Once More A Question Of Identity :

Do you know what I hate the most? When someone does something so hypocritical, but you can’t say shit because you yourself do the same thing. Defining yourself… it should be a pretty simple and easy thing. But it’s not. I don’t know why it isn’t. It just isn’t.

Here’s the thing. There’s a label for everything. And don’t get me wrong, I am not necessarily someone who has issues with that. Labels can be helpful. You can understand what you are and what community you could possible relate to through them. But come on, y’all. They also make a lot of things hella difficult. And that’s even if you understand what they all mean.

I certainly do not. At all.

So the issue of today’s confusion? Ethnicity and nationality. I mean someone sends me a clip of an American youtuber getting Kpop stars to guess American stars ethnicity and the result is like eeh. I mean since when is American and Canadian an Ethnicity? I’m pretty sure last time I checked those were countries made up of many different ethnicites where the native ethnic group is not the representative majority. Israel? Pretty sure it is a group of similar ethnic groups with one common cultural heritage point or religious ties. There is no indication of mixed heritage at all with the answer choices. It just seems really hypocritical. You should use the chance to have them guess the right information? I mean if there’s going to be confusion it should at least be confusion about the right labels, no?

I don’t really think I would call myself an American/Canadian if you asked me how I identify as an individual. I mean that’s just my nationality. I am a proud little Jewish girl who wants to maintain the right, whether its bad or good, to make clever white people jokes. I ain’t about to let mis-education take that away from me.

I don’t know. I think I am being over sensitive, because of other issues.

I.L. Knight

america and canada

Kpop Stars Guess Celebrity Ethnicity

America And Canada Clip – Hetalia

 

Les Misérables :

I think I was sort of lucky. G-d was giving me a sign I need to put more effort into my social life again. A friend I met a first year, who I haven’t talked in like three years, messaged me to tell me she had an extra Les Miserables ticket and would love to catch up. If that ain’t a sign for something I don’t know. So it was fun. Let’s give a crack of review.

Here are the entire list off the cuff nicknames I have for the first half:

Why You Gotta Mashup

25 sec A Song A Thon

Rush Rush Baby

Character Ain’t Singing That Now

Glee Version

I Am Seriously Not Getting Invested

A Spin On A Classic Ain’t Always Great

We Know Les Mis Is Long. Ain’t Need To Be Short

To put it shortly, as much as it is impossible to do bad at Les Miserables there version stopped me from getting invested in it the way I should. That being said… The second half was completely different. No longer were they shortening songs and trying to only sing parts of songs. We got the full songs. The epic moments of a failed revolution and love…I could finally start getting invested again.

To absolute delight I got my On My Own Moment. It was all I was waiting for the entire night. It has been my favorite song since I was a kid (tied with God Help The Outcast of course). It was also a song I had forbade myself to sing in three years, because of my last memory attached to it. It was an ironically scenic night, a beautiful black lake, a nice open bench, a clear view of a sere starry sky, and the perfect amount of breeze when I heard the song. No matter how bad my voice was I just had to sing. There was pain. A new meaning of the song attached to a very unhealthy love. It made me committed to not have that memory when I left for college. I was after all committed to not having anymore attachments. It was wonderful. Thank you to the talented cast.

Also, thank you to production. You allowed me to become absorbed enough to cry my eyes out at the enviable tear rendering, heart piercing moment, of the death of our beloved Jean Valjean in the church. I was never that big of a fan of Cosette (let’s be real I wanted Eponine to not die and find love, because her life turned out much worse than Cosette’s). However, you have to love that moment. The way the story comes to fruition and finds it denouement. It made me cry for something wonderful for once.

I think the best part of this play came after though. As a rare Montreal night became something even more special. The nice silence of a late night in the city. The rare moment where the snow in Montreal is high enough and clean enough to sparkle as if embedded with crystals. The perfect cold breeze to uplift you as you walk the three blocks home. The conclusion of walking with a song you haven’t heard in three years. There was the perfect serenity to On My Own. There was no recall of sadness or an attachment. It was just a warmth I had when I first listened to the song.

I think tonight was wonderful. It was like someone pressed a refresh button on me and said you know what you can be productive and learn.

This is the power of plays. Of Les Miserables.

