Let's Talk About Common Decency

Yesterday, my mom was on her way to work when a cyclist cut her off. To avoid hitting him, she swerved, but her car hit an ice patch. She skidded into a ditch, wedging her vehicle between two trees. 

The damage to the vehicle was not as bad as it could be, but the front was pretty banged up. My mom was safe, and that's the important thing. The shocking fact?  No one pulled over and offered assistance. Nobody stopped to help. Not a single person went to check if she was alright.

Thankfully, she was safe, but this incident has me thinking about how people interact today. We are all trapped in our own worlds. We alienate ourselves from each other to the point that it is almost taboo to help one another. Sure, we think about stopping. But the bigger part of our mind tells us to move on. That person will be fine, and we're in a hurry. Someone else will help them.

But if not you, who is that someone else? We are all, after all, thinking that same thing, pushing the job onto someone else who will just hand it on.

Therein lies the problem. Stopping to help someone should not be seen as a job. I wouldn't go as far to say obligation, but yes, I actually would. It is our duty to each other as humans to help each other along, even in the simplest ways.  Besides, who doesn't benefit from the small natural-high one achieves after doing something good? By helping others we bring light to them and ourselves. 

Through even the smallest acts, we can pass on infectious kindness. Of course, it won't last forever, but what good things do? That doesn't mean it isn't worth it. 

So, next time you see someone trip, ask if they are okay. If there is even a small spark of a notion that you should pull over to offer someone assistance or stop to help someone gather the papers they spilled, do it. Remind them that others care. Be the person who stops. Show, sow, and share compassion. 

"Bad Boys"

Let's begin with this: Last night's episode of Supernatural pleased me immensely. That's episode 7 of season 9, "Bad Boys," we're talking about here, by the way.

In this episode, we were able to blissfully ignore all of the problems our boys are facing at the moment. No thinking about Crowley injecting himself with human blood, barely mention of Ezekiel's possession of Sam (and how he is PROBABLY Lucifer), and we didn't have to face the issue of Castiel's vulnerability and sadness as a human. Castiel just breaks my heart these days, so the holiday from that sore subject was nice. (All I want is for Team Free Will to be reunited with the addition of Kevin.)

"Bad Boys" brought back the Supernatural we all fell in love with. Ghost hunting and solving other people's problems. It also touched on the subject of John Winchester's shitty parenting, so that's a plus. Honestly, John was a horrible father. Selfish and obsessive. And I would not be beyond saying abusive, too. It is never blatantly stated, but this episode only reinforced my theory. But we also got to see how much Dean cares for Sam, and how he always has. Not that we don't know that, but it's nice to be reminded that he can be selfless.

Okay, I will admit it. I have been a bit upset with Dean this season. Lying and hiding truths from everyone won't solve any problems. It will just create them. You would think he would have grasped that by now, but nope! And let's not forget the selfishness of Dean actions this season: tricking Sam into having an angel possess him, then  not telling him about it is low enough. Sure, it was to save Sam's life, but Sam wanted to die. To be clear, I didn't want him to die. Obviously, Dean can't live without his brother (unhealthy codependency...), but I only see this creating massive problems later on.

Of course, it wouldn't be the Supernatural we all know and love without these massive problems.

This episode reminded me that Dean is a selfless character. He gave up his chance at happiness and a normal life for Sam. That's huge. And having a rare window into Dean's past is nice.

And it was great to see the Winchesters salting and burning corpses once again. They really returned to their roots this episode. What's not to love about that?

Heaven Can't Wait: A Reaction

There is going to be a pattern in my blogposts from now on. Every time a new episode of Supernatural airs that I feel strongly about, I will be compelled to write out my feelings. Like now. After watching episode 6 of season 9, "Heaven Can't Wait," I have many many feelings. Unsurprisingly, they are mostly about Castiel.

