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13. Get at Least One PhD

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This is much like the last item.  I’m still not sure what to get my PhD in but I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.  Although I’m not sure how you apply for a PhD.  I know there are lots of applications, stuff to send to each institution, and a buttload of fees.  But do you have to have a master’s in the subject to apply for a PhD program.  I was under the impression I could get a master’s unrelated to my undergrad.  Whatever.  I am most likely getting one of my master’s in English, so that’ll probably be what I get my PhD in. 

 

I’m not quite sure why it bothers me so much to pursue my writing.  Probably because I’m convinced there is no money to be made, thus no stability.  And with as many student loans as I have no money being made equals living in a cardboard box and never having a decent credit score.  Which means I can never purchase a house or own a new car.  Unless I somehow save the money to just walk into a realtor’s office or car dealership and hand them cash.  But if I’ve saved this money it’ll probably get taken away by collection agencies along with my cardboard box. 

 

I am in no way implying that all writers will be penniless or that it’s impossible to become a famous writer.  It’s just one of those careers only a small percentage of people can obtain.  Like becoming a famous actress or country music star.  And though I’ll probably continue to write for my own enjoyment it’ll only ever be one of my hobbies, like music became. 

 

So I’ll continue to blog for the seventeen followers (that I’m SO grateful for :D) I’ve managed to snag and I’ll finish my novel for my mother who’s completely hooked on the story.  And maybe if I’m lucky some publisher will get ahold of my blog or read a portion of my novel and want to publish it.  But I refuse to let myself even entertain the idea of ever becoming a famous author. 

The word “Fat” is not an insult!

Recently, it being summer and all, I went shopping for a bathing suit.  I didn’t go to a fancy department store because there’s no way in hell they’ll have a bathing suit that can handle all my curves.  I went to Torrid, the store where curvy girls get their fashion on.  Well, I get there and low and behold they’re having a sale; all the bathing suits on the wall were 30% off.  This was great.  I wouldn’t have to spend $70 on a bathing suit. 

 

I tried on the two piece that I wanted and a really cute halter one piece.  The first size I picked up for both suits were a little small so I asked my friend to run out (he really deserves a gold metal for going clothes shopping with me, it can be a disaster) and grab me the next size up in both.  As it turns out, they didn’t have the next size for the halter one piece, but he found me different sizes for a couple other bathing suits on the wall.  Then the sales lady got in on the action because for some stupid reason boys aren’t allowed back near the dressing rooms even though he’s über gay and wouldn’t particularly enjoy the view.  Of course, she brings me bathing suits that aren’t on sale, and of course they looked amazing because they have my size in these swimsuits, obviously I’m not the only one that liked the 30% off. 

 

That’s when I got frustrated.  I wanted a swimsuit, but I didn’t want to pay $70 for it.  I bought my graduation dress ($75) from Torrid and the zipper started acting stupid the second time I wore it.  And I didn’t want to shell out the dough AGAIN for a product that was only going to last me the summer at most.  I didn’t mind when they were on sale cause it saved me some money and makes it feel less like I’m throwing away my money, but if I bought this suit I wouldn’t be saving any money.  So, I did what any frustrated sensible person would do in my situation, I cried in the changing room. 

 

I hate shopping for clothes.  It doesn’t even matter if it’s a store for bigger people or not.  To me, if you’re going to sell me outrageously priced clothes they should at least last a little while.  I just don’t understand why bigger clothes are more expensive.  I get that it’s a little more fabric, but does the fabric REALLY cost that much extra?  It’s not a tarp.  All my skinny friends can go to Old Navy and find a whole new wardrobe for less than $100.  I can’t even buy an OUTFIT for that much!  Torrid had a tank top that anywhere else would have cost $7, but because it was made for a bigger person it cost $30. 

 

Is this supposed to be some kind of punishment?  Are we just supposed to be glad they were nice enough to provide us fatasses with one or two clothing stores to shop in and we should just cough up the dough cause we’re not gonna find anything anywhere else that fits?  And for all you stores that don’t sell bigger clothes, SHAME ON YOU!  You think that by some sort of reverse psychology you’re gonna motivate us to somehow lose the weight so we can fit into your clothes, well it ain’t gonna work!  You’re not going to motivate me by bringing down my self-esteem.  How am I supposed to feel good about myself walking around in a potato sack?  I don’t mind being a bigger gal, I really don’t.  But I DO mind that I’m made to feel like my body is inferior to the average super model’s and every time I turn on the television I have to face it’s perception of my body type.  I have to see every fat character in every movie and every sitcom be an evil villain or a stupid sidekick. 

