Pray for France

If 30 Australians drowned in Sydney Harbour, it would be a national tragedy. But when 30 or more refugees drown off the Australian coast, it is a political question.

Richard Flanagan

I woke up this morning angry. Angry that this happened. And angry at the reaction from many of my friends and family. I usually try to stay quiet on issues such as this because I live in circumstances where expressing a differing "opinion" from those around me results in being a labeled a "crazy liberal looney" or being accused of "attacking" those with a differing opinion, rather than just offering a different point of view (which is 99.9% of the time the reality of the situation). But I have been moved past fear of ostracization during this time of tragedy and wish to present you all with a quick history lesson. 

On December 7, 1941 tragedy struck the United States Naval base on Pearl Harbor. The Japanese forces violently attacked our nation seemingly unprovoked and this made us understandably very angry. 

Our nations reaction do these attacks however, would live on as a glaring black spot on our history. 

Japanese internment camp after the Pearl Harbor attacks

The American people were quick to generalize and as a nation we came to the conclusion that our Japanese enemies represented all people of Japanese decent. Thus resulting in the internment of all American citizens of Japanese decent. 

actor George Takei shares his experience in a Japanese Internment camp

And now I see friends and family suggesting we do the same, or worse, to our Muslim neighbors. We yell, "The Muslims did this! The Muslims must pay!". The Muslims did not do this, a terrorist extremist group called "ISIS" did. 

If the anti-Muslim sentiment wasn't bad enough during this time of tragedy, the world is also in the midst of a massive Syrian refugee crisis. Being confused about the crisis when it first hit the media I did some research into the situation and found these helpful video's that really sum up the situation well that I'd like to share with you all now. 

 

I've seen many people on my facebook feed claiming that we absolutely cannot let these refugees into our country now! They are Muslims! They are terrorists! 

Some quick research taken from mostly unbiased sources can prove that this is simply not the case. The refugees involved in the crisis are not even all Muslim, many our Hindu, or Christian. And the purpose of their fleeing is not to bring the same terror of their home country they are trying to escape to us, if you think about that for more than a second you realize that conclusion simply doesn't make any sense. 

Muslims are not synonymous with ISIS anymore than Christians are synonymous with the Westboro Baptist Church or the KKK. 

The enemy here is not Muslims, people of Muslim decent or the refugee's from Syria. 

The enemy here is ISIS. 

And now more than ever we must unite the world against their evil ways.

Thank you for your time. 

-Ellen 

Most of My Friends are Boys

“I'm ADD and psychic. I know things ahead of time but lose track of which is which.” 
― S. Kelley Harrell



Living with ADD/ADHD can be a daily struggle for anyone. It's hard to sit through a class, it's hard to know what thoughts are worth saying and what thoughts should be kept to yourself and you usually have a minimum of 10 ideas colliding in your mind at once.
While living with ADHD is tough for anyone who suffers from the illness I want to use this blog post to talk about girls. Being a girl with ADD/ADHD is especially difficult because most of society doesn't expect it from you. I remember sitting in my Ed Psych class my freshman year and being told, "ADHD is usually found in boys, it's actually fairly rare to have a female student with this disability". I remember sitting there after being told this and thinking, "wow... I really must be weird then".

Girls with ADHD suffer from many alienating difficulties specific to their gender. To name a few;
-Acing "lady like" is harder for us. We have trouble sitting still and reading social cues.
-We often have messy handwriting. And believe me, there's nothing more embarrassing than the teacher calling out, "There's a paper with no name on it if somebody wants to claim it, it has messy handwriting so I think it's a boys" and then having to sulk up to the front of the class to claim your paper with "boy handwriting".
-girls are expected to be more still. More preserved. (Which is garbage but that's a blog post for another time) Needless to say girls with ADHD are not that.
-Girls with ADHD are messy. They often times simply forget to clean up after themselves. Which is another trait more often contributed to the male gender (again this is garbage, but a blog post for another time).
-We often have difficulties with fine motor skills as well, which makes doing "girly" things like putting your hair up, doing make up or crafting, very difficult for us.

I can speak from experience when I say growing up as a girl with ADHD often times makes it very hard to fit in, in traditionally feminine spaces. A lot of my close friends growing up were boys because I simply fit in with them more. I had a much better time running around outside than staying inside and playing house. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that!

I wrote this post to let the girls with ADD/ADHD know that they aren't broken. You aren't weird. You're you and that's fantastic!