Poor Castiel was booted from the bunker by Dean, who was only trying to protect Sam. Honestly, I believe he should be trying to protect him from Ezekiel, who is PROBABLY  Satan. Cas is a helpless human now. He needs help. What did Dean do? He kicked him out without making sure Cas had a way to take care of himself. He left him all on his own.

Granted, he seems to be coping. Except he is homeless again. Way to go, Dean. You ass. I love Dean, but this season, he has made some poor choices. Didn't he learn that lying to people, especially important people like Sam and Cas, is a bad idea? I see a massive train wreck in the future. First, all these lies about Ezekiel. Sam doesn't even know Dean let an angel (WHO IS PROBABLY LUCIFER. JUST SAYING) posses him. Dean decided to be a douche and not tell Cas that Metatron's spell is irreversible. Wow, Dean. You're only going to hate yourself more when this all catches up to you. Seriously, I thought Dean was getting better. This is going to reverse all that healing we saw him experience.

This season has brought a lot of change, especially for Cas. He was thrown into humanity, stripped of his grace, and is expected to be normal? He isn't normal! I want to see Cas kicking demon and angel ass once more. Please. I also want him to get the trench coat back eventually, and to be happy. I just want all of the characters to be happy. I'm hoping that will happen by the end of season 10, even if it all means they are dead in heaven. Together, please. They are a family.

Cas was such a cutie this episode, though. That is an undeniable fact. I just miss old Cas. I welcome this character development, but I do want him to get better, too. I don't want him to stay helpless and in pain. I mean, obviously he's in pain, right? He feels lost and useless, and Ephraim could sense his anguish.  He never catches a break. I mean, did you see him tthinking he had a date? Then it totally went to shit. Pretty much like anything he tries,  the poor thing.

There were some scenes this episode that didn't seem to fit right with Castiel's character, but I am going to choose to ignore their awkwardness and call it growth.

AND CROWLEY. Addicted to human blood? Our King of Hell seems to have completely fallen from authority. Poor guy. I love Crowley. Sure, he's mister evil demon, but he's fair. Compared to Abaddon, who is stealing souls without contracts. This new taint of humanity in him is intriguing, and I am excited to see where the writers take it.

Overall, this was a good episode. I welcome any chance to watch a new episode of this show, particularly if it include my favorite character.

 

Pixie Perfect: How to Trim Your Own Hair

Back in January, around my eighteenth birthday, I decided to finally give in to my desired hair cut despite my fears that my face was too round and chubby. I went to a nice salon and had about a foot of hair chopped off in exchange for a nice pixie cut. It was probably the best choice I've made this year, because I am very pleased with this style. There's only one problem: the upkeep.

No, I don't mean using products and styling it. I never do that. Mostly because I don't need to, partially because I am far too lazy. I am talking about getting it recut every two months. Even though I go to the cheap places for that (like Great Clips etc.), it is still more expensive than I would like it to be. So, I have taught myself to reshape my own pixie cut.

That may not be worded correctly. I went with my gut feelings and hacked at my hair until it resembled something half decent. Don't listen to what I am saying if you are hesitant and have never tried trimming your hair before. I used to cut my own bangs all the time, so I had at least some idea of what I was doing. You're probably better off going to a legitimate hair dresser if you want something polished and clean-looking. I wanted a choppier style, so this is okay for me. Without further ado...


Here's what I used:

• hair scissors
• fine-toothed comb
• spray bottle
• hand mirror
• hat (in case of awful aftermath)

I started with what bothered me most: the hair around my ears. I cut around the ear, then polished the area around it, snipping it at slight angles to it didn't look so straight-edge.

Then, I followed the line of hair to the back of my neck. This part was tricky. Like most people,  I only have two hands and one set of eyes. I cut off the longer pieces at the back before moving on higher, evening out the curve of the hair style with small cutting motions.

The fringe was the easy part, because I've done it plenty of times. I ended up keeping the top of the cut longer, because attempting that is beyond my courage. I finished it up, and I had a hat ready. Thankfully, I don't need it because it turned out just fine. There are some pictures below of some different angles. (Of course, my facial expressions are uncomfortable. I hate taking pictures of myself, so this took many tries.)

