March 2015

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March 2015

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CONTENTS

STAFF President Bakhtawar Riaz

Editor-in-Chief Caitlin P. Jones

Copy Editor Emma Labelle

Secretary Sobia Riaz

Staff Writers Candace Ellison Amanda Ferreira Zafer Izer Jack Smye

Contributors L.A. Bonté Katrina Gormley Cassie McCoy Sharniya Vigneswaralingam

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5 Filbert Cartoons 6 A Patio on Bellecour 8 What to Watch 9 Mandate/ Submission Guidelines 10 How it Feels to be an Introvert 12 Don’t Forget, You’re Asian!

14 Fear 15 Horoscopes 16 The Problem with Perfect 18 How to Make 30 Cheap Burritos

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editor’s letter

W

e’re nearing the end of another school year, and sometimes I forget how fast the time goes. I’ve been in Peterborough for quite some time, and every time an academic year comes to a close I can’t help but reflect on my time here. It’s interesting the way that academic years mark time in very different ways than the final day of the Gregorian Calendar. I feel much more pensive and a lot less prepared for a hangover.

There are a lot of changes happening at Trent, and while I’d like to turn a blind eye to much of it, I’ve still somehow been sucked in.

I am interested to see how new students perceived this institution of ours, so if you have a strong opinion about Trent, hit us up on Twitter, or feel free to shoot us an email.

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A Patio on Bellecour Zafer Izer

“Juan more pint, monsieur?”

“Yes, please.”

I can tell the waitress disdains me because, first of all, she is addressing me in English, which is totally unnecessary. Considering that Lyon is tied with Marseilles for the second-biggest city in France (well, the debate’s always raging on, anyway) it has a comparatively less touristic vibe, despite being somberly beautiful in its own way. It’s almost like the Durham Region of France. As a result the folks here that I do business with daily

work through a philosophy reading and try in vain to develop an idea for an article for the Absynthe.

Sunlight bathes the wide square dominated by a Ferris wheel and a gargantuan metal Louis XIV riding a horse. Strangely opulent peasants mill about underneath, doing their shopping.

“Will zat be all?”

“Whuh… Yeah. No. Yes. Sorry. Bring me another croque-monsieur.”

The waitress sighs and rolls her eyes, making it abundantly clear that she sees through my sham. I can try as hard “I roll and light another one now, waiting for my order as a few as I want to assimilate into the European clouds budge in front of the sun and briefly cast Bellecour into world of culture and efshadow, though the cathedral on top of the hill that rises just be- ficiency by smoking on yond Ferris wheel still sparkles brilliantly.” patios, daydrinking with my readings and eating interact with me in French despite being able to ham sandwiches. But no amount of mimicking discern that I am not native—because they know the French will hide what I really am—a boor, a I’m making an effort, I suppose. It’s just good provincial, an intellectual runt who was coddled manners. This girl (and it’s a shame because she’s his whole life then shunted through a North Amerquite pretty, and I definitely saw her eyeing my ican university (read: overpriced daycare), and very Canadian moose sweater earlier), evidently who had now arrived to try and fake it abroad, assumes me to be a moron of so little intelligence but who had fallen, immediately and thoroughly, that she thinks carrying on in her broken English out of his depth. I squint at her indignantly. She will help me better process the intricacies of our looks derisively over my books, pens, beer glasstransaction. Secondly, in all fairness, I may be es, tobacco pouch and lighters scattered across overstaying my welcome. I have been parked at a three tables. She wants me to pack up the books, table on this patio for a pretty long time, steadily the pens, and the cigarettes and give up, I know. consuming pints of Edelweiss while I alternatively Well, the jokes on her. I got lotsa cigarettes left.

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I roll and light another one now, waiting SQUIRE?” “I’ll probably just stay at this spot and get for my order as a few clouds budge in front of the sun and briefly cast Bellecour into shadow, drunk, to be honest.” The fact that establishments though the cathedral on top of the hill that rises in France tend to function as café, bar, or both just beyond Ferris wheel still sparkles brilliantly. “...I was sitting in this exact spot when my friend Ed, another The weather here, even exchange student from Manchester, noticed me while walking taking seasonal changpast and came to sit down, lighting a Lucky Strike. “ es into consideration, is remarkably temperate and constant. Between September and February depending on the time of day made things very there has barely been a single day where the tem- straightforward for me. perature stayed out of the ‘teens, and there is vir- “I’LL SEE YOU’S HERE THEN, CHAMP.” My beer and sandwich waft over to me in tually no wind, like, ever. For a guy who is used to the soul-crushing extremes of Canadian seasonal the arms of the girl waitress. weather, it has been a little surreal, a little dream- “Nine euro.” like. I think it may be distorting my sense of time.

