I forgot livejournal existed.
this is really long.
I don't expect anyone to read it. I just need to put it out into the universe as much as possible, so that maybe fate will change my luck.
♦Riot grrrl (also frequently spelled riot grrl) is a form of hardcore punk rock music, known for its militant feminist stance. The genre first appeared in the early 1990s as an offshoot of alternative rock and punk music and as a response to prevalent attitudes of punk machismo, building also on a history of all-women bands.
One and a half years ago, I was everything a riot grrrl should be. I had the "don't give a fuck" attitude towards how people percieved me. I was the only person in my conservative, mainly mormon high school that cared about what was going on beyond the walls enough to try and do something about it. Anytime my english teacher gave an assignment where we had free rein, I wrote on feminist issues (and often got a low grade because of it.) I didn't wash my hair for three months. I'm pretty sure, however, that was more a product of, "if everyone else is washing their hair, I'm not going to" than being a self proclaimed riot grrl.
Sleater-Kinney was the first band I truly loved. For that reason, they remain my favorite to this day. I stumbled across them on the internet one fateful day when I was thirteen. I downloaded some songs, and was instantly hooked by the intensity and urgency the music had. Prior to that, I had never heard a song where the singer was singing about something they REALLY cared about. Intrigued, I looked into bands like Sleater-Kinney, and discovered a whole new type of music, and attitude. Consequently, another riot grrrl was born.
I read the 'zines. I digested the music. I adopted the ideals. I hung out with the "skater kids" and Kristen. I didn't really fit in, but it was the tightest fit I could find. I even tried to skate for about two months. Unforunately, I have low pain tolerance and high wuss factor. After enduring (and shamelessly whining about) minor scrapes and bruises, my foot got folded hot dog style and I was done. I haven't set foot on a skateboard since then. I'm stubborn like that.
In the eleventh grade Kristen moved to Calgary. I volunteered in the library. I spent pretty much every lunch hour putting away books, or reading at a table. It was a good way to avoid unwanted human interaction. After school I would go home and babysit my little bros and sister, while my single mother made supper, and lesson plans for her grade two class. I really admired her for her positive attitude. I also really wished I too could laugh at everything life dealt me. It was hard to be a lonely riot grrrl with nobody tangible to inspire you. Then Toshi came. He was on exchange from Japan. We were friends almost immediately. During his ten month stay, he taught me to find beauty again (as cheesy as that sounds). Saara from Finland made music with me. We were the Super Cool Band, and we were awesome. It was always fun with her. Toshi left, and Saara's departure date drew nearer. The loss of the only real friends I'd made in the year, mixed with all the other shit going on, was too much. My mom suggested that I move to my sister's house in Lethbridge. I jumped at the chance to have an excuse to break my routine.
Fast forward to now. It has been fifteen months since I moved here. Looking back, I had every hope that my life would start to play out the way I wanted it to. I wanted to move to a new place, go to a new school, and find somewhere I fit in. No such luck. I was accepted in one place. It wasn't a tight fit; most of my body parts were left exposed. Slowly, I adapted to the shabby accomodations and shrunk, to fit into the arms of exactly one person.
Over the past year, I have turned into, well, me. And I'm not particularily happy with the results. I have tried to draw inspiration from the small amount of people I do interact with, and I feel like a fraud. I was not always this shy, fragile girl. I used to be tough. I was not always so quick to rattle off a rehearsed group joke. I used to have my own brand of smart, sarcastic humor. I'm trying to incorporate the me I used to be into the me I am now. And, to do that, I need to remember who I was before. I was a riot grrrl.
Meri, I am eagerly anticipating your super mix cd.
* Please note that I am not at all as depresed and downtrodden as this blog makes me seem. I tend to be a bit dramatic.
I don't expect anyone to read it. I just need to put it out into the universe as much as possible, so that maybe fate will change my luck.
♦Riot grrrl (also frequently spelled riot grrl) is a form of hardcore punk rock music, known for its militant feminist stance. The genre first appeared in the early 1990s as an offshoot of alternative rock and punk music and as a response to prevalent attitudes of punk machismo, building also on a history of all-women bands.
One and a half years ago, I was everything a riot grrrl should be. I had the "don't give a fuck" attitude towards how people percieved me. I was the only person in my conservative, mainly mormon high school that cared about what was going on beyond the walls enough to try and do something about it. Anytime my english teacher gave an assignment where we had free rein, I wrote on feminist issues (and often got a low grade because of it.) I didn't wash my hair for three months. I'm pretty sure, however, that was more a product of, "if everyone else is washing their hair, I'm not going to" than being a self proclaimed riot grrl.
Sleater-Kinney was the first band I truly loved. For that reason, they remain my favorite to this day. I stumbled across them on the internet one fateful day when I was thirteen. I downloaded some songs, and was instantly hooked by the intensity and urgency the music had. Prior to that, I had never heard a song where the singer was singing about something they REALLY cared about. Intrigued, I looked into bands like Sleater-Kinney, and discovered a whole new type of music, and attitude. Consequently, another riot grrrl was born.
I read the 'zines. I digested the music. I adopted the ideals. I hung out with the "skater kids" and Kristen. I didn't really fit in, but it was the tightest fit I could find. I even tried to skate for about two months. Unforunately, I have low pain tolerance and high wuss factor. After enduring (and shamelessly whining about) minor scrapes and bruises, my foot got folded hot dog style and I was done. I haven't set foot on a skateboard since then. I'm stubborn like that.
In the eleventh grade Kristen moved to Calgary. I volunteered in the library. I spent pretty much every lunch hour putting away books, or reading at a table. It was a good way to avoid unwanted human interaction. After school I would go home and babysit my little bros and sister, while my single mother made supper, and lesson plans for her grade two class. I really admired her for her positive attitude. I also really wished I too could laugh at everything life dealt me. It was hard to be a lonely riot grrrl with nobody tangible to inspire you. Then Toshi came. He was on exchange from Japan. We were friends almost immediately. During his ten month stay, he taught me to find beauty again (as cheesy as that sounds). Saara from Finland made music with me. We were the Super Cool Band, and we were awesome. It was always fun with her. Toshi left, and Saara's departure date drew nearer. The loss of the only real friends I'd made in the year, mixed with all the other shit going on, was too much. My mom suggested that I move to my sister's house in Lethbridge. I jumped at the chance to have an excuse to break my routine.
Fast forward to now. It has been fifteen months since I moved here. Looking back, I had every hope that my life would start to play out the way I wanted it to. I wanted to move to a new place, go to a new school, and find somewhere I fit in. No such luck. I was accepted in one place. It wasn't a tight fit; most of my body parts were left exposed. Slowly, I adapted to the shabby accomodations and shrunk, to fit into the arms of exactly one person.
Over the past year, I have turned into, well, me. And I'm not particularily happy with the results. I have tried to draw inspiration from the small amount of people I do interact with, and I feel like a fraud. I was not always this shy, fragile girl. I used to be tough. I was not always so quick to rattle off a rehearsed group joke. I used to have my own brand of smart, sarcastic humor. I'm trying to incorporate the me I used to be into the me I am now. And, to do that, I need to remember who I was before. I was a riot grrrl.
Meri, I am eagerly anticipating your super mix cd.
* Please note that I am not at all as depresed and downtrodden as this blog makes me seem. I tend to be a bit dramatic.