 I am going to work more on giving myself my own hair cuts. Honestly, I am a bit of a control freak, so I like to be able to determine what I want to do with my hair rather than leave it in a stranger's hands. I've already practiced on my brother (a Halloween disaster). I think I will stick to using my own hair for testing from now on. I like the result!

Revival!

After I finish a book, I go through a sad trough of missing my old characters, wanting to write, and perhaps toying with the idea of looking for an agent. (I even send in queries to torture myself.)

Friends, this is to announce that I have risen from my trough! No more pouting, no more unwarranted mopeyness! It is time to spring back up into fictional worlds. Not only that, but I am returning to the fantasy genre to reacquaint myself with my first original characters. I am quite excited (and I have already started the first chapter) because I feel that I know these characters well. The only thing I have left to do is set up a story and watch it unfold (and possibly snare up like a broken sewing machine's thread, but those are concerns for later).

Writing is something that truly makes me happy, so getting enveloped in a new (or old) world of my creation is quite thrilling.

Beginning a new book is the best feeling in the world because there is minimal worry and stress. I'm the kind of writer that has a vague understanding of the story's skeleton as I start out, but it may change later on. Nothing is permanently fixed in my head when I write. I always open a few paths for my imagination to travel.

Enough talk. I just wanted to share my excitement. Now, I am off to write!

Message to a Younger Meghan (aka Me.)

Occasionally, as I am surfing my online prison of tumblr, I stumble across posts detailing how we would like to punch our freshman-year selves, throttle the versions of us that habited our bodies during those perilous junior-high years. I usually laugh (in my head) and agree, but the other day I was thinking. I know who I am and who I have been. I know how things impact me as a person. Having someone walk up to me, let alone my future self, and punch me in the face would scar me. Even if the punch wasn't physical, even if it hadn't been my future self (because honestly that just isn't happening), I know I would have curled up into a ball and retreated to some self-loathing corner of my mind.

At eighteen, in the scheme of things I'm not much older now than I was in junior-high. Still, I know I have grown as a person, gaining some degree of confidence in myself through high school. Back before my gradual changes, I shriveled at the thought of speaking to people, and I hated myself almost as much as I hated the rest of the school. It's a typical thing to be a negative thirteen year old, I suppose, but it was not a healthy way of thinking. I viewed people who wore Uggs and Abercrombie as the enemy, not to be spoken to or acknowledged. I thought it was me against everyone else, and I am sure others thought that way, too. However, that behavior doesn't warrant a sock in the jaw. No, I think that only would have made things worse.

Instead, if I happened across my shapeless, awkward, past-self, I would sit down and offer the cookies I used to bake nearly every weekend back then. I'd probably sigh and hum a little, because I am awful at starting conversations. Then, before thirteen-year-old-Meghan could sidle away, I'd break it down for her.

I would explain that the world isn't an enemy, and that the people I wasted so much time hating are just as insecure. That she needs to open her eyes a bit wider and step onto the path that is paved for awhile. Trying to separate yourself only makes things more difficult. That it is better to focus on the good around, those who love you, than what it broken and crumbling. And of course, the classic "life isn't fair." Because life can't be fair. You just have to accept the bad and move on. It isn't fate's job to balance the good and the bad; it's yours. What is good in the world all depends on what you see around you. It's a bit like an Instagram filter that way, you could say. We're all looking the same matter, but the tone of it is based on your angle. I would tell her to wake up and pay attention to others, especially the ones you judge most harshly, and try to place yourself in those status-building clothes. People, on the inside, are mostly the same.

But I would say all of this gently. Kindly. Because that is what she needed.

Then I would tell her to forget everything I'd just said. She did end up figuring out on her own, didn't she? That phase helped me grow as a person into what I am today, just as my current outlook will help me develop in the future.

The Meghan of the past is still in there somewhere, I guess. The only difference is that now, I know how to treat her.