“There you go, mademoiselle. Say, any

Sometime this morning, I think (well any- chance you guys got any other channels on that way, it was in the morning, and it definitely hap- TV? Cartoons or a nature show or something? It’s pened sometime this week or last) I was sitting been the dumb news all day.” in this exact spot when my friend Ed, another The waitress, if possible, looks even more exchange student from Manchester, noticed me disgusted at my continued existence. “Zey are inwhile walking past and came to sit down, lighting terviewing ze wife of ze editor of Charlie Hebdo, a Lucky Strike. who was killed.”

“THERE’S THE CUNT.”

“I mean sure, those ISIS guys are no good,

He held the box of darts out to me. but does it really—”

“No thanks, not now.”

“And she is a hero.”

“Because her husband got shot for draw He thrust it out further, frowning.

“Oh, alright then.” I took one. “How you ing pictures of a rabbi fucking Mohammed—?”

“Ça va?” The manager, a tanned, portly been, Ed?”

“OH I’M SOUND, MATE. BIT HUNGOVER man in a red tie, happens to be walking by, and THOUGH, EH? ENDED UP STAYIN’ OU’ UNTIL leans in towards our table now with a greasy THE METRO STARTED AGAIN IN THE MORNIN’ smile. I begin to explain in French that there is no SO I WOULDN’T ‘AVE TO WALK ALL THE WAY trouble. The waitress cuts me off, addressing the TO DEBOURG BY MYSEL’.” man, her French too quick and harsh for me to make out, although I definitely hear the word “ridi “Yeah, good call.”

He drank hungrily from his pint, which had cule”, her voice dripping contempt and her arms just arrived, and exhaled happily. “REMEMBER gesturing high up into the air.

“Monsieur, is what mademoiselle ‘ere is THAT FIT SWEDISH LASS?”

“Of course. You two hook up?” telling me true? You ‘ave an incorrect opinion

“NAH, BUT I DID A RIGHT NUMBER ON about ze attacks on our freedom?”

‘ER TOILET. I GOT MY BEERIOD.”

“What!? No! I think it was a horrible tragedy

“I know how you feel, bud. It’s all this con- what those people suffered, and it’s just a huge stant drinking and café food.” shame they had to provoke the terrorist groups—”

“HEARD ABOUT THE LATEST ISIS HOS- The manager’s smile widened threateningly. “Provoked?”

TAGE?”

“Yeah, I—”

“They were drawing all sorts of horrible im “FUCKIN’ SHITSHOW, INNIT?” ages, things that would offend anyone, let alone a

“Well, it’s—” religious fanatic—just to get a rise out of the pub “ANYWAY, IS YOU GOING OU’ TONIGHT, lic. It’s cheap. Was any of it really good writing?

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Sure, Free Speech is important, but isn’t it how you use it, as well?”

The manager laid two hands flat on my table and leaned in close, his nostril-breath blowing all over my face. “Zat… Is quite enough, monsieur.”

I really don’t need this. Long ago, I passed my threshold of the acceptable number of times to get my head bitten off by a French person. Even my cuddly sweater with the moose on it, which is supposed to tell people that I’m a lovably dimwitted Canadian who deserves kindness, seems to be losing its power. My philosophy professor passed by recently (it was dark, I think, but I was drinking coffee, so early morning I guess) and tossed a few papers on my table. She was scowling for some reason, even though I was leaning back to display as much of the moose image as I could.

“That’s what we covered. Although you wouldn’t need them if you just came to class.”

“Yeah, sorry, it’s just been… I actually caught another cold, if you’ll believ—”

“Ah, oui?”

“Yeah.” Sniff.

“Well, make sure you come next week because there’s a mandatory test.”

