Santa Baby, Slip a Donut Under the Tree

There is not a specific required age at which Santa is revealed to just be one’s parents on a budget and which the stork is actually the birds and the bees, so when do parents decide that the time is right for kids to come out of their bubble of ignorance to face the harsh realities of the “real world”?

My parents were never the type to celebrate the holidays traditionally. I’ve spent most of my thanksgivings at Chinese restaurants because they’re the only ones still open. It’s not surprising that I also never believed in Santa. In third grade, I asked my mom for a Christmas present, as I was jealous of my classmates, who would always boast about their new toys and gadgets after break. My mother told me that I would have to compose to her an email fully in Chinese of my wish list as a tactic of making me practice my Chinese. The email took a good chunk out of my TV time, so you can imagine my excitement when I woke up that Christmas to see boxes underneath the tree. The label said “From, Santa”, but I was no fool. I've seen that wrapping paper hundreds of times in the hallway closet.

Turns out, my mother had actually just re-wrapped the clothes from my closet that she got me from Gymboree on black Friday. However, that’s not the point. Every time I tell someone that my childhood did not include Santa, they look at me with pitying eyes. What they don’t understand is that just because I didn't live off of the ignorant whims of childhood does not mean that mine was not fulfilling. Childhood is not defined by ignorance. Instead, ignorance is prominent in youth because it is just a product of censorship, a parental instinct to protect one’s child from any means of danger. The history teacher from Billy Collins’ poem “[tries] to protect his students’ innocence,” but he just doesn't understand that the truth of reality can also make his students stronger and more grounded. Santa’s missing presence from my life taught me to work for my rewards, even at a young age. 

d-o-n-u-t DO d)o n(ut) nUt ! O ?t

hi friends this is my bog post about punctuation or in this case the lack thereof after you are finished reading this long sentence please comment below your level of confusion and why

so

does my lack of punctuation leave me with less credibility an impression of an uneducated wannabe author or just an artist with a unique writing style that can convey a deeper meaning than with words alone perhaps a stream of consciousness so rapid that there is no time for , ; . ? !

am I breakingtherulesorjustcreatingnewones
after all
there are no precise rules about punctuation
                                                           Lewis Thomas

I would have typed the whole post like that but then I realized that I actually need two hundred words for a passing grade

anyways

After all weren’t we the ones to create the rules if there are twenty seven amendments to the constitution then what is stopping us from changing the rules of punctuation

Does this make me a poet like Emily Dickinson because my post can be perceived as more art than language
and I gotta say I do feel as if my possibilities are pretty endless right now
I could put a period anywhere between any of these two hundred (or more) words
watch out it could catch you by surprise

what is this mess e.e. cummings       

                  ^beautiful

You are a fool let me strip you of your Harvard degree and the ten awards you received over your lifetime

I mean if you write properly you shouldn’t have to punctuate

                                                                         Cormac McCarthy

An oxford comma huh
may I create my own comma and call it the fan comma
seeing as how neither are technically necessary if embodied in context clues

 My confusion level is 11/10 but not because I don't understand I am just so unfamiliar with the feeling of being so

hipster
.

The Tastiest Donut

 “We had defended ourselves since memory against everything and everybody, considered all speech a code to be broken by us, and all gestures subject to careful analysis; we had become headstrong, devious and arrogant. Nobody paid us any attention, so we paid very good attention to ourselves. Our limitations were not known to us—not then. Our only handicap was our size; people gave us orders because they were bigger and stronger. So it was with confidence, strengthened by pity and pride, that we decided to change the course of events and alter a human life” (Morrison 191).

Let me just say straight up that I may have fallen asleep once or twice while trying to complete the reading assignments for The Bluest Eye. There have been times that I have looked back at my sticky-notes to realize that this:

Does not make any sense. However, it is passages like this one that make me sit up straighter and my handwriting neater. In the novel, Claudia is nine years old. I don’t remember many specific details of my ninth year of life except for the fact that I would blackmail my dad to tell me where my mom hid my Halloween candy, and I somehow was able to fall off the piano bench while playing piano, causing a nice scar right next to my left eye. Never can I say that I had to wake up or go to bed with such heart-breakingly beautiful perspectives as Claudia. Diction such as “defended”, “headstrong”, “limitations” and “handicap” show that these are not the words of a child, but instead, of a fighter. Childhood is not defined by an age, but by the protection and nurturing environment brought by the parents and the community, the innocent and carefree mindset of an oblivious soul, and the guiltless selfishness that would always be excusable in the end. Claudia, Frieda, and Pecola have none of this. They are forced into maturity to “change the course of events and alter a human life” when they themselves still have to plan out their own course of events. Morrison continues to prove that even a beautiful and eloquent string of words such as this passage has the ability to yank my heart through my chest.