I.L. Knight

eponine

On My Own – Lea Solanga

On My Own – Movie Version

OMG – Lucifer :

Here’s the scoop everyone. Lucifer just did the most amazing thing ever! It had an entire episode of Kpop references that didn’t make the whole thing come off as forced or awkward. I mean naming a drug K POP that was being sold by a Korean gang is PRICELESS. And when I heard Shinee’s Lucifer as the actual Lucifer was walking down the karaoke bar’s hallway I sort of wanted to cry. You could hear Jonghyun’s amazing vocals, so clearly in the background. It was like a perfect homage to an amazing singer.

No words to describe this episode. Thank you Lucifer and Thank You Cain.

I.L. Knight

rush

Lucifer – Shinee

I Managed to Update Chapter 2 :

HI HI y’all. I did manage to finish chapter two for my mom. Mostly by ignoring my actual work. but hey it counts. Anyways, click below to read chapter two of the Twilight Fan Fiction. Let me know if you can guess where it is heading! Because I don’t have a clue yet… I mean how do I write about Edward and Jacob and not change or affect any of their ‘perfect’ love dynamics

Chapter 2

Hope you like it,

I.L. Knight

twilightvolleyball

Bella and Edward Arrive At School Together

So Here’s the Random Cup of Tea :

Let’s just I was in for a major shock. I went to my building’s office to pick up the one package I was expecting, and somehow ended up with six. [I am super thankful they collect by shipping packages though, because I would never be here in time to actually get them myself or want to walk to the post office to get them]. Now, I know what you are thinking…She must of had some crazy thought. Oh, believe it I did. I seemingly joke someone might want to kill me. When inside I was like oh damn, no one follows my blog, but if I offended that one person on the internet who’d somehow find my address and send me you suck mail.

I’m glad to report it was not that kind of mail. It was more confusing. I ended up with a bulk package my mom sent me. I had expected her here’s your attempt at getting your base vitamins (ironically choosing a Canadian french company for most of them) and I’m throwing in a thing of muscle milk, because you haven’t found the light version yet and you need to eat breakfast. Oh, and some turmeric tea, because you obsess over that yellow stuff. Now, the sunscreen I could make sense of. I have always cherished and been aware of the importance of a good sunscreen for your face. A girl must protect her skin. Especially, when she known people with skin cancer before. One family member lost the tip of his ears believe it or not…. He should of remembered to sunscreen them. Any who, I had thought I cancelled the order, but I guess not. I could always check it out tomorrow.

So the other four packages? Well, one was apparently so large I couldn’t carry it myself , so I can see the prize tomorrow. The others was a box of power crunch bars, an eye cream that is known for being good for people with health issues or sensitive skin, and a similar make up remover. One: I’m pretty sure I have never mentioned my enjoyment for power crunch bars…because they are not gluten free or lactose free. Most of my posts on chronic illness choices tend to be more positive and strict. Not even my family knows I enjoy them. Two: I never ordered the beauty products. I was making do with my old, pointless, 100 proof sunscreen and Jean Coutu cheap brand product. Where did these two come from?

Well, my initial moment of cynicism and drastic thoughts took me to the random thought of is there someone out there who actually follows my blog and sent me a package out of no where. Because that would be both cool, and scary at the same time. But since no one can get into my apartment, hopefully, I can still go to sleep tonight and worry about it tomorrow. Perhaps, even finish my annotation of readings for tomorrows class. I have been strangely productive today with attire quality, physical therapy and socialization through study appointment at library.

Oh, and I know apparently have Amazon Prime….

What A Night Y’all,

I.L. Knight

blogpostimagemail fix

Applause – Lady Gaga

A Topsy Turvy Day :

Here’s the thing:

 

I can’t help, but write about my health. It’s one of those things that becomes an all consuming void…pride? Relationship in your life? Still, after 2 years I somehow have not managed to accurately explain it to anyone. The frustration of it all. It’s invisible, you know! You are a child about it, you know. You look fine. You must have anxiety? Must not be able to handle the stress in becoming an adult in a modern world? You’ve adapted your mother’s issues. Damn it all, man. Damn it all. How do you explain something that no one will ever be able to see. Except, when you have black circles under your eyes from extreme lack of sleep during a flare, or a rash from your skin deciding it likes to have temper tantrums. Even then. It’s all fixable with some magic cream prescribed by a doctor. The wondrous marvels of modern medicine.

Anyways, I’m not here today, not present in some form of anchoring, to rant about the invisible pain in my life. Well, not that specific pain or any pain to be exact. I’m strangely here to talk about something good. Shocking, I know.