“On the Sophists? But we just started—”

“No. On your opinions on ISIS.”

“What!? What the hell is the point of that?”

She spun away, snorting. “Typical. Doesn’t care…”

I found myself unexpectedly missing the overpriced daycare waiting for me back at home.

Anyway, Ed knows he’s not supposed to ask me anymore how school is going. I wish he’d get the same hint about my lovelife too.

“SO THE SEX IS GOOD?”

“Well, not great. But, yeah, it’s good.”

“AND YOU IS RATTLED BECOOS SHE WANTS TO SPEND MORE TIME WITH YEH?”

“Well, it’s like… I can’t adapt to the different ways people live, man. I can’t change my whole schedule, like. I got lots of reading and drinking I need to be doing. And it’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything.”

“SO WHAT IS SHE?”

“I dunno, she’s… she’s bae.”

“WHAT IN THE FUCK IS A ‘BAE’?”

“Monsieur? Monsieur?” Oh, right. The 8 absynthe magazine

The mandate of Absynthe Magazine is to encourage constructive dialogue and critical thinking within the Trent community. As an on-campus publication, Absynthe shall strive to represent as many people of the community as possible by presenting varying views on all matters that are of importance to the community and especially the student body. In the spirit of free and independent press, Absynthe shall strive for the highest degree of journalistic integrity and excellence while providing a medium for creative and alternative expression. It will actively stimulate and encourage discussion through itself or any other means available to members of the Trent community.

manager is snapping his fingers in front of my face. “You ‘ave been always drinking ‘ere, spending money.” He gestures at my phone charger attached to the wall, the piles of books, paper, and paraphernalia, my sleeping bag lying under the table, the small tent I created out of tablecloths.

“You ‘ave literally not left zis patio in months, but you pay good money, so I cannot ask you to leave.

But try, monsieur, to behave yourself by our standards while you are ‘ere!”

A pair of blonde girls with big round sunglasses and mocking laughter approach as the manager waddles away.

“Hey, we heard you speaking English with the waiters.”

“Where in America are you from?”

“That moose sweater is hilarious, are you from Minnesota?”

Simultaneously: “What do you think about ISIS?” ■

Submission Guidelines: Absynthe is a submissionsbased magazine. Any Trent student who wishes to be published can send their work to us at trentbasynthe@gmail.com. Submissions can be any length, and can be written in any style. Submissions will be subject to editing for spelling and grammar as well as verified for appropriate content. Please include your name for publication, as well as a word count, and title. Please submit filenames as LastName_MonthYear. Photos and images are encouraged, but are required to have a minimum resolution of 300dpi.

Articles may be held for publication at a later date.

Zafer Izer is studying in France with the Trent Study Abroad Program, and has been writing about his experiences in Absynthe each month.

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How It Feels To Be An Introvert Sharniya Vigneswaralingam

S

potting an introvert is tough. I would consider myself an introvert but people argue with me, saying that I’m an extrovert. It is common for that confusion to arise as introverts can pass off the extrovert personality. But what people do not understand is how being an introvert, like me, affects everything in your life—it simply takes over your life--and it sucks. It sucks because sometimes you wish you could simply be an extrovert just so you could really tell people how you actually feel. Sometimes you just want to scream and shout about how being an introvert is nothing but a horrible personality trait to carry.

The question that flutters through my mind is if it is just me or is it an introvert thing not to have friends? No matter how much I try, how much I try to be nice, or how much I try to please them, they end up falling short for me. Always having to listen to their rambling, which do not get me wrong, is what it means to be a friend, but when you need to vent there is never anyone around.

However, being an introvert I do not like having

“Believe it or not, I do go to parties and enjoy drinking as much the next person. However, going to parties my goal isn’t to make new friends—but hey, if I do that is a plus.” many friends anyways. I think it is something you get when you’re an introvert where you would rather be alone than with people. People need to realize that I am not asking for you to feel bad for me because it is honestly a personal preference— I prefer to be alone, doing my own thing.

But sometimes you realize that you should probably have some friends or at least that one.

