tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71527715635147964932024-03-18T22:35:31.970-05:00Classy In KCTravel, Love, LifeHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.comBlogger167125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-49873243050446920432017-12-26T16:30:00.000-06:002017-12-26T16:30:41.760-06:00Getting Lost in Mexico<div class="MsoNormal">
If you ever want to truly test your new marriage and find
out how much you really trust your partner go to a foreign country and get lost
outside of the major city. It will immediately prove how you work together
under stress. Fortunately, when this actually happened to us everyone remained
surprisingly level headed and we made it home without being robbed!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPw5jzOgj8ciWYbXBn61yA7e6aX9Kf5EC4Id8z8veA7hwk7kmOQmhQuflb675ARCCEv3HLwKzhi6QzFuDnYN-6D8bXbEtpb_E5GJ_jFqw0tMGLAzQ_pNirPq9Uk6usKOC5mxlwEx7Fdc/s1600/16143710_1274118716014967_3236407877597110490_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1296" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPw5jzOgj8ciWYbXBn61yA7e6aX9Kf5EC4Id8z8veA7hwk7kmOQmhQuflb675ARCCEv3HLwKzhi6QzFuDnYN-6D8bXbEtpb_E5GJ_jFqw0tMGLAzQ_pNirPq9Uk6usKOC5mxlwEx7Fdc/s320/16143