Tuesday, I faced a massive amount of apprehension about walking back into a school environment with an unsupportive Uni and professors who seemed to hate me for taking a medical leave due to becoming unable to walk properly. Hence, the equally invisible frustrations. Anyways, back to the point. I somehow did it. I survived the anxiety, left an hour early to walk up a giant hill at eight in the morning all without having time to do my morning stretches. I was a fat robot who struggled for an hour to get to a class I didn’t even know I could do. I mean, I was totally out of it. I had stayed up till 4 am the night before to do the readings I was supposed to do for the first day of class. It was a riveting set of film theory on studio films and how it applies to the development of cinema in China. News flash, it was another sense of fetishing the ‘Oriental’ as somehow being a child like country that white people loved to look at as enticing. A conspiracy of a Lolita reenactment going on as some sort of expected lens. Feh. White people. Although, it isn’t really fair of me to say that…considering even my insistence on a Jewish ethnicity can’t cover up the fact my bastard of a father I’ve never met before is as white as you can be. A good old U.K./French mix that made its way to Canada to only end up as a wannabe redneck in South Carolina. Apparently, a yellow pick up truck and a lucrative business in drugs was quite the enticing offer back in the 90’s.

Man, I’m really rambling on about all of this. I don’t know its like something is stuck in my head. Tuesday, was good though. I knew the professor very well. Three classes checked off on the list and it wasn’t hard to guess what his rambling was leading too. I had already learned he loves analytical metaphors, over zealous vocabulary and a hint of alliterations. Not that it is necessarily a bad thing if you have a writing style like mine: unorganized, spastic and completely dependent on the poetics of another fucking person. He’s a pretty great professor. Maybe that’s why the success in the class could only make me feel good. Not special. Not self assured. Not anything other than good. I had simply taken a step back into the stress pot of education at a pretentious Uni I hadn’t completely faltered on my first day. Yep, this invisible suffering outwardly bitchy female was doing good.

But Wednesday man, this day has been more than good. I fucking got away with only doing half the readings, falling asleep during the film screening and being completely silent during the actual lecture. I even saved enough coffee in my cup after 4 hours to be able to walk home. Ah, I hadn’t mentioned yet. I went to bed at 4 am on Tuesday. A friend I really need to keep at a distance due to her all consuming ability to extend everything to be about her self and her timeline made sleep impossible that night… I’m sure you are wondering, if you actually take time out of your day to stop by to this blog, how then did I seemingly do more than good? Well, not only did I never have this professor and she most likely heard terrible things with my somewhat destroyed reputation within my department, we managed to have a delightful conversation after class.

Part One a refreshing acceptance of the fact students can have disabilities or problems that you can’t necessarily see on their fucking face all the time. Even managing to ask what I might need during the year to make class actually be put on the same level as everyone else for me. Riveting, I tell you. Absolutely a fresh experience. Well known Unis’ often suck monkey dick.

Part 2 though is where I somehow managed to hit the nail on the head. I asked her about a simple sub point of a debate I had once back with the Professor from Tuesday about the difference between Modernism and Modernity. I told you over zealous and pretentious vocabulary works every time. Although, I happened to not agree with the insistent pop up of the word modernity everywhere. In case you don’t know the difference let me explain. Modernity is like a transitional movement where a culture or location goes from sort of point A to a point B. The transitional frame is colored in the ideals of Western industrialization and Western dipshitting around the East. Got to make people wear suits to reflect that they have officially entered into a ‘modern’ society. Modernism is not that. It is like the distinct choices one makes most likely within modernity to reach this point of ‘Modern’. An example would be the person moving from traditional work attire to a suit in order to display the new status of the individual within the society. Wow, even I think I sound smart reading this back… Too bad I’m not.

It was a total rip off, in a sense, of the fact Tuesday’s professor is crazy about the ideal and on Tuesday I watched the film Shadow Magic which is about the emergence of film in China. Told through fictional lens of course. Naturally, then I could pull out some off the cuff analytical bull crap about the locomotive movement of the story displaying an upward movement within society was actually a display of modernism and not modernity. The guy was going from the country side to an upcoming area of Tokyo. Now wore a suit to work and over the film was shown with foreign goods increasing around him as the plot went on. Modernism. The decisions made by a character within a transitional point of a narrative style of film.