Making friends is a ongoing cycle. It starts off where I am able to wiggle my way through and 10 absynthe magazine

make friends with one person and try to become best friends with the person who seemed to really need the same ‘best friend’ relationship. It seems to be great for the first few weeks and then shortly after everything begins to crumble. It is an ongoing cycle of making friends, losing friends, making friends again, and losing them again. Maybe it’s the fact that as we grow older we tend to rely on ourselves more and we begin to question friendships and if they are really needed in our lives.

I am not some weird person who is cooped up in their room all day with no human contact.

I go to my classes and talk to people but I tend to just sit around in different places doing things that intrigue me. Believe it or not, I do go to parties and enjoy drinking as much the next person.

However, going to parties my goal isn’t to make new friends—but hey, if I do that is a plus. But rather I go to get to know my existing friends more and to really just have a good time.

I don’t know if any other introverts can relate to me with this but have you ever felt older than you are. In my teenage years, I hung out with an older crowd, who were legal drinking age. This led me to party and consume alcohol at a younger age than usual—I think it began when I went to Cuba with a bunch of them. Even when I think about it now, the friends I have now are much older than me but we don’t notice the age difference. I find that it is harder for me to connect with people my age as well and when I tell people that I’m just eighteen they lose their minds. People say things such as “no way you seem older” or “I would have never guessed you were so young.”

This concept can be referred to as an “old soul.”

I tend to observe and take in a lot of information, which causes me to think before I speak. But when I do speak people tend to see me as wise, which would explain why people would assume I was older.

Today I sit in another attempt to become more extroverted but it begins to yet again to fall apart. Every year I tell myself that I will be more outgoing and that I’ll be the most popular of all.

Rather I sit here alone and probably the least popular of them all. If I were a superhero I believe my special power would be to become invisible because I tend to do that everyday with no effort at all.■

Sometimes we just don’t have stuff to fill a page. And we aren’t above leaving them blank. But you know what’s cool?

You’re probably still reading this. And if you are reading this then you should submit to us, so it doesn’t come to this...

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Don’t Forget, You’re Asian!

Amanda Ferreira

T

o be constantly conscious of one’s ethnicity tended happened to be in the east end, because strikes me as a strange thing. Are there really my family had moved after my brother was born, people in the world who walk around always but it was a pretty white school too. I made my aware of the fact that they are this background, or first close Asian friend, but all the rest of my close that background? Perhaps it’s easier, in a city like friends were as white as they come.

Peterborough, for that to be true if you happen Please understand—I don’t mean any of to be Caucasian. I mean, no offence, but white that badly. It just so happened that I ended up at people are everywhere in this city: they’re on bus predominately white schools, and that my friends advertisements, in storefront window displays, on happened to be predominantly white. I was never flyers, on billboards. And maybe that has some- excluded from anything because I was mixed, thing to do with the fact that 90% of the city’s and, to be fair, I was hardly even aware of it at populace identifies as all. At the time, all I white (which may or seemed to be was a “I’m not sure when I really became aware of may not be an exaggirl with glasses that geration), but hey, as it, but it took me a long time to really get com- owned literally four fortable with the idea of being Asian. “ a mixed Chinese stushirts. My ethnicity dent studying here, I’d was the last thing love to see some more representation! on my mind.

Maybe I should try to put this into perspec- But everything changed when (the fire native. Having been born and raised in Toronto, I’d tion attacked!) I went to high school. Of course, gotten rather used to the idea that it was impos- the student body at East York Collegiate was still sible to go more than ten feet in just about any at least 65% white, but that left, nevertheless, a area of town without running into someone of decently large portion of the school as something colour. I did grow up in the Beaches, however, that wasn’t white. So there were finally more than which overall is a pretty white neighbourhood; as two Asians in my class, and I met people from a child, though, I never seemed to really notice my all over the Middle East. In fact, my entire circle class photos were filled with mostly white faces, of friends in high school consisted of persons of and the fact that there was literally ‘that one black colour: one was Asian, one was from India, and family’ in the school didn’t seem out of place to the other was from Sri Lanka. So, for the first time me (there was literally just the one set of siblings in my life, I was the white percentage of a friend in the entire school, no one else was black; to be group, not the non-white, and that was crazy. fair, though, there were probably just as many I’m not sure when I really became aware of Middle Eastern kids). The middle school I at- it, but it took me a long time to really get comfort-

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able with the idea of being Asian. Not because it sively when I put on a dress (which I seldom did). I felt weird, mind you, but because it was some- AM A GIRL, the swishy material seemed to shout. thing I hadn’t really considered identifying myself And that was kind of like what it felt like to rememas before. When I looked at myself in photographs, ber, oh, hey, yeah, I’m Asian.