Straight Hair, Donut Care

In The Bluest Eye, Toni Morrison brings up how women tend to “worry about the edges of [one’s] hair, and how they spend countless hours every year straightening their hair in order to conform to beauty standards. Characters in the novel, such as Pauline, are looked down upon when they don’t straighten their hair to make it resemble Caucasian hair. During our discussion in class, I found this topic incredibly un-relatable. I have stick straight hair—you could say it’s an Asian thing. Ever since I can remember, I’ve always wanted anything but stick straight hair. I dug out my mother’s archaic curling iron the day I learned of such a tool, and even got a perm in seventh grade. So you can imagine my surprise when I started hearing about and seeing girls show up to school with their hair looking very similar to mine, but obviously straightened. I didn’t understand why girls would put effort and sacrifice precious sleep in order to make their hair blander and less individualistic. Now that I better understand the desire to conform to society and the danger of individuality, I understand why girls and women worry about the edges of their hair. But then…why do women curl their hair? It’s alright boys, I don’t understand women either. 

Donut Blame Barbie

During the years when my age still fell in the single digits, I lived by one rule and one rule alone--never, ever utter the horrendous three Ps--pretty, pink, and princess. I grew up playing with my brother's toys: legos, bionicles, pokemon, and beyblades. I would ride my hotwheels tricycle around the neighborhood, awaiting the day that I could graduate from such childish whims and inherit the big kid transformers themed bicycle and its matching training wheels. A family friend once blessed me with the ever-so-popular Barbie, but my mother quickly learned from her mistake and stuck with giving me my brother's old toys after I continuously stripped Barbie and left her stark naked on the kitchen floor.

Today, tons of sources are attacking the Barbie company for forcing an unattainable goal for body image among young girls. They say that Barbie is the reason that girls are self-conscious, have eating disorders, and are bullied.

However, what about the millions of girls around the word that grew up like me? Never did I ever set foot in that "atrociously" pink isle at my local Toys R Us voluntarily, so, according to the logic of these people who blame the societal flaw of body image on a children's toy, I should have no problem with what I should look like. Wrong.

I do not attain to be Barbie. I do not long for her life, her body, or her lifestyle, but that does not prevent me or any other human being from idealizing what one's body should look like. It's easy for people to put all the blame on one source, especially on sources focused around children and teenagers, simply because our minds are more malleable and easier to manipulate. "Serial killers exist because all the video games are about fighting", or "Girls are prioritizing outer beauty over inner beauty because chick flicks and dolls taught them so" are constantly headers of articles all over the internet. What many don't understand is that correlation does not imply causation (yay stats)--removing Barbie from a child's equation may reduce the rate at which young girls feel the desire to be tall, skinny, and alluring, but it will not eradicate the objectification of women or the desire to meet beauty standards.

Hypocrisy: Donut Deny

I've always understood that being a hypocrite is a natural thing: it's easy for anybody to watch Honey Boo Boo and say "Wow, they should get off their couch and start doing some stuff that could positively impact the world" when the viewer himself/herself is sitting on the couch watching reality TV. However, the three articles we studied in class this week showed me that our nation and its values are planted in hypocrisy. 

Every Fourth of July, everyone celebrates the work of our founding fathers, including our buddy Thomas Jefferson, for granting us independence. However, the freedom they asked for is not the same as the freedom I have today as an Asian-American. I don’t like the term Asian-American, because my nationality is just American, but for the purpose of my argument, and also in the eyes of our founding fathers, I am Asian-American. Decades after the US became an independent country, our “leaders” still continued to oppress the people of their country. If I had been alive during the time of the Revolution, the nation’s independence would not have granted me freedom, but instead a change in my oppressors. The Declaration is a list of grievances against the King, which, if reworded, could be used against the creators of the document. So, that’s exactly what the feminist movement did. Their document cried of oppression of every kind; their accusations against men seemed endless. Stanton was not mistaken—it is true that the women of the nation at that time were significantly inferior to the men. However, in 1848, when the Declaration of Sentiments was signed, many women were still unafraid to treat their slaves the same way that the men treat them.

All in all, even though centuries have passed and the movement for women’s rights is still ongoing and racism is still prominent in people’s everyday lives, I sure am glad to be alive now instead of back then. 

I Donut Know Where to Start

Let me just put it out there that reading the end of The Scarlet Letter was infuriating. If there is any literary term for the antonym of Verisimilitude, please let me know, for as of right now, I’m just going to make up my own word for it—TheEndofTheScarletLetter. I could rant for pages, but I’ll just touch up on the basics.

The tragic hero, Dimmesdale, was thoroughly disappointing. Even when he was ignorant and overly pious in the beginning of the novel, at least he had his own backbone. In the scene at the woods, he dared to say “I pray you, if thou hast any means of pacifying the child, do it forthwith! … Pacify her, if thou lovest me!” Words cannot describe how disturbed I was by this dialogue. By taking in Dimmesdale, Hester is basically taking in another child. Does he really think that she’s choosing to have Pearl be this wild rampant of a child (can you tell I dislike Pearl also)?

In the end, when Dimmesdale repents his sin to the community, he decides to just drop dead and leave his family behind. Sure, I understand that his death did have symbolism and that it created dramatic effect and character development, but just because it is the seventeenth century does not allow one to defy the laws of universe and drop dead whenever he pleases! If anything, I thought that revealing his sin would make him stronger in the way that it did for Hester. Dimmesdale is supposedly the tragic hero, but to me, he is the most tragic tragic hero I have ever read about.

I feel as if I’m always super angry after reading an archaic classic; what they used to find beautiful and romantic (i.e. Romeo and Juliet), I just find humorous. It’s a good thing that Hester is a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man. 

A symbolism of Pearl in the modern day society