Friday, September 30, 2011


Identity is a topic I've been thinking on quite a bit as of late. What determines who we are, or where we belong? My mom and I share a love of genealogy and in the past few years have found alot of different ethnic groups represented in our ancestors. Recently I've been finding more on my dad's side, too. See, I have found everything but African and Asian (Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, etc...). Seriously, I think you could name any European group and we've found someone in the rolls- including Spanish, Italian, Scandinavian, Belgian, Russian, and Prussian (and many more). As well as Romany Gypsy and Native American (Cherokee, Blackfoot, Mashpee Wampanoag, Aquinnah Wampanoag, Narragansett). I'm an anthropologist. I delight in rich cultures and rich heritage. I've always wanted to be a part of something, have a heritage I could be proud of. And I am. I'm proud of every part of my heritage. I love being all those things. Being able to look in the mirror and see it in my face. It's good to not be just one thing. Right?
I kind of feel lost sometimes, unsure of who I am. Being American is so obscure. We are indeed a melting pot. We have a culture- McDonald's. We are a young country and don't have a full-on rich culture. Hispanics have their heritage, African Americans have their heritage, Irish Americans have their heritage, and we're all united by our common American-ness. Being such a mix I feel connected to all of the cultures of the various peoples my ancestors came from, but like I don't truly belong in any of them. The Blackfoot would call me a "wannabe", the Roma would call me an outsider, to the French I'm not truly French, I'm not just Irish, or just Welsh. I know that who I am as a person is not dependent on my genetic heritage, but is it so wrong to want to belong somewhere. I wear moccasins and celtic necklaces and eat German food and drink wine like a true French jaune fille, but does that come across in a way that I don't want it to? You say: My Culture Is Not A Trend. But can I wear feathers in my hair and Irish sweaters and "Gypsy" skirts and Nordic prints anyway? What if it's my culture too? Just because my ancestor lived a hundred years before yours, does that make them any less real? Any less Scottish? Any less Cherokee? Any less Italian or Jewish? I mean, it makes my DNA less Scottish and Cherokee and whatever, but should that mean that I have less right than you to celebrate that part of myself? I love my heritage. I just don't want to be an outcast because those who came before me decided to marry very diverse people. I just want to have a niche. Somewhere people will be like me, but different. Learn about "our people", our language, our customs. But I can't change people's minds. Not really. When you look at me, I don't really look one way, if I tell you things I am, you'll say that you can see that, but one couldn't really say otherwise. Eh, maybe I'm just whiny and confused, but I wish I could belong to something- be it a clan, a tribe, a band, a group. I just don't know people like me. Anyway.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Yesterday, Meet Today. Shake Hands.

Oh, yesterday. Dear, sweet, yesterday...
Yesterday was International Talk Like a Pirate Day (as I'm sure everyone knows) and I, of course, had to celebrate. I'm very much a pirate. My ancestor on my mom's mom's side is the infamous Captain Kidd. And my name is Bellamy, as in Black Sam Bellamy. And my last name is Foley, which is Irish for "pirate or plunderer". Anyway, I decided that- as I had a full day of classes- it would probably be awfully disruptive of me to talk like a pirate. Teacher: "Bellamy, what did you think of last night's assigned reading?" Me: "Arrgh! It seemed that th' comedic style was jus' a mask fer thee underlying social and political issues o' the time, cap'n, arrgh." We are currently reading the Lysistrata. (Which reminds me *homework*). Messed up play from ancient Greece. Basically, women withold sex from the menfolk in order to stop the Peloponnesian War. Vulgar, Sexist, and Hi-larious. So instead I wore a pirate hat to school. Ahoy, Mateys! How the hell do you spell the plural form of "matey"?
...Back to yesterday...
After class I met up with the ever-charming Shananigan and we went to Goodwill. Now, I simply must relay the fascinating story of my wardrobe malfunction and reveal the secret to why I shall possibly never be wearing a certain skirt EVER AGAIN: It was a chilly September morning when I awoke to the sound of my mother's soothing voice shrilly barking commands from downstairs. "Oy, girl, git yer kaboose outta bed, ye mangy scum. Aaah." Choking back tears at her vicious reprimand, I realized with a start that I had slept through my alarm. By an hour! So I dashed outta bed (like mangy scum) and hopped in the shower for a ten-minute cleaning. I hurriedly dressed (as it was quite cold) and hastily jotted down a current event from this here computer. I was wearing a lovely short lace skirt-with-built-in-slip, black tights, a black tank, my favorite brown riding boots, a chunky oatmeal sweater, and my lovely and over-sized brown pirate hat. I looked dashing if I dare say so myself. And of course I dare, as I am QUITE daring. While walking from the SUB to my Anthropology class a kind man informed me gently that I was having "some issues". You know when backpacks cause your skirt to slide up your bum?