This is for the girls who have always had to say,  "Most of my friends are boys".
-Ellen

Life is What Happens

Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.

John Lennon

Today I threw away my plans. No I don't think you understand... I literally threw away a piece of paper I have kept for over a year now that had my plans for my life outlined, point by point. I had kept it tucked away in my pencil holder at my desk in my cubicle at my summer job. Whenever I would start to feel down I would pick it up, unfold the piece of paper, and remind myself to keep my eyes on the prize. Scribbled at the bottom was the quote, "Tell me, are your afflictions dear to you?", providing a constant reminder that if I allow myself to become resigned to a situation I don't like, I am essentially holding that situation near and dear to my heart. Laziness is the enemy of happiness and contentedness. 

But today. Today I threw that paper away. 

"But Ellen, Why would you throw something so important away? Nothing is wrong about making goals!"

You're absolutely right! There is nothing wrong with keeping an end goal in mind whilst going about your everyday life. The issue lies in the plan. This wasn't simply a piece of paper that said "someday I'm going to do____". This paper had bullet points. This paper had a detailed timeline. And most importantly, this paper had A LOT of scribbled out words. 

-"Get a teaching job!" became "get a good starter job in marketing!"

-"Either don't get married or wait until you have a career!" became "eehhhhhh I guess you can get married and still have a career"

- "Learn how to make a new kind of guacamole recipe!" became "DO NOT DO THIS YOU ARE VERY ALLERGIC TO GUACAMOLE"   

Well... maybe that last one was an exaggeration... I am allergic to guacamole though... 

The point is... my plan kept changing. 

And that's okay! That means I'm growing and becoming more of the person I'm meant to become. But that also means I can't be keeping around pieces of paper with my entire life planned out in blue ink. It's unreasonable to think you can plan everything out with a ballpoint pen and a yellow legal pad. Life is far too complicated and magnificently bizarre to ever be reduced to that sort of thing. However life is also filled with way too many amazing opportunities and adventures to simply throw up a white flag and say, "well. I guess this is something". Keep you goals tattooed on your heart, not on a spreadsheet. 

Today. I threw my plans away. But let me ask you, are your afflictions dear to you?

-Ellen 

The Punchline

"The bad thing about being a famous comedian is that every now and then someone approaches me to tell an old joke. Don't tell me jokes - I have that. People also say the weirdest things, sometimes sarcastic things, and even evil things. They like to provoke to get a reaction."

- Robin Williams 

      If I'm being completely honest with all of you I had every intention of abandoning this blog months ago. And I followed through with those intentions for a very long time. However recently I've felt inclined to pick it back up instead of leaving it in a box on a street corner "with free to a good home" written on the side, for the sole purpose of writing this post. 

    When you first meet me I will come off as very shy. And I'll probably come off that way for the first few months we know each other if I'm being completely honest. (If you listen closely you can hear the sounds of people who have known me for years and know me as anything but "shy" laughing at the fact I would ever claim such a thing). But it's true. I will stand in corners and not participate, maybe murmur a joke every now and again. That's because I'm waiting to find out how to position myself as the punchline.

      I was in 4th grade when I first discovered the magic of the position of punchline. It was a year after I had been diagnosed with ADHD and Anxiety and in my 9 year old brain that all meant I was crazy. It meant that nothing I could ever say would ever be considered valid and it meant despite how everyone acted towards me, no one was ever really listening to me. It meant I was stupid, a burden, not really worth anyone's time. But then one day on the playground I found it. I was sitting with a friend of mine next to the kick ball court quoting Spongebob (as most 9-22 year old's do) when I proclaimed, "I'M UGLY AND I'M PROUD!".

She laughed. 

She called people over. 

They were paying attention to me. 

"huh" I thought... "I'm ugly and I'm proud."

     Now of course I didn't actually think I was ugly. But I did think I was stupid, clumsy, lazy, ect. So I started to make jokes about these things-

"ha, classic me, can't figure this thing out... I'm so stupid!" *cue laugh track*. 

After this sort of self deprecating humor continued for awhile I had taken my throne as the punchline of my group of friends. I was the one you made fun of because I wouldn't fight back, I would laugh along with you. My reign as punchline lasted many years and many different groups of friends. I was getting the attention I had always craved but I couldn't help the feeling that although all of these people were paying attention to me, I still wasn't really being listened to. I wasn't a whole person.... I was the joke. I was the satire, I was the irony, I was the comedic relief when everyone else needed it. The things I said were funny, the situations I found myself in were funny, my existence was funny. 

