Here’s what I know about the realm of possibility—it is always expanding, it is never what you think it is. Everything around us was once deemed impossible. From the airplane overhead to the phones in our pockets to the choir girl putting her arm around the metalhead. As hard as it is for us to see sometimes, we all exist within the realm of possibility. Most of the limits are of our own world’s devising. And yet, every day we each do so many things that were once impossible to us.
-David Levithan
Monday, March 12, 2007
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Self-Image and Antonella Barba
I'm one of those people who has refined the art of intro-posts. However, since I also fully expect no one will actually read this, I'm plunging right into it and telling the rest of you who stumbled onto this to read my info.
That being said, my reality TV drug of choice is American Idol. Don't worry now, ladies and germs, I'm not going to be re-capping every episode and bitching about the fabulous singer (are there any this year? Well...yes, there are a handful of them, and almost all women. However, in the spirit of Catholic superstition, I'm not mentioning any names. I'm sure you'll be able to deduce who I love without voters smiting my choices.) getting kicked off instead of that wretched waste of television space...oh fuck it-Nicole, Leslie, and Antonella. Sniping about a dumbass reality TV results show is reserved for LJ, after all, no matter how it infuriates me that more people voted for those dumbass reality TV shows than in the last presidential race. But I digress.
Watching the results show last night, I can't honestly say I was surprised "America" voted off. Paul? Wasn't terribly good, but I would have been willing to give him another shot next week. Rudy? Better than some of the guys who did stay (Hello, Chris Richardson). Amy? I actually liked her. Nicole? Definitely deserved to go away and WHY didn't they keep Anna?
This brings me to two singers, one previous contestant and one current contestant, both of which are bad. Of course, I’m talking about Mikalah Gordon and Antonella Barba.
On Mikalah's blog (in a very childish script, I might add) she breaks down the top 24 and who got kicked off, but didn't appear to even try to be intelligent about it. There is also a nifty feature where people can comment and you have no idea who they are, save for an online handle, or maybe a first name. That being said, I don't know who this person is, but I feel sorry for them. Quoted verbatim from http://www.tvsquad.com/2007/02/15/antonella-and-sundance-get-lucky-in-hollywood/#c3424594, I bring you this sad piece:
"Antonella Barba is the most beautiful girl in the world. I wish I looked like her. If I did I wouldn't hate myslef and all of my problems would be over. She is so lucky , why couldn't God make me beautiful like her. I watch her because I just pray that one day I will be reincarnated to look like her. Until then I will just live in depression until I die. Face it the only reason why she is in the competion is because she is tall and drop dead gorgeous."
-Kay
First of all, how old is this woman? She can’t spell, has poor grammar, and doesn’t watch TV. If she had, or even once laid eyes on Natalie Portman, she would know there are much more beautiful, more accomplished women in the world than a bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. And I would know-I'm from the very same, very tiny, seashore tourist town in Jersey as Antonella. Therefore, I am allowed to call her a bitch from Jersey, because that is exactly what she is. She is exactly the sort of person who makes the rest of us look bad. WE'RE NOT ALL LIKE THAT. I promise-and I would know. That is all Antonella Barba is. She’s an ugly bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. If you value physical beauty that much and feel you need to emulate someone physically beautiful who has actually done good things for the world, there so many other beautiful women who are better options for role models. Like Natalie Portman.
I’ve read both women and men feel intimidated by attractive women. Women get jealous that they aren't Natalie Portman (for example) or for some God forsaken reason Antonella Barba. You’re much more likely to be approached in a bar if you look more like the girl next door than a super model. From what I hear, your problems don't end when you're a model beauty. They multiply. So count your blessings, woman.
I like women, I have had relationships with women, and it is a well documented fact I sleep with women. This being said, I wouldn’t sleep with Antonella Barba if she was the last woman on earth. Why? She isn’t attractive. She is, as I’ve said, an ugly bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. You know which Idol girl I would sleep with if I had half a chance? Gina Glocksen. Why? She exudes everything that I find attractive in a woman-she seems bright, funny, strong, down to earth, and confidant about who she is. Oh-and she’s not bad to look at, either. General consensus might not consider her ‘drop dead gorgeous’ but I think she’s the easily the most physically beautiful woman in the competition. That is what I call sexy. Oh. Another reason Gina Glocksen is so much sexier than Antonella? She has some meat on her bones and isn't a toothpick. I don’t date toothpicks and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to sleep with one.
I'm one of the lucky ones, I guess. I've never given a damn about what anyone thought of me, or worried about what I was supposed to do. I was more than content in forging my own path and choose my loves based on who they were and not what everyone around me thought about them. I was a rare girl who wasn't influenced in the least by what the other girls were doing. All through school, I liked history, music, and football. I still do. When I (very quickly) discovered the girls were all about clothes, hair, and makeup, I went right on being a fashion victim and made friends with the boys, who shared my interests. I knew those girls weren't who I wanted to be. I wanted to be smart. I didn't want to be a Barbie. To some degree, I think they were jealous...jealous that I knew who I was, I knew they weren't who I wanted to be, and I wasn't willing to conform to have friends. I made lasting friendships among the boys who accepted me for who I was. They didn't care how badly I dressed, they cared if I knew the score of last night's game or saw a particular documentary on the History Channel the previous night. And I did. Needless to say, I was never popular, and I never aspired to be. I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd been fake. I was completely me, and I didn't care who thought what about it. I carry this major tenant to my philosophy to this day.