I had never really noticed that my eyes sloped a So when did this happen, you might ask. little, or that my skin was a little bit darker than When was I made aware of the fact that I was my Caucasian friends. It’s not that it didn’t matter, Asian? Well, the obvious answer would be when I just didn’t notice. In many ways, I guess it just I was in my ‘natural environment’, re: a sushi reshadn’t been brought to my attention. taurant or an Asian supermarket (and yes, I know,

And then off I went to university. Peter- sushi is Japanese, but the idea’s the same). I borough is a quaint little town, and I love it, I do. mean, those places weren’t exclusive to Asians, The people are friendly and polite, the bus drivers but they were the closest things I had to ‘Asian are super nice, and school itself is a like a hidden spaces,’ in the way that a woman might feel walkgem, tucked away on a campus surrounded by ing into a women’s bathroom after accidentally forest trails, trees, a river, and sheep farms. having gone into the men’s. So there I was, rubBut I swear, for my first two years here, nearly ev- bing my wooden chopsticks together so I didn’t eryone I ran into seemed to be white. get a splinter, buying pocky, explaining to one of

I was aware of it in lectures, when I would my friends what a dumpling was, and the feeling look around and see not a single other Asian face would come crashing down on my head. YOU, in the entire room; I was aware of it when I took the universe screamed, ARE AN ASIAN PERSON. the bus to and from downtown. I was aware of DON’T YOU FORGET IT. it when I ate lunch in any of the cafeterias, when This was not, may I assure you, a bad I went to the on-camthing. In fact, I oftenpus bookstore, when “But maybe you have something in your teeth, times loved being I was shopping at the reminded that I was you say. Or maybe they thought you were grocery store, when Asian. It was kind of pretty?”

I was window-shoplike being told you ping at the mall. And had won something, I am so blessed to have made the close friends just because it was in your genes. But not always. that I made, but all of them are white. All 11 of Peterborough, for all its international stuthem. dents, just seems to forget sometimes that Asian

Representation, for the first time in my life, people are a thing. Not all my friends believe me on really mattered to me. Why wasn’t there an Asian this, but I swear it’s true, and maybe they’d more character on whatever show it was that I was easily understand where I was coming from if they watching? Or in that movie that I just saw? Or in ever had to put up with ‘the look’ themselves. But that book that I just read? And usually, it didn’t no one looks at a white person and thinks, oh my matter; I wasn’t upset by the absence of Asians, god, a white person. But sometimes, people look I was just aware of it. To counteract that feeling, at me and think, oh my god, an Asian person. however, I became hyper-aware of the presence It happened maybe once a month in first of other Asians, and I also became hyper-aware and second year, but since the start of third year, I of moments when I felt, truly, utterly, and excruci- think it’s happened to me only once or twice. ‘The atingly Asian. look’, as I describe it, is basically just when some But what does that mean, to feel Asian? one looks at me and their expression screams Well, for me, it was basically just an awareness. HOLY SHIT YOU’RE AN ASIAN PERSON. SomeIt was like someone had thrown a sign over my times people would double-take, sometimes peohead that pointed me out in a crowd, something ple would stare, sometimes people would walk that singled me out and drew circles around my backward away from me just to continue staring footsteps and carved letters into my forehead. at my face.

To feel Asian was to feel the equivalent of feeling But maybe you have something in your feminine, which I felt (at the time) almost exclu- teeth, you say. Or maybe they thought you were

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pretty?

That’s a cute thought, it really is, but you’re just going to need to trust me on this one. When someone gives me ‘the look,’ I know. I know it has nothing to do with the way I styled my hair that day, or the shirt I was wearing, or anything like that at all. I knew, as that person looked at me in fascination, that they didn’t see me—not really, anyway. All they saw was an Asian person.

I think the two most pronounced examples I could describe was when my family came to visit me in Peterborough (my family, in this case, being my sister, also mixed, my mother, Chinese, and my aunt, also Chinese) and when I went to visit some of my friends in Almonte last summer.