 

Every time I see a fat celebrity lose weight it makes me angry.  There are lots of fat kids out there that need someone to look up to and when celebrities become skinny bitches it gives those kids one less role model.  Was being bigger that terrible?  The answer is no, but you just couldn’t handle the stigma that comes with being a bigger person.  And those celebrities get called all kinds of things like brave and courageous because they take all that negative talk in the tabloids during their weight loss “struggle.”  I have one thing to say to those celebrities, YOU BENT TO SOCIETAL PRESSURE!  YOU’RE NOT BRAVE AT ALL!  You would have been braver if you had told society to shove it and that you’re proud of your bigger figure.    

 

We can only hope that one day we’ll realize that bigger people are just as beautiful.  And that being bigger isn’t a bad thing. So let’s keep our fingers crossed.  Lord knows there isn’t much hope if Hollywood continues to spew forth the negative fat character stereotypes.

 

(By the way, I understand some people do need to lose weight due to medical reasons.  Your health is always the most important, but if you’re healthy at a bigger size who’s to say your size is wrong, or to assume that you eat too many cheeseburgers and you have diabetes and heart disease?  It’s about being healthy at ANY size.)

Dear Readers,

I know I haven’t been posting lately, but with finals and moving out of the state I’ve been INSANELY busy.  Don’t worry, this week I’m buying my brand new MAC and I will be posting like a demon this summer.  And for those of you that LOVE the photos I post, don’t worry there will be lots of those as well.  Thanks for following!

Love,

Heather

Being an English Major

When I first came to college I had great big delusional dreams of being a professional oboe player.  But as my first year of college ended and I transferred to UW-Whitewater my stupid dream was smashed into a thousand gazillion pieces when I couldn’t get into the music department here for music performance (sorry if I sound bitter, but my first oboe teacher told me I would never make it and I’m still a little upset that he was right).  So, I settled on being a plain music major.  This plan was quickly thworted as I did not have the musical ear to pass the classes or at least to obtain grades I was happy with.  Music, still an emense passion of mine, could not be shrugged off that easily and seeing as the minor only required a couple classes that would involve a really talented ear I figured I could live with a D here and a couple C’s and thus music became my minor. 

At this point I needed a new major so I then gave pre-business a go for a semester ultimately deciding that I would much rather insert something large up my rectum instead of taking another accounting class.  I did the math major thing for a year or two and actually enjoyed it until I met the professor from hell.  After that the fun was sucked out of the subject, so I dropped it down to a minor and when they said my GPA was too low in the minor I had to drop it completely. This was pretty disheartening considering the minor was finished. 

Still desperately looking for that one subject I excelled at I decided to be an English major just because it seemed like the classes I did the best in were the English classes.  I assume I excelled at these classes because of my high test anxiety and the lack of exams in the writing courses.  However, when all was said and done all that was left was an English major and a music minor.  Quite the combo, right?  I’m on my way to barista-hood and bad credit due to my loans.  I know this is the wrong attitude to take, but think about it, especially my fellow English majors.  How many times have you heard that you’re not going to get a job when you leave college?  If your experience has been anything like mine you’ve heard it a lot.  And now in this great age of technology every jerk in his mom’s basement can be a writer and they don’t have $50,000 in loans.  Don’t get me wrong I love the creative outlets technology gives aspiring writers, but now that you can find creativity splattered all over the internet why would anyone pay an English major to do what they can find for free with Google?  I know there are jobs out there for anyone with any college degree, but why did I spend four years taking all these English classes for me to just end up selling Insurance or being a telemarketer.  In the end it just seems like a waste of money and a disappointment.  So, how do I keep going knowing the gloomy fate that awaits me the moment after I graduate?  I guess I’m just hoping that even though I’ll probably spend most of my life as a claims adjuster I’ll eventually get the opportunity to write and I just have to be patient until then.

6. Go to at Least One Summer Festival for Oboe

For anyone who’s not in the music world that don’t know what a festival is it’s sort of like summer camp for musicians.  Musicians go to these festivals, throughout the U.S. or abroad, for a couple weeks and study with professionals from all over.  Not only is it a fantastic learning experience, but it’s also a chance to travel. For each festival you have to audition and send in all kinds of extra materials.  

I’ve always talked about doing one, but have never applied.  This I most likely due to my lack of confidence in my oboe playing abilities.  I’ve known musicians that have gotten into festivals and they are phenomenal players.  I don’t think I could never perform like that, not to mention pass an audition knowing the talent that I’m competing against.  Plus festivals aren’t geared toward hobbyists, they’re geared more towards those who want to play their instruments as a profession. 