When I was in high school, I felt a connection to this one girl in particular. I liked her because she cared even less than I did, and we were very close friends. Close friends who held hands in the hallway after school, and I didn't think anything of it and I wouldn't have cared if anyone HAD said something. Never mind I didn't know I liked women at that point in time, it really didn’t occur to me it was an option, even though I had a handful of gay guy-friends. Maybe if I hadn't been so sure of myself, maybe if I didn't like me so much, I wouldn't have held her hand in fear that someone might see. I may not have been totally clear on my true feelings for her, but I do know it would have been a betrayal of what I realize now was the true nature of our relationship. We were much more than friends in a time when I had no name for what I was, and I was scared of the feelings I couldn't place a name to. I ignored it. And our friendship ultimately paid the price, one of the few things I have ever regretted.
I know it takes a great deal of strength to say a big punk fuck you to social pressure, but it wasn't a big deal for me. I outright didn't care what anyone thought. I am what I am. I know who I am. I like me. I wish I knew more women who could say the same. Once in a while, I wonder about that bitch from the eighth grade, and what would happen if we ever saw each other again. Would she still call me a lesbian? Would she be jealous of my handsome boyfriend? I wonder if she ever found the strength to overcome her fears and insecurities about herself. I hope so, for her sake.
I was entirely unwilling to try to be something I wasn't, just to fit in and have friends. I had friends, good friends, some of whom I still have today. I've always had close relationships with guys because they were more ready to accept the fact that I didn't care about what I wore or how I acted. They cared weather or not I watched the football game or a documentary on TV. They cared if I was smart, and I could carry on a conversation about sports and history. I was, I could, and they liked me. Girls for me have always been much more complicated on a level I didn't understand. I didn't care they didn't like me because I refused to conform. I liked me, and that was all that mattered. I continue to have more male friends than female friends, but the few close women friends I have are girls like me-some are gay, some are straight, and some are in between. They all have one thing in common though-they refuse to be defined by what social order says they should be. They’re strong, confident, fiercely intelligent women, and I’m proud to be in each of their lives. It also reassured me that no, I wasn’t alone, that there were other girls like me.
I could go on for hours about the warped sense of self-image that a sickening number of girls have these days. Kay clearly wasn't as lucky as I was. Hopefully one day she'll wake up and realize that self-worth is so much more than looking like a fucking supermodel. Especially if that supermodel is an ugly bitch from Jersey.
-E.
That being said, my reality TV drug of choice is American Idol. Don't worry now, ladies and germs, I'm not going to be re-capping every episode and bitching about the fabulous singer (are there any this year? Well...yes, there are a handful of them, and almost all women. However, in the spirit of Catholic superstition, I'm not mentioning any names. I'm sure you'll be able to deduce who I love without voters smiting my choices.) getting kicked off instead of that wretched waste of television space...oh fuck it-Nicole, Leslie, and Antonella. Sniping about a dumbass reality TV results show is reserved for LJ, after all, no matter how it infuriates me that more people voted for those dumbass reality TV shows than in the last presidential race. But I digress.
Watching the results show last night, I can't honestly say I was surprised "America" voted off. Paul? Wasn't terribly good, but I would have been willing to give him another shot next week. Rudy? Better than some of the guys who did stay (Hello, Chris Richardson). Amy? I actually liked her. Nicole? Definitely deserved to go away and WHY didn't they keep Anna?
This brings me to two singers, one previous contestant and one current contestant, both of which are bad. Of course, I’m talking about Mikalah Gordon and Antonella Barba.
On Mikalah's blog (in a very childish script, I might add) she breaks down the top 24 and who got kicked off, but didn't appear to even try to be intelligent about it. There is also a nifty feature where people can comment and you have no idea who they are, save for an online handle, or maybe a first name. That being said, I don't know who this person is, but I feel sorry for them. Quoted verbatim from http://www.tvsquad.com/2007/02/15/antonella-and-sundance-get-lucky-in-hollywood/#c3424594, I bring you this sad piece:
"Antonella Barba is the most beautiful girl in the world. I wish I looked like her. If I did I wouldn't hate myslef and all of my problems would be over. She is so lucky , why couldn't God make me beautiful like her. I watch her because I just pray that one day I will be reincarnated to look like her. Until then I will just live in depression until I die. Face it the only reason why she is in the competion is because she is tall and drop dead gorgeous."