In the first case, I kid you not, we were stared at all day. People would gawk, people would stare, and some people were honestly just outright rude about it. And in Almonte, I went to a little diner with my friends and this group of women walked past the window we were sitting next to. One lady made eye-contact with me through the glass, and then, even as she passed me, she watched me, literally turning her head back towards the restaurant in order to keep her eyes fixed on the side of my face.

These instances aside, overall, I’m actually pretty okay with getting ‘the look.’ As long as people aren’t rude about it, it isn’t really a big deal.

And by now, it seems to be happening less and less, perhaps because I look out for it less and less often. I’m aware that I’m Asian, but it’s rarely an excruciating thing now. What, you’ve never seen a seaweed cracker before? Then maybe you should try one.

But the moral of the story is, it took me about nineteen years of my life to be both made aware of the fact that I was Asian and to become comfortable with such a thing. I own my identity now, and I love it, I love being Asian. But it still catches me off-guard sometimes, like when I watch season eight of House, and Park, the little Asian doctor, talks about her Po-Po (that being her grandmother) or gets teased by House for having ‘squinty’ eyes. I connect with that, I really do, and I cannot begin to describe to you how excited I was to listen to her talk about her family life, or her personal quirks, and to think, wow, that’s me! That’s my culture she’s talking about, and it’s true! My grandfather is just like that! My mentality about receiving gifts is just like that!

So would I like to see more Asian representation out in the world? Fuck yes. But, you know, I also think I’ve made a lot of progress in the last year or so, and embracing my ethnicity has made a world of a difference for me. So maybe I’m not white, like 98% of Hollywood or 90% of Peterborough, but hey, I’m Asian, and that’s awesome.■

Fear Cassie McCoy

the logician’s afraid of giants the poet’s afraid of possibility they’re all afraid of something and to one another none of these fears seem right the chemist fears those towering the cartographer fears the night 14 absynthe magazine

Horoscopes Aries(March 21st -April 19th) Virgo (August 23rd -Septem- Sagittarius (November If you’ve been too afraid to ap- ber 22nd) Good night, sleep 22nd - December 21st) Deproach someone you’ve had a crush on, you should take advantage of the year coming to a close. The summer will be here soon and if they reject you, at least you won’t have to see them for four months.

tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.

You should take this warning literally. The stars are hinting that your house may be infected.

Libra (September 23rd -October 22nd) In the com-

spite what your friends have told you, it’s not normal to want to be stuffed when you die. And despite what your ex-girlfriend has told you, her keeping your stuffed corpse in her living room is still weird.

ing months you will realize that

Taurus (April 20th -May 20th) you are not the Hufflepuff you Capricorn (December 22nd You haven’t had the faith in your- thought you were. Unfortunate- - January 19th) You have dedself to do the things you’re most passionate about. Take the risk, embrace your passions, you will not regret it.

ly, you’re going to realize your true identity as a Slytherin. I’m sorry. (PS. Gzowski, Champlain is the real Gryffindor. You’re Slytherin.)

icated your life to donuts. Now it’s time to dedicate your life to lowering your cholesterol. Consider it, or you won’t be able to dedicate your life to anything.

Gemini (May 21st -June 20th) Three stubbed toes, two Cancer (June 21st - July Aquarius (January 20th sore throats, and a cavity later, 22nd) In six months you will February 18th) Xena, Warrior and you will realize that you realize that your command of were on the receiving end of a foreign languages is not enough Wiccan curse. for you to talk yourself out of a heated chess match in German.

Leo (July 23rd - August 22nd) Condoms are not option- Scorpio (October 21st -Noal. Condoms are NOT optional. vember 21st) Your friends CONDOMS are not optional.

Condoms are NOT OPTIONAL. Great, I think you get it now.

But in case you didn’t listen before...I’d suggest a doctor’s visit.

stopped finding it interesting to watch you puke and pass out about three months ago. Get it together, champ.

Princess is not a reasonable aesthetic in 2015. I know you think you look cool and vintage, but a metal bra isn’t doing you any favours. Plus, can you even breathe in that thing?

Pisces (February 19th -March 20th) Keep searching for meaning in your life. Don’t expect to find it.

