a disney princess doll of me?

I find this a bit interesting, a tad disturbing, and I could definitely find it problematic in all kinds of ways, but I’m mostly just going to leave it alone for now… there exists a website here where you can model yourself (or anyone, really) off of Disney princesses. Their fashion, their accessories, etc. Here is what I look like using the limited creative universe of Disney princess options:

disney princess doll of self

I think I did a decent job of finding brown hair that’s poof-y enough to match my poodle-style hair and of course I kept the glasses. I never ever wear skirts nor do I own an off-the-shoulder shirt, but I would own the shirt and green is fun! I totally own those shoes (who doesn’t have black flats?) and obviously I carry leather-bound books with me everywhere. (Not really. Other books, yes.)

In days past, when I was a much younger creative writer, I used these doll generators frequently to imagine up my characters. It was a little more true to what was in my head. But still, it’s worth noting how these kinds of generators, especially ones modeled after Disney princesses, are extending problematic notions of gender, race, class, ethnicity, sexuality, etc. Because they do.

None the less, I just made me, the Disney Princess. I wonder if I should have gone for the tiara?

(BEDA: April 10, 2013)

P.S. I also made a ballerina version of me! (I really get into these silly things.)


Also, Harry Potter. (Yes, I’m in Slytherin.)

harry potter




I take ballet classes on Monday & Wednesday evenings.

Today, all I wanted to do was spend the entire class stretching at the barre.

I rolled my ankle in last night’s soccer game, which means my always-injured Achilles was tight and sore.

(And yes, in rolling my ankle, my ankle was fine and my chronic injury was not.)

Unfortunately, we did not get to stretch at the barre all class.

So, I came home and managed to use husband-to-be’s recliner as a barre.

(It’s an appropriate height and doesn’t actually recline unless you pull the lever.)

But really, I think I could stretch all day.

Thankfully, tomorrow I have yoga.

(BEDA: April 8, 2013)

B.E.D.April 9

Chicken broth in mug

I had to drink my chicken broth from a mug while driving to work -- I'm sick and still behind on life.

Sick Day

So last night I had a really fun time with food poisoning. Nothing more really needs to be said about that, but whenever I get sick, I become a completely worthless human. I am the worst sick person in the world because I absolutely refuse to go to the doctor until my mother, who lives 900 miles away from me, calls  Boyfriend and threatens him about taking me to Urgent Care. This has happened. Multiple times. Because threatening me doesn’t work. I know all her tricks.

But here’s the thing about being an adult and sick — the world keeps on spinning, but now, I’m in charge of my own keeping up. It’s not like grad school or work will pause while I take a few days to recover.  So I gotta wake up, buck up, and just keep on going. Of course, I’m not alone in this. This is something all adults must do. I just am a little more whiny about it.

And there are definitely days (and middle of the nights) where I just wish I was a kid again — when throwing up all night meant I got at least two days off from school, and sport’s practice, and a short reprieve from homework because all my deadlines would be magically pushed back. I would watch a single movie on endless repeat when I was conscious. I would maybe spend an unhealthy amount of time reading Harry Potter fanfiction or the Gossip Girl novels for the umpteenth time.

All that said, the worst part about today is definitely having to show up for work but having to voluntarily miss ballet tonight. I would go, but I think pirouettes and nausea don’t go together. And grand allegro and no food all day definitely don’t go together. I probably don’t need to faint or puke at ballet. I am, however, scheduling in a much needed nap during this time (or I may read more of 172 Hours of the Moon).

a grad school turning point

Well, it’s been a week. Two since the new semester started, and I’m just starting to feel like I’ve got my feet beneath me. The last two weeks have been frustrating, and for the last week I’ve been sick (I’m a very worthless sick person / I don’t handle it particularly well at all / it’s a fault), and the last two days culminated in a kind of a mini turning point for me in all things LIFE.

On Wednesday, I went to ballet. The class actually began on Monday, but as I was still avoiding the general public for their own benefit, I didn’t go. But on Wednesday I dragged my not-so-sick-anymore butt to the gym, climbed three flights of stairs to the ballet room, and pirouette’d* into an hour of ballet.  I have never done ballet in my life, and I’m doing this because I’ve always wanted to. And I really suck. And it’s the most fun I’ve had doing something in years. I learned the 5 basic positions, I learned a bunch of French words I’ll never remember, and I learned that you have to sew the elastic into ballet slippers. Yeah, they don’t come pre-sewn. You’ve gotta do it yourself. Which is actually a task for Bf this weekend because he can sew and I can’t (though, I’m not entirely sure he wants me telling the internet at large that).

Also on Wednesday, I took said Bf out on a date because we haven’t been on one in months**. We went to dinner at a local BBQ joint and then we went to the local, I guess, “fun center” to play glow-in-the-dark putt putt (which I won) and arcade games (he won skee-ball and I won the free throw game). He picked out a magnetic dartboard with our tickets and I got a Chinese finger-trap because I’ve never had one before. It was absolutely everything I wanted it to be. It’s three days later and still really fun to mess around with.

Thursday was both the climax of the frustrating news and my getting my feet back on the ground. Because when I found out that everything about graduate school and work and the world was about to get a whole lot more hectic, and that I was going to be juggling a lot more responsibility, I just set it all aside to spend some quality time with people I really love. Which I needed to do to get back in the right frame of mind.  I remembered on Thursday night that there is a time for everything, and there was nothing I could do to make my world less crazy and there was nothing I could start working on (effectively) that night. So, Bf made me a delicious, comforting meal and we spent a few hours just being in the same room, not distracted by work or school. Then I met up with A for coffee (her) and tea (me), where we talked and laughed until after midnight, at which point we both realized we had things to do in the morning.

The thing is, I was originally so frustrated because I’m now spending my Saturday morning working. And I was frustrated because it could have been avoided with better communication, and less politicking, and a thousand other things that just happen because of department bureaucracy and emotions. But really, so what? I don’t dislike what I do, and the project that I now get to dedicate my Saturday morning to is, sure, a little tedious, but also important. I’m feeling overwhelmed because I’ve gotten involved in something that’s a lot more than I thought I signed up for, but again, so what? That’s my misjudgment, and now I’m pretty excited that the leader on this thing thought I could handle what I’m going to be doing. Even if does mean that I, a little suddenly, have to get a lot of ducks in a row in a matter of days.

What I’m learning most from graduate school is that those group projects I always got stuck in through high school and college actually did have a pretty meaningful lesson. A large part of what I’m doing this semester relies on collaboration and group dynamics, and that’s tough. It’s frustrating that I can’t control other people, and yet I still want to control the outcome. Because it’s my grade and my reputation on the line, which means that I’ve got to start picking up my own slack and stop reacting off my emotions, and starting working with my skills.

I realize this has now become a bit preachy, but it’s not at you, it’s at me. It’s a, well, frustrating realization that the only person really frustrating me is me. So, here’s going into a working weekend with high hopes that it will be both productive and good. I’ve got both work and play scheduled in, and if I can carry that balance through next week, I think I can stay sane. I’ve got a pretty big surprise coming up next weekend, but I can’t talk about it until the following Monday, so you may a special post about that.

* I actually haven’t learned how to do a pirouette yet, so that’s an exaggeration.
** The thing about 5 years together is that “dates” become “the usual plans”.