-Kay
First of all, how old is this woman? She can’t spell, has poor grammar, and doesn’t watch TV. If she had, or even once laid eyes on Natalie Portman, she would know there are much more beautiful, more accomplished women in the world than a bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. And I would know-I'm from the very same, very tiny, seashore tourist town in Jersey as Antonella. Therefore, I am allowed to call her a bitch from Jersey, because that is exactly what she is. She is exactly the sort of person who makes the rest of us look bad. WE'RE NOT ALL LIKE THAT. I promise-and I would know. That is all Antonella Barba is. She’s an ugly bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. If you value physical beauty that much and feel you need to emulate someone physically beautiful who has actually done good things for the world, there so many other beautiful women who are better options for role models. Like Natalie Portman.
I’ve read both women and men feel intimidated by attractive women. Women get jealous that they aren't Natalie Portman (for example) or for some God forsaken reason Antonella Barba. You’re much more likely to be approached in a bar if you look more like the girl next door than a super model. From what I hear, your problems don't end when you're a model beauty. They multiply. So count your blessings, woman.
I like women, I have had relationships with women, and it is a well documented fact I sleep with women. This being said, I wouldn’t sleep with Antonella Barba if she was the last woman on earth. Why? She isn’t attractive. She is, as I’ve said, an ugly bitch from Jersey who can’t sing. You know which Idol girl I would sleep with if I had half a chance? Gina Glocksen. Why? She exudes everything that I find attractive in a woman-she seems bright, funny, strong, down to earth, and confidant about who she is. Oh-and she’s not bad to look at, either. General consensus might not consider her ‘drop dead gorgeous’ but I think she’s the easily the most physically beautiful woman in the competition. That is what I call sexy. Oh. Another reason Gina Glocksen is so much sexier than Antonella? She has some meat on her bones and isn't a toothpick. I don’t date toothpicks and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to sleep with one.
I'm one of the lucky ones, I guess. I've never given a damn about what anyone thought of me, or worried about what I was supposed to do. I was more than content in forging my own path and choose my loves based on who they were and not what everyone around me thought about them. I was a rare girl who wasn't influenced in the least by what the other girls were doing. All through school, I liked history, music, and football. I still do. When I (very quickly) discovered the girls were all about clothes, hair, and makeup, I went right on being a fashion victim and made friends with the boys, who shared my interests. I knew those girls weren't who I wanted to be. I wanted to be smart. I didn't want to be a Barbie. To some degree, I think they were jealous...jealous that I knew who I was, I knew they weren't who I wanted to be, and I wasn't willing to conform to have friends. I made lasting friendships among the boys who accepted me for who I was. They didn't care how badly I dressed, they cared if I knew the score of last night's game or saw a particular documentary on the History Channel the previous night. And I did. Needless to say, I was never popular, and I never aspired to be. I couldn't have lived with myself if I'd been fake. I was completely me, and I didn't care who thought what about it. I carry this major tenant to my philosophy to this day.
When I was in high school, I felt a connection to this one girl in particular. I liked her because she cared even less than I did, and we were very close friends. Close friends who held hands in the hallway after school, and I didn't think anything of it and I wouldn't have cared if anyone HAD said something. Never mind I didn't know I liked women at that point in time, it really didn’t occur to me it was an option, even though I had a handful of gay guy-friends. Maybe if I hadn't been so sure of myself, maybe if I didn't like me so much, I wouldn't have held her hand in fear that someone might see. I may not have been totally clear on my true feelings for her, but I do know it would have been a betrayal of what I realize now was the true nature of our relationship. We were much more than friends in a time when I had no name for what I was, and I was scared of the feelings I couldn't place a name to. I ignored it. And our friendship ultimately paid the price, one of the few things I have ever regretted.
I know it takes a great deal of strength to say a big punk fuck you to social pressure, but it wasn't a big deal for me. I outright didn't care what anyone thought. I am what I am. I know who I am. I like me. I wish I knew more women who could say the same. Once in a while, I wonder about that bitch from the eighth grade, and what would happen if we ever saw each other again. Would she still call me a lesbian? Would she be jealous of my handsome boyfriend? I wonder if she ever found the strength to overcome her fears and insecurities about herself. I hope so, for her sake.
I was entirely unwilling to try to be something I wasn't, just to fit in and have friends. I had friends, good friends, some of whom I still have today. I've always had close relationships with guys because they were more ready to accept the fact that I didn't care about what I wore or how I acted. They cared weather or not I watched the football game or a documentary on TV. They cared if I was smart, and I could carry on a conversation about sports and history. I was, I could, and they liked me. Girls for me have always been much more complicated on a level I didn't understand. I didn't care they didn't like me because I refused to conform. I liked me, and that was all that mattered. I continue to have more male friends than female friends, but the few close women friends I have are girls like me-some are gay, some are straight, and some are in between. They all have one thing in common though-they refuse to be defined by what social order says they should be. They’re strong, confident, fiercely intelligent women, and I’m proud to be in each of their lives. It also reassured me that no, I wasn’t alone, that there were other girls like me.
I could go on for hours about the warped sense of self-image that a sickening number of girls have these days. Kay clearly wasn't as lucky as I was. Hopefully one day she'll wake up and realize that self-worth is so much more than looking like a fucking supermodel. Especially if that supermodel is an ugly bitch from Jersey.
-E.
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