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The Problem with Perfect Katrina Gormley

I

live in a generation where girls will never truly fidence. We put on a smile and try to stand as love themselves. Where they look in the mirror tall as we will let ourselves, but eventually, we all every day, and rather than smiling at what they break. We cannot put on fake smiles while we tell others they are beautiful and not to judge themsee, they are disappointed.

My generation can say they love them- selves, because we too are doing that very thing selves. My generation can be conceited and ar- – judging ourselves.

Why has society made us into these judgrogant, and even come off as a bit cocky – but even those girls still have a longing for something mental beings that pick and pick at people’s imelse; for some deep desire for a look or purpose perfections until there are no more imperfections in life that will give them some sort of meaning. to pick at? People run and they hide, and they Because to them, looks are everything, and they cry, and then they change. They change themselves from the outside, and then eventually once are not.

Girls feel low and useless if they do not they’ve had enough, they change themselves on look a certain way.

They feel judged and “Girls. We want everything that we cannot have. We want to be less important to the taller, and skinnier, and have lighter eyes, longer hair, smaller feet, people around them. bigger bums, smaller waists, bigger hips, longer nails – we want Yes some people are impossible.” judgmental and shallow and only care about looks, but that is some the inside. They cannot deal with all the judgepeople. What about the rest of us? What about ment so they change themselves entirely, thinking the ones who love the girl with the shy laugh, or that if they have the looks and the charm, they will the girl with the witty remarks and smart attitude. be loved, but in the process, they change their We love you for your inside; for your personality, hearts, and that is truly sad.

The ones who cannot change themselves your charm, your heart and your soul.

We say we don’t care about looks and that give up and since they cannot deal with themlooks do not matter, but we are lying. We are lying selves or others, they leave us entirely so that because as we say this, we are judging ourselves. they will not have to be a burden with their imperWe fear rejection. We fear bravery. We fear con- fections any longer.

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We are all just skeletons with a bit of flesh and hair. We are all just souls with a brain that thinks and a heart that beats. Why do people think that the way they view someone should matter.

The eyes are not meant to see cruelty the way we humans often do. The brain is not supposed to think malicious thoughts, and the fingers are not supposed to point to the corner where those who suffer crouch in fear. We are not supposed to be this way.

Girls. We want everything that we cannot have. We want to be taller, and skinnier, and have lighter eyes, longer hair, smaller feet, bigger bums, smaller waists, bigger hips, longer nails – we want impossible. We need reality. We are not Barbie dolls that society has structured. We are humans, and we are meant to be different. If we were all the same, we’d be clones. And then how would you tell us apart? How do we tell people a part? Is it based on their looks, or how they treat others? And even if girls did have everything they wanted, they would still find things they did not like about themselves and long for more. We are always longing for a need that will never come.

Girls are sitting there right now hating their bodies and wishing they had someone else’s. And while they sit there wishing for that, you sit there and wish you had theirs. And believe it or not, while you are sitting there wishing for someone

else’s body, someone is sitting there wishing they had yours. Now how messed up is that?

Our bodies don’t need to change. The way we look at them does.

We want to change our appearance and somehow achieve what we believe to be perfect, and do all of this for what? Love? Happiness? You cannot change yourself and expect these magnificent things from life. You cannot go out searching for happiness. Happiness is not a destination that you reach at the end of your long tough journey.

Happiness is a lifestyle. And you cannot “want” happiness. You just become it.

So rather than beating yourself up and picking out your flaws like flowers from the ground, change yourself; but not on the outside; from the inside. Change your thoughts, change your mind.

Change how you think and how you act. Don’t stress about the bad, and don’t worry about other people’s opinions. Worry about you. Care for others, and care for yourself. Learn to love and to use your hands to mend, not destroy. We were created to serve a purpose on this earth, and that is to live; to love, be loved, and to be strong. So be strong. ■

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How To Make 30 Cheap, Healthy, and Delicious Burritos! (that you can freeze) Jack Smye

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f you’re reading this, you’re probably a student.

If you’re a student, you’re probably broke like me. If you’re broke like me, you probably don’t eat very well. It’s a vicious reality. You probably also suffer from food laziness; you hate to cook or simply don’t have the time (especially during those god-forsaken essay months). You probably also hate doing dishes. (Who doesn’t, amirite?)