I do.
So there I was, confidently strutting around campus in my pirate gear with my pretty lavender underwear framed beneath my tribal-print backpack for all to see. The situation was easily remedied and I simply held my skirt down when walking for the remainder of the day. Which only added to the ridiculousness of my appearance and my quiet yet poignant amusment at the situation. After class I met up with Shananigan, drove to Goodwill and found some bright (and lordy do I mean BRIGHT!) orange shorts overalls on sale for $1.05. Gladly I made the purchase and changed into them in a cafe restroom. The same cafe that I later performed in for open mic night, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
That, dear readers, is the story of why the heck Bellamy was wearing safety-orange overalls and a pirate hat.
My senior quote in the yearbook is going to be: "Take off the pirate hat. It's way too much with the orange overalls." Because there is definitely an air of mystery to it, yes? Well, there would be if you didn't already know the whole story. Yes?
I also had a knit yellow beret in my bag and put it on with my overalls and brown boots and asked Shananigan if I looked like a giant candy corn. She said yes.
There were alot of interesting characters at Calypso's for open mic night, one of my favorites was the nice drunk lady outside on the sidewalk who kept saying "you play that, yep. Be louder. Doin' good, girlfriend!" before being forcibly removed by her more sober-seeming family. Oh, drunk lady. No, you go girlfriend. Some other favorites were the coffee guy Shananigan bought a bottled water from and subsequently decided to marry, and the quirky fellow who played the banjo and screamed along rather odd lyrics. I decided that I would marry him. Along with the dude with the mohawk in my literature class, 'cause he's so cool.
I was the last act of the evening, and sadly my 15 minutes were more like 5 minutes as everyone else had been allowed to go overtime. Sad Bellamy. But I signed up for next week, earlier into the night, so I'll have plenty of time. Yesterday I sang "Lost in My Mind" by The Head and The Heart and "Jolene" by Ray LaMontagne (not the same as "Jolene" by Dolly Parton, though I love that song too). I also wanted to sing one of my originals but, alas!, I shall next week. Hopefully screaming banjo man will be there again. It's cool that my little group finally has an actual hangout, we've always said we should have one.
Today, was basically boring and the highlight will no doubt come at 9:01 p.m. when the show New Girl has it's first ever episode on Fox. I've been waiting with bated breathe all summer. I'm not exactly a TV addict, but I adore Zooey DeChanel (and her sister Emily, who plays Temperance Brennen on the hit show Bones) and especially want to see this show because the character is the only girl roommate in an apartment full of guys. And that's my dream. Ever since the movie The Roommate I'm kind of turned off to having a girl roommate. I don't know why... Besides, boys do tend to be cooler and more fun, in my experience. There are lots of wicked awesome girls in the world (me, my friends) but girls are often judgemental and snobby, whereas boys usually aren't. Fact of Life, readers.
Wow, writing felt good. Yay!

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Friend, my friend, and myself

This Monday started out like any other Monday in the life of Bellamy. I left for school at 8. Got there, was told by a security guard that a water line was having issues and the only parking was in the two open lots, and drove around looking for a spot that I- with my sadly sub-par parking skills- could worm my way into. maybe not any other day...
I ended up parking 30 minutes walk across town in a neighorhood behind the public library. It indeed did sucketh, dear readers. And I am sore (*pouty face*). I also had to suffer through a disgustingly hefty load of books on the 30 minute walk to the college and my Literature of Western Civilization class (which I had apparently had an internet assignment for in the previous week that I had not done. You know, this class wan't even supposed to be internet-based at all. It is not what I was expecting, but I really love the in-class discussions so I kind of just grin. and. bear it.). Then I got out of my Computer class early for my lunch break and decided that, since I had alomst 2 hours to kill, I should walk back to my car and dump all the stuff that I didn't need. In all, it was an hour walk to my car and back to school. I enjoyed 2 more thrilling classes (Physical Anthropology and Intro to Literature) before meeting up with Shananigan (who is now attending NIC, too!) and once again trekking to my oh-so-far-away car. We drove it back to the school- thankfully the daytime classes were over and there were open parking spaces close to the school. We walked around downtown 'til about 6 then headed over to Calypso's for open mic night. Sadicus joined us later, and we laughed and enjoyed Shananigan's recent spiritual awakening and listened to second-rate singers and danced with wild abandon... on our asses... without leaving our seats. That still counts as dancing with wild abandon, right? Then walked back to our cars through the creepy nightime park and and parted ways once we reached the lot. Yes, I love my friends. Thursday I'm possibly attending the first French Club meeting of the year at the high school. But only if I have enough gas for the rest of the week. I'm spending Thursday night with Shan-Shan at my sister's apartment (to babysit her weiner dog) and we shall sing and write songs along with my lovely guitar. Friday we're going to go to the high school to meet this year's foreign kids, because we LOVE foreign exchange kids. I mean, foreigners tend to be so much cooler than the chaps of Northern Idaho, and I hear there is an Australian guy this year. Here's hopin' that he's cute.
Saturday my dad is hopefully taking me to see the wolf people, and Shananigan may come then too. We're making up for her antisocial summer working for the slave drivers known as Silverwood Theme Park. Sunday is a day for any residual homework from the previous school week, and Monday I plan to play Calypso's open mic night. I'm pretty excited!
Honestly, It's only Tuesday and this is looking to be the best week I've had in a REALLY long while.
Check out this youtube video on "unschooling". I love it. I think I'll "unschool" my future children.

My laptop has been experiencing major technical difficulties since we moved and this is my grandparents computer, so i can't post pictures from it. Hopefully I'll figure a way around that soon. But until then, bear with me and my text-only posts. I'll try to link to other sites and videos as often as possible to keep things interesting.