I mean, the side readings were also annoying as hell. Western critics and their fetishing of the ‘Orient’ literally looks as the introduction of early film in Japan as some unique cultural experience. It’s really not that unique. Not for the people there. Think about it. Traditional forms of entertainment started as some form of silent moving spectacle that was than enhanced by a spectacle of music and a narrator to draw attention back to the silent spectacle in the background. So now the ‘silence’ was coming from tiny squares. No need to cause some pure film debates within society over it. Media changed not your cultural standards. And saying it was being used to police the environment? Please, whether it is the modern NHK or back in the age of Imperialism, Japanese authority has always used popular media to persist structured ideals within the common populace. It’s not even a unique Japanese method. Most states do it. Making an emphasis on how controlling it is, because now the films had more directly stated organized structure of social mannerisms versus cultural ideals isn’t a great argument. It’s annoying. It’s being over analytical to the point reaches several moments where people need to shout at you to just stop. An apple can be an apple. It doesn’t need to be a solid Cider or a solid juice…. My analogy sucks. Never mind.

Damn. I really did leave that class on cloud nine though. It was like someone handed me direct proof that I can actually do this. That brain fogs and a struggle to be the student you used to be was not an inhibition. Oh no. I was right to take this challenge upon myself. I was a fighter destined to grow beyond my family and past life experiences. Even if I couldn’t remember when the dynasties were or the names of the movies I’ve seen I could still recall the beating heart that made me fall in love with the Asian continent. A lack of words to portray it or not. My ties to the continent were a life link in the blood and in the marrow. I couldn’t help, but smile on my way home. Try to call every single one of my relatives and tell them I got this, while I felt the light breeze of an enjoyable cool Montreal winter day. The world was alive and full of colors and I had hope to be apart of it all. To not just exist anymore, but to find a way to live. I know it was awkwardly optimistic of me. I didn’t even mind that much that the same friend showed up twenty minutes late to our appointment at the office of student disabilities and then made us go to her coffee shop and suddenly tell me at mine that she didn’t have time, because she actually had a class. Strangely optimistic. I normally don’t get over things in the way of my morning coffee.

Here I am. In bed. Still, slightly feeling the remnants of this wonderful Wednesday and of the new Boruto episode this week. Still, a part of me knows that my struggles have just begun. That a large part of me will remain invisible and un-understandable. That I have a higher statistical chance of not meeting this challenge and finding acceptance of myself than actually succeeding. I most likely won’t get the summer internships I need, because of my Uni being a dick and money makes the world go around. Study Away? FEH. Who will get approved for that. And god forbid if I try to lose the weight from NOT BEING ABLE OT MOVE FOR LIKE 4 MONTHS.

Fun fact. Did you know there is like no fat people in Montreal. Not even among the foreign students? Yet, here I am getting looked at because I am now one size away from having to shop at obese stores and all you can look at me is like I AM FUCKED UP AND EAT TOO MUCH. News flash. I gained my weight from a dead metabolism. I actually don’t eat that much and struggle to move. Yet, I can’t scream it at the top of my lungs. I’d sound insane. And in public. I am a good southern girl. I smile as best I can and not be caught with the matches. However, do trust that I definitely have those matches. As the same friend mentioned through out this point does lovingly refer to me as being a bitchy cunt who is a horrible human being. Well, it was my joke in the first place. Can’t necessarily blame her for that.

Here’s the take away of all of this:

  1. I am still strangely optimistic; although, it has returned to be mixed with extreme apprehension.
  2. I forgot I have no classes on Thursday, so maybe I can catch up on sleep and go the gym. *snicker*
  3. I still desire a semicolon tattoo on the side of my wrist, because I am fucking idiot about trends when it comes to messages. Especially when they are ‘poetic’.
  4. Intj are actually the coldest people in the world and Intp are the warmest robots…. I am Intp.
  5. All hail Slytherin and HP rps.
  6. I have legitimately no real friends in Montreal and should probable commit on improving myself for once.
  7. Can you fail a paid community French class?
  8. If I get to Asia I will definitely feel worse about being fat. Partly because I’m American and that can be an annoying stereotype to be labeled with. I already have to fight hipster and weeboo, because of dumb people.
  9. I don’t know anything in life. Not really.