When I got accepted to a good school I felt like I couldn't share my excitement with anyone... because that wasn't funny. 

When I got the big solo I told very few people... because that's not something the punchline would do. 

Getting inducted into the National Honor's Society???? Where's the humor in that???

Punchline's trip on banana peels. 

Punchline's get squashed by falling anvils. 

Punchline's get slapped by handles of unsuspecting rakes. 

Punchline's  do not win awards. 

It was the end of my senior year I realized the throne I sat on was made of barbed wire. 

I no longer wanted to be the punchline. 

But how do you have a voice when it's not reciprocated by laughter?

I'm still struggling with the idea that people would really care about what I have to say and that my opinions are just as valid as those around me. I spent so many years sitting on my rusty throne that I'm still pulling metal splinters out from my side and slapping bandages of validity over the scars they leave. 

But this I know, I am no longer the joke. And you don't have to be a joke to be important. 

You are valid and important. You are not below your peers. 

You don't have to be the punchline. 

-Ellen 

Two Decades

“When you're young, you always feel that life hasn't yet begun—that "life" is always scheduled to begin next week, next month, next year, after the holidays—whenever. But then suddenly you're old and the scheduled life didn't arrive. You find yourself asking, 'Well then, exactly what was it I was having—that interlude—the scrambly madness—all that time I had before?” 
― Douglas Coupland

Uh... umm.... hey guys, It's, uh.. it's been awhile. Ha. Sorry about... that. I do however, have an excuse. I have been extraordinarily busy with school work and a couple of special side projects, including a nifty little web show called, "In Earnest" which you can find here. I've also been working on writing some music, working in the dish room, hosting a radio show, doing some stage work and spreading my little social butterfly wings. All the while with the knowledge that the impending doom of the number "20" was waiting for me, lurking just around the corner.

Well.

November 19th was the day. It was the day I was  forced to meet that terrifying number and come to terms with the fact that I am no longer in fact, a teenage dirt bag, baby.

                                        

November 19th I traded in my teen angst for a healthy serving young adult existential crisis. Although the thought of being a "20 something" is admittedly a terrifying one, the more I've thought about it, the more ready for it I am. The more I realize how much I have grown from this time last year in ways I didn't think I could. 

Last year I tasked myself with a list of "birthday resolutions" to accomplish before the big 2-0. This list included a multitude of things, notably;

• Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Instead of sitting around on the internet all day wallowing in self-pity get up and do something. I did get up and do something, a lot of something, in fact I did so many somethings I haven't even had time to post to this blog in months
• Being sad is not romantic or tragically beautiful. Be Happy. Anyone who's been around be recently can attest to the fact that I am smiling a lot more than I was this time last year
• Realize that the future is a crazy place filled with who knows what. Just because you're working towards something right now, that does not mean that's that. Well I recently changed my major from education to Marketing. Needless to say this was not something I had planned for the future. 

This post isn't just about my existential crisis ridden entrance into young adulthood, This post is about growth.

 This time last year I was depressed. I had zero motivation to do anything and the thought of going back to school after Thanksgiving break to deal with finals and term papers was enough to send me into devastating panic attacks. This Thanksgiving break, the thought of going back to school barely phased me and was in fact almost welcomed. Over Thanksgiving break I came to the realization that since last year, I have entered into a new stage of life. I no longer crave my return to my hometown on breaks. As much as I love my family, I enjoy the independence of spending time away from them. I want to take charge of my own life rather than have someone else take care of everything for me.

Growth has always been a scary thing to me. But since I've allowed myself to grow I've become much happier and content with my current life stage. The swirling vortex of confusion and doom called my future, has become the cave of treasures yet to be uncovered in the dark.

Let yourselves grow, Friends.

-Ellen

Oh Captain, My Captain.

"You're only given one little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it."

Robin Williams

Last night around 10 p.m I found myself standing with my mother in the middle of our kitchen crying my eyes out over the death of a man I have never met. I felt as if I had lost a very close family friend or even that one goofy uncle you don't see that often, but when you do, it's the best day of your life. Judging from different reactions I've seen from not only from people I know personally, but also those across the internet, many of you felt the same way. So why is it that we all feel as though we've lost our dear Uncle Robin? Why are we all so terribly heart broken by this death, rather than the death of any other celebrity? 