Anyhow, have no fear. With the following instructions, you’ll find yourself able to make 30 burritos in one go. That’s right, 30 (somewhat) healthy burritos that you can freeze and zap anytime you have a hankering. The best part? You can cook them on a paper towel! (or right on the microwave plate if you don’t care about those type of things). The other best part? They’re actually delicious and filling! The other, other best part? Cheap, you can make 30 of these babies for like 40$ or something. That’s like lunch for a month. A dollar a day. Bam. Anyhow, here we go.

First step is to get your lazy ass to the grocery store. You’re looking for 5 things: Tortilla shells (3 packs of 10), 3-4lbs of ground beef (or whatever replacement you can think of if you’re a vegetarian - tofu? I don’t know). One box of minute rice (get the brown stuff, come on, it’s good for you. On that note, get the whole wheat tortilla shells too), around 2000ml of salsa (hot of course),

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and finally, a large brick of your preferred cheese (the only option here is old).

Since you are buying in bulk, it’s best to try and time this during the sales. Also, get the knockoff tortilla shells. They’re like 2$ for 10 and they’re just as good. Same goes with the salsa. Looking at 7$ for the cheese, 4$ for the rice, 12$ for the salsa, 14$ for the beef, and 8$ for the wraps. If you catch the sales (on beef in particular), you’ll be spending under $40. I go to Freshco, but this is all cheaper at no frills (too far from home for this guy).

Anyhow, you got your shit. How are you going to turn it into 30 delicious burritos you may ask? Well, let me tell ya.

First point of order is the rice – You’re going to need 4 cups while it’s dry, and you’re going to need to get that shit cooking because it’s going to take like 20 minutes. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the other, other, other best part! You can get these done in like an hour (if you’re good like me – but I’ve also done this like 6 times now).

Also make sure you’re doing this in the biggest pot you have. Anyways, rice is cooking. At the same time, you’re gonna want to get that beef on the pan. Unless you have a giant pan, this is probably going to take a couple rounds. It’s totally worth it though, trust me, I’m a doctor. By the

way, I maybe should have mentioned that there’s a certain level of multi-tasking required for this.

I have faith in you though. The next step, while cooking the rice and the beef, is to get that entire block of cheese grated. This really is the best part because you can eat the cheese as you go. It’s win-win (but don’t eat too much, otherwise your burritos will suffer).

So, by now, you should have a block of grated cheese, 3-4lbs of cooked beef, and like 8 cups of cooked rice. What now? Well, isn’t it obvious? Mix that all up! You might need a bigger pot, when I’m doing a batch, I remove my sock drawer and mix it all up in there – but to each their own. I never really realized how gross that is until I just typed that. Ew. Back on topic, don’t forget to add the salsa! All of it, everything you bought at the store (minus the shells) are going into this delicious concoction. At this point, you’re pretty well there and should have a pot of deliciousness.

Feel free to add any spices or sauces, this is your baby now.

When it’s all done, get ready to wrap. It’s a little time-consuming, but I just throw the TV on and have-at-er. You’ll get into a rhythm and start flying through it. Trust me. The tricky part here is proportioning, I might have a knack for this because mine always come out pretty well even (ob-

viously some will be fuller than others), but a safe bet is to use your average ladle as a portion. If you have leftovers at the end, eat up. If you have too many shells, throw something else in them. You’ll figure it out, I have faith.

At this stage, you should have in your possession 30 plump and delicious burritos. You did it, and I’ve never been more proud of you. But what do you do with these, you say? Sandwich baggies! You can get a hundred for like a buck.

Wrap each one up individually, throw them in a grocery bag and put them in the freezer. BAM. You did it. You now have 30 meals at the ready.

For cooking, throw one in the microwave for 3 minutes and enjoy! No hassle, no mess, and you can throw one of these little suckers in your pack and take them wherever. No more crappy cafeteria food, no more store-bought crappy hot-pocket things that are loaded with preservatives, chemicals and god only know what else. You have a nice, healthy burrito and you know exactly what’s in it. Worth it? You bet your ass it is.

Tune in next issue and I’ll show you how to do this same process with breakfast burritos (sooooo good). ■

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