So, before I go to sleep I need to watch the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Because some article informed me Jewish women were wonderful representatives on female representation and anti-discrimination within Hollywood at the Golden Globes. I didn’t even see the award show. Although, I saw Natalie Portman’s quip. Fuck yea. Ani ohev et Israel. You kind of cause a lot of problems, but you gave the Jewish community Natalie Portman. By the way did you know the Jewish comedy lead actress isn’t Jewish? I mean, she sort of looks more Jewish than the Jewish actresses that get cast more often than stereotypical Jewish images, so I get it. You can be a MOT that brings the hammer at the Golden Globes.

I fucking love crude comedy,

I.L. Knight

P.s. I have listened to Joseph King of Dreams and The Prince of Egypt way too much today. I might have to re-compartmentalize my internal angst.

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Demons – Imagine Dragons

 

** The singer is my brother in Chronic Illness warrior training. Respect.**

On My Way Back :

So here I sit at the airport. Three hours early, just so I can avoid the potential issues of airport hell. Tiredly living in my beanie and over sized sweater. Glad I put on a face mask this morning, so at least my skin feels fresh and awake. And most of all feeling like some tired stereotype. I mean I am sitting at the one terminal cafe with a Snapple AND a hot tea. All while I blog about being at the airport. Come on. What am I even doing with my life?

Clearly, I have been checked out from everything the last few days from nerves. And today, I am just…. I don’t know? Numb and perpetuating the image of our generation everyone hates? Fuuuuuck.

I’m scared to be back in Canada. I’m unable to live in Florida. All my aspirations are painful. My actually life is painful. Fuuuuuck.

I don’t know what I am doing with my life.

Just waiting for the next step/milestone here,

I.L. Knight

MR-28845-503114-2

The Fear – Lily Allen

So Now We Got Butterflies… :

So a friend of mine decided to give me a sort of impromptu medicine reading. I guess that post workout would really help get me out of my all consuming panic attack. I think she severely underestimated my fear of butterflies.

That’s right. The first card I pulled was the butterfly. A card that apparently is all about transformation and change. Blegh. So to solve my falcon and wolf problem I need to embrace the changes that are happening in my life. Okay. I got the message. Next time can it come in another insect… A praying mantic, perhaps? I don’t want to fight my fear of change and my fear of butterflies.

Oh, the other card was Owl. Not surprising. I have always been drawn to owls and it has been assumed to be one of my totems. (deep menacing voice) “I am the great deceiver. Seer of the Truth. Seer of the Darkness.” (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧ Ah, that was fun for a moment.

I think the only thing I got out of it was laughter. A sort of confusion on why I have to think about such specific challenges like change, ambition, education and family. And I wonder if I am drawn to animals like crows then why is that not my totem, but another animal is…. I mean 5 seems like an oddly specific number.

I.L. Knight

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The Crow & The Butterfly – Shinedown

Soap

It’s funny. Here I am trotting along on my path to my own start up and a neighbor of mine turns out to be much later in the steps of his own. It’s quite the coinkydink if you ask me. Sure enough, I hadn’t realized I actually use his product. My mom was bringing it home to us every week. He makes soap. Now, now don’t laugh. If this was way back in the day he would be revered as a god of hygiene.

I will give him this though. It is special soap. Great soap. It’s called The CBD Skincare Co and they focus on soap that is actually good for people that have skin conditions. The owners have had issues with soap due to bad eczema and burned skin. When their daughter was going through a bad case of eczema they decided to try and make some soap that would help her. And they apparently did.

My mom switched my soap about 3 months ago and since then my skin has been pretty great. I do use a charcoal bar before I wash with it, because I am a clean freak. However, after the charcoal bar I wash down/scrub my body with their soap. It’s great that it doesn’t irritate my skin or cause any blotchy redness.

They asked me to comment on its effectiveness so they could see if it works for other skin conditions and how it would react to the CBD oil. For those of you who don’t know what that is it is an oil from hemp. Basically the part of a hemp plant that isn’t used for smoking. Which means you don’t need a medical marijuana card to use this soap. So far all you need is to want to take care of your skin.

That being said. If you are interested in trying a new soap that has been helpful for me, I suggest trying theirs. My whole family use it and we have a variety of skin issues. If you do try it hit me up on twitter or find another way to let me know. I want to make sure I tell them the truth about the product. Since it is made for those with skin problems before anything else. I can also help y’all possibly get a discount. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

Please try it and let me know!

I.L. Knight

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Soap – Melanie Martinez