                                               (internet celebrity/songwriter/personality, Toby Turner, posted this video in response last night)

I think the answer lies in a couple of things. The first is that none of us could have possibly seen this coming. Here was a person, who made a career out of making other people happy. Who seemed to always be mid joke. Who to many of us, was a sort of ray of sunshine we could always keep around when we needed a pick me up. So how could it be that this man, who many of us grew up with, could be so sad that he made the decision to take his own life? How could it be that someone so loved, so admired, could have such a great darkness inside him? Many of us had almost immortalized this man in our minds, and to see him go in this way felt like we we're all simultaneously being hit in the chest with a ton of bricks. 

The grief felt  is, I think, also due to the fact that, well, we kind of did lose our goofy Uncle Robin. I can think of very view childhood movies that I held dear to my heart that he was not a part of. Whether it was Ferngully, Flubber, Aladdin, Jumanji,Hook or so many more; these movies we're an integral part of shaping me into the person I am today. And then as an adolescent and young adult watching movies like Dead Poets Society and Good Will Hunting, movies that would and will haunt me for years to come. Not only did we welcome this mans humor and deeper thinking into our home with open arms via movies and television, we welcomed his authenticity and genuine care for others. We spent time listening about his work with St. Judes Children's Hospital. We watched him go visit the troops overseas on numerous occasions. We read stories about nothing but good encounters people had with the man. 

We all feel this great loss because well, in a sense, we did know him. He was that close family friend or goofy Uncle. Or at least, he was genuine and real enough to make us all fee that way. 

-Ellen 

when do you think you'll grow out of it?

"What makes Superman a hero is not that he has power, but that he has the wisdom and the maturity to use the power wisely."

-Christopher Reeve

I absolutely LOVE superheros. When a new Marvel movie comes out I'm one of the first people there to
see it, oohing and ahhing through out the entire thing.

I'll spend MONTHS trying to work out in my mind how it's possible that Howard Stark be Tony Stark's
father, when Howard was in his mid 20's in the 1940's and Tony is in his late 30's during present times.

as soon as this

starts playing at the beginning of each Marvel movie, I'm already emotionally invested in the story that's about to take place.

I will cry in the middle of a crowded theater over the now strained relationship between Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

However whenever I express this love of superheros to people the response I usually get is;

"so... when do you think you're gonna grow out of it?"

Uh.. well... hopefully never?????

I hope I never stop caring about nerdy nobodies who turn into New York's one and only friendly neighborhood Spider-man! Or troubled Norse gods who would take over entire planets if only to prove themselves to their adoptive father (you knew you weren't getting out of this without a Loki reference right?)!

This question of "when do you think you'll grow out of it" has sparked more questions in my mind about our societies view of maturity, and how to be honest, I think it's bit skewed. These thoughts have also been brought up by being told on numerous occasions that I will "grow into" things such as wanting diamonds for my birthday, or caring about what's really in fashion, even though I'm already almost 20 years old.

To me, maturity has little to nothing to do with the fact that I like superheros at 19 years old or that I would rather receive Season 9 of Supernatural on DVD than diamond earrings on my birthday. To me maturity has very little do with what you like or what you wear and more to do with how you handle certain situations.

How well do you handle things not working out the way you wanted them to?

How strong is your work ethic?

How often do you talk about people behind their backs?

How often do you think about what other people might think of your new haircut?

How self aware are you?

These are just some of the many factors I feel contribute more to the maturity of a person than whether or not they would sell their left leg to go to comic-con so they can dress as wolverine in a conference center and have Hugh Jackman sign their home made claws.

Who's to say that the person who would sell their right arm to get tickets to the super bowl is any more mature than the person mentioned above?

Maturity has to do with the complexity and depth of a person and how aware of this complexity and depth the person is. The mature person also has to consider how their own complexity and depth effects that of those around them. Imagining all people complexly, you must ask, "if I say and do this thing... how will it hurt or help the people around me?".

A week or two ago I took my little brother to go see "The Amazing Spider-Man 2". Sitting next to me was an elderly couple, by themselves, no grandchildren or children in sight. The couple stayed through the credits, letting me know that this was not the first time they had gone to a Marvel movie together, and were aware of the classic Marvel post credits extra scene.

While sitting next this elderly couple during the sneak peek preview for "X-Men: Days of Future Past" that rolled after the Spider-Man credits I couldn't help but think;

"I wonder when they'll grow out of it?"

-Ellen