play third base for the Red Sox, do it. If you want to be the first person to complete a solo flight across the Atlantic.. well you might be too late, but you get my point.

I graduated, but that doesn't mean that I'm done learning. And it doesn't mean that my life is totally in order. I don't think that I will ever have things completely figured out, and I'm okay with that.

Signs that you might have a book addiction

You guys, it has been so long since I have posted anything on here. I feel like such a slacker. I could make up a slew of excuses, but I'm just going to get to the new post.

I will try to be better.

Anyways, I really love to read. So here are five signs you might be a book-aholic:

1. You have to stack books on top of books in your book shelf in order to fit all of them. It's like a life-size game of Jenga. And by life-size I mean book-size. You stack them up, and when you want to get one down to read, you have to nudge it extremely carefully so that you don't knock the rest over.

Gathering books has become such a reflex that the people close to you tease you about it. It isn't mean spirited teasing (or maybe it is… I don't know the people you hang around with), but every Christmas (or birthday, or any other gift giving holiday, or even just a Tuesday) when you ask for a book, you hear, "Do you really need more books?"

That's like asking me if I need more air.

2. You make literary jokes/references that none of your friends understand. The other day at work I had to explain one of my hilarious literary jokes to everyone, which automatically kills it. It's unfortunate because, like I said, it was pretty gosh darn funny.

It has become such a problem that I now follow up any literary joke with, "Just a little literary humor for you."

You also notice references in everyday life that you enjoy pointing out. I do it with music. I find immense pleasure in turning down the tunes and explaining the literary sources behind the lyrics. Especially with Shakespeare. It drives people nuts.

3.  You spend a large majority of your time in a library or bookstore. When I was little, my mother took me to the Sandy Library almost every week. She let me free, and I wandered through all the shelves for hours. To me, it wasn't just a place with old, dusty books. It was an opportunity to grow and develop my breadth of knowledge.

I read books on a range of topics when I was younger. A few of my favorites were sharks, penguins, lions, grammar (yes, I'm serious), musicians, and a bunch of fiction. So. Much. Fiction.

I also have the barcode on my library card memorized because I lost it forever ago and still wanted to be able to check out books. The librarians look at me like I have a photographic memory every time I recite it for them to punch in. I don't-- I just know what's important.

If you're like me, then chances are the librarians at your local library are familiar with you too. Some can even greet you by name. Creepy, but flattering.

4.  Some of your favorite vacation memories are from visiting amazing libraries and bookstores. Take for instance, Powell's Books in Portland. I have to make a stop there every time I go.

And don't get me started on the bookstores in London. Charing Cross Rd. Look it up. The bookstores in London were truly remarkable, and like a true book nerd, they made my list of my top favorite memories from my study abroad last year.

5.  When someone asks you what your favorite novel is, you wince inside. Especially if they aren't a fellow book fanatic.

Don't get me wrong, I can come up with one to appease people, but narrowing down every book I've ever read to just one is such a painful process. It's like trying to choose your favorite star in the sky, or your favorite note in a song.

Alright, that's my list!

Let me know if I missed any.

Without music, life would be a mistake

I love music.

I listen to it in the car.
I listen to it while doing homework.
I listen to it when I get ready.

I listen to it a lot.

And if I'm not listening to something, then chances are I'm singing. Loud and obnoxiously.

I sing in the car.
I sing while doing homework.
I sing in the shower and while getting ready.

I sing a lot.

Sometimes I sing when I don't even know the correct lyrics. I spent a solid couple months singing the song "Trojans," by Atlas Genius as "Trout Guns." I couldn't make this up.

I think it might be a genetic condition because my brother sang the song "My Maria" as "Margarita" for at least a couple of years.

Anyways, last month-ish I did a post about songs that I hated. I figured that I should do a post about music that I like, so I can be more positive… or something like that.

Here it goes:

1).  The song "Head Full of Doubt/ Road Full of Promises" by the Avett Brothers

This song is one of my favorites! I listen to it a lot. I think it's beautiful and thoughtful and peaceful. My favorite line is, "Decide what to be and go be it." This line is awesome because it makes me feel like I can become anything that I set my mind to. A rock star perhaps?

2).  The Beatles

People who don't like the Beatles baffle me. Their music is both fun and introspective, which is always a powerful combination. Some of my favorite songs are "Love Me Do," "Yesterday," and "While My Guitar Gently Weeps." I think my love of the Beatles stems from the days when my dad would break out his vinyl albums, and we would listen to them together. I always felt that he was happy that I liked music that he liked.

Plus, I got to walk across Abby Road when I was in London.

3).  The entire album "O" by Damien Rice

He is Irish. If that's not enough for you, then I don't know what to say. Actually I do. His songs are beautiful, and his lyrics are heartfelt. And he plays guitar, piano, clarinet and percussion. All his talents make me really question what I'm doing with my life.

I especially love the songs "Delicate" and "Cannonball."

4).  The album "Enema of the State" by Blink 182

This was one of the first albums that I bought with my own money when I was around twelve, so it will always hold a special place in my heart. Plus, it's just a really great album.