I suppose getting into a festival would be more of that validation I’m seeking.  I just wish I knew why this validation was so important to me.  Proving a certain someone wrong would make me feel great, but they’ve been out of my life for so long now I don’t know why it still matters.  And I don’t know if you could tell but my attitude and confidence levels seem to be big roadblocks.  They always have been, but I’m not sure where to start building my self-esteem.  Though if I fix the confidence issue I probably would fix the validation problem.  Hmmm…

P.S. I know the picture doesn’t make a whole lot of sense seeing as I’m an oboe player, but I couldn’t find an oboe player with their teacher.  I settled on this photo because I assume this is what you would look like if you went to a summer festival and played the viola.

On our way back from Nashville’s Pride Festival last year we made a couple detours in Kentucky.  So here are the detour photos (the ones I’m willing to share anyway).  The house is the Polk house and the tombstones were in a cemetery for unknown confederate soldiers.  As for the hay bales, they just looked cool.  Enjoy!
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On our way back from Nashville’s Pride Festival last year we made a couple detours in Kentucky.  So here are the detour photos (the ones I’m willing to share anyway).  The house is the Polk house and the tombstones were in a cemetery for unknown confederate soldiers.  As for the hay bales, they just looked cool.  Enjoy!
Zoom Info
On our way back from Nashville’s Pride Festival last year we made a couple detours in Kentucky.  So here are the detour photos (the ones I’m willing to share anyway).  The house is the Polk house and the tombstones were in a cemetery for unknown confederate soldiers.  As for the hay bales, they just looked cool.  Enjoy!
Zoom Info
On our way back from Nashville’s Pride Festival last year we made a couple detours in Kentucky.  So here are the detour photos (the ones I’m willing to share anyway).  The house is the Polk house and the tombstones were in a cemetery for unknown confederate soldiers.  As for the hay bales, they just looked cool.  Enjoy!
Zoom Info

On our way back from Nashville’s Pride Festival last year we made a couple detours in Kentucky.  So here are the detour photos (the ones I’m willing to share anyway).  The house is the Polk house and the tombstones were in a cemetery for unknown confederate soldiers.  As for the hay bales, they just looked cool.  Enjoy!

5. Record a CD of Oboe Music

If you count CDs of recital music I suppose I’ve made a couple CDs of oboe music.  Technically though they were CDs of oboe AND bassoon music because I’ve never done a recital of just oboe music.  But it’s all kind of blah.  I can hear all my mistakes, not to mention the clanking of the bassoon keys, and it’s just…blah.  So I suppose this should say I want to produce a PROFESSIONAL cd of oboe music.  

Oboe has always been kind of a hobby and I’ve tried to make it my major/career, but it really took all the joy out of it.  It just seemed like work.  The main reason this is on my bucket list is that I’ve always been told that I’m either a mediocre oboe player or a terrible oboe player.  And though those that gave these opinions are not the nicest people, they are professionals and it’s hard to get their negativity out of my head, even when I know I’m not a bad oboe player (however there’s always room for improvement).  To me the cd would serve as some sort of validation.  Validation of what, I’m not sure.  Plus mediocre/bad musicians make CDs all the time; look at Kenny G.  And in the end I might just end up being a crappy musician with a crappy cd, but I’d be able to say I gave it whirl and I had the balls to put myself out there.

4. Become a Famous Blogger

This bucket list item is pretty simple, I want this blog, or any blog I post on, to be famous.  I want a GAZILLION followers.  I want to entertain the masses from the comfort of my own home.  I want to share my writing.  But most importantly I want share my experiences.

This semester, on my journey to better blogging, I had the opportunity to interview an experienced blogger, Pete Prodoehl.  I’d say he’s pretty famous.  He’s been on the internet since 1994 and has one of the longest running blogs.  He’s kept his main blog, Rasterweb, going since 1997, which is a feat within itself.   I mean most people who start blogs start them for specific reasons and after a couple posts they forget about them (It hasn’t happened to the Flabulous Bisexual, but I’ve had trouble keeping it up.  Sometimes I leave for a couple months and then come back.  The coming back part is important.).

The other thing about Pete’s (hope he doesn’t mind me being informal) blogging is that he posts his experiences to help other people.  If he toils at a computer program and has to go to hell and back to get it to work, he then posts the process he went through and how he solved the problem.  He does this to HELP people.  He wants to give back to his readers. And, by the way, the money he makes on his blog via ads he doesn’t keep, he donates it to a project or charity he supports. 

Most bloggers write to vent emotions or tell a story, but do we ever think about posting to help someone?  Do we ever think, “I’m gonna post this story because I bet someone’s going through this too and it might help them.”  I’ve always thought about entertaining my audience, but I never thought of my experiences helping anyone. I just talk about me.  Hopefully what I post helps my readers, otherwise this all seems pretty selfish.

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