Yvette Guilbert

Yvette Guilbert.

The ultimate over-indulged celebrity during the fin-de-siècle. Her husky, raunchy voice would blare songs about the lower-class life or being drunk in nightclubs and cabarets in Montmartre.

Although she was not the most talented performer in her day, she was popular. Why? The recognition of her materialized black gloves and her smooth, satin dress made her known. Monsieur Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec captured this image here, along with every other Parisian artist trying to pay his rent or get another glass of absinthe, and certainly dramatized this iconography.

Look at her face. Her features are almost indistinguishable. Her red lips, however, are bold and daring…demonstrating the familiarization with feminism and lipstick. The broad, vigorous paint strokes evoke a sense of bewilderment, but satisfaction. Yes, you could say Mademoiselle Guilbert had the easy life.

Easy life - what an unfamiliar concept. What would I give to go back in time and gallivant with the bohemians? Just think, living a life of near-complete independence…no worries, no stress, no cares. I may be implying too much of a strain on this concept, but the idea is there. That’s all that matters.

Welcome to the Real World

It's late. Or should I say early?

I cannot stand teenagers in our society today. Sometimes I feel naive and stupid for being so oblivious as to what my peers are actually doing. It's sick. It's revolting. It's degrading.

I come from a conservative, moral, and loving background - and I tend to befriend others who fall under the same category. If you take a group of rather "good" kids, you will see that they are relatively happy, positive, and compassionate. Now, take that group of kids and place them beside another group of kids who are habitually smoking, drinking, and drugging. You will come to find that there is a great contrast of emotions and feelings. I do not understand why someone would have to rely on a substance, especially an addictive and harmful substance, to find relief from their "oh so troubled" world. Depression seems exceedingly contagious amongst teenagers, that it's almost pathetic. Emo-infested adolescents cry that their lives are completely worthless, so they might as well just die now. That's disgusting. I'm sorry, I tend to favor life and hope to prosper a lifestyle that is worthwhile.

So what got me into thinking this at 2:29 in the morning? Well, I guess you can say it is a mix of thoughts. I was thinking about Xanga...I'm not sure why though. Yet, Xanga, for one, is the ultimate breeding ground for teens to angst about their sorrowful lives. Yet, I am not saying that all Xanga members are like that, there are a good number of people who are true to themselves and have more impressible posts that I actually enjoy reading. Being a Xanga member myself, I favor posting the most random things just to give people a smile. However, I've established my Xanga retirement for next week...which means I will not be part of that community anymore. As ridiculous as it sounds, my decision to leave Xanga is almost difficult. I have many friends on Xanga, and some of them begged me to keep posting. I'm flattered, I would've never imagined that posting pictures of barbeques or talking about simple things such as the rain would captivate people's attention to the point that they will actually miss them. But I'm tired. I'm stressed, and right now I'm not handling my priorities as well as I could. I have realized that I have one year left of highschool, meaning I need to start taking an initiative as to where I want to go to college. I am not going to let my homework pile up and eventually put me in a position where I am crying because I have so much to do. I am not going to make excuses for myself to procrastinate, although these habits are excruciatingly hard to break. I am strong, and I know I can do it. And one step along the way is to limit my online activities, and I've spent an obscene amount of time with Xanga that it is almost sick. There's something inside of me telling me that life will be okay with Xanga, and I must do it. I will do it. If it comes to the point where tears are involved with this, I'm still going. Unlike many teens today, I have the willpower and the strength to say no and move on.

I need to go to sleep. I wish myself pleasant dreams...