I dare you to not sing "What's My Age Again?" and "All the Small Things" at the top of your lungs. I bet you can't do it.

5).  The album "Hot Fuss" by the Killers

While I appreciate all their albums, "Hot Fuss" is one album that I can remember listening to at all stages in my life. I truly feel like Jenny is a friend of mine (see what I did there).

I know all the lyrics to "Mr. Brightside" and "Somebody Told Me," and I had a childhood crush on Brandon Flowers.

6).  Pretty much anything by Justin Timberlake

Some would call this a guilty pleasure, but I hate that term. I don't feel guilty at all about loving Justin Timberlake. His music epitomized middle school for me, and I still firmly believe that "SexyBack" is one of the best songs ever. Take that.

His new album is also pretty epic. Go check it out if you haven't already.

To add to his resume, he is hilarious on SNL, a great dancer, an actor, and best friends with Jimmy Fallon. (Search Youtube for History of Rap if you don't believe me on the last one).

7).  The album "Sigh No More" by Mumford & Sons

I love this band, and I think that this album was better than their second one. They are adorable, British, and fun to watch perform. They also have songs that quote Shakespeare, which is always a good way to win my affections.

8).  The song "Bitter Heart" by Mason Jennings

I love Mason Jennings. A co-worker introduced me to his music, and in a few weeks I was hooked. His songs are simple and beautiful. "Bitter Heart" is a great example. It is just him and the piano, and I love it!

He has a lot of great songs: "Raindrop on the Kitchen Floor," "Be Here Now," "Instrument," and "The Field."

9).  Anything and everything by the National

I have every album by the National, and it is very hard to decide which one is my favorite. Their lyrics are poetic and their music makes you think. I love the songs "All the Wine," "Mistaken for Strangers," "Fake Empire," "Terrible Love," "England."

Their newest album "Trouble Will Find Me" is also amazing! I won't list out all the tracks on it that I love because it's pretty much all of them.

10). The song "Love Is All" by the Tallest Man on Earth

Just a really beautifully poignant song. Also, I have an affinity for singers with unique voices, and he definitely fits that description.

Well, that's my list. Sorry it's so long. Let me know what you think!

Frankenstein's monster just needs a hug

Good evening/morning cyberweb! I'm really not sure why I'm even still awake, but I figured that, as long as I was up, I would try to post something.

I'm reading "Frankenstein," by Mary Shelley for my advanced seminar. I've read it multiple times before, but it's one of those novels that I could read over and over and continually discover some new angle or insight. In short, if you haven't read it, read it. That was fun to type.

And no, watching the movie adaptations doesn't count. Surprisingly, Scooby and his band of misfit friends were not involved in the original story line. Neither were Alvin and the Chipmunks. And don't even get me started on the newest movie, "I, Frankenstein." Hint: In Shelley's version, there were no gargoyles, nobody can fly, and I guarantee that, even with Hollywood's help, the creature would never resemble Aaron Eckhart. Ever.

Anyways, before telling you about my favorite aspects of the novel I wanted to debunk a few misconceptions about the myth of Frankenstein's monster.

1). The monster's name isn't Frankenstein. Dr. Victor Frankenstein is the name of the creature's creator. The monster doesn't actually have a name, although Shelley does call him by a few nasty pet names such as fiend, demon, and wretch.

2). The monster isn't horrendously ugly, with green skin, and bolts protruding from his neck. I don't mean to suggest that the creature could win an Aaron Eckhart look-alike contest. I'm just saying that the Halloween pictures we colored for our parents back in second grade didn't do the monster any justice.

In fact, Shelley says that his "limbs were in proportion, and [Dr. Frankenstein] had selected his features as beautiful" (35). She goes on to write that the perfection of the monster's dark hair and white teeth only "created a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes" (ibid).

He's not hideously grotesque.

3). The monster isn't an unintelligent oaf. It is true that at first he doesn't comprehend or grasp his existence or the world around him. It is also true that he doesn't speak or read in the beginning, but it's hard to hold this against him. It took nearly 20 years for my brother to learn to put the toilet seat down, and he still struggles with that task. Compared to him, the creature learns at an incredible rate.

The creature spends time watching a family of peasants from a safe distance, and, from them, he eventually learns to speak, read, and identify his emotions. In fact, the creature exhibits incredible sensitivity and intelligence.

He reads Plutarch, Goethe, and Milton for god's sake. You know what they say about a well-read monster…. I'm not sure where I'm going with that.

I think my favorite aspect of the novel is the humanness of the creature. "Frankenstein" isn't really a horror story about a lunatic monster intent on destroying people and villages. The novel examines what it means to be human, and reflects on how dangerous the pursuit of knowledge can be.

The creature only kills after he's rejected by society. Mull that over for a bit.

In the end, Frankenstein's creature isn't a heartless killing machine. All he wants is a partner to spend his life with so that he feels like he belongs somewhere. Hmm... now there's a familiar story.

I think that he is just a lonely monster in need of a hug. And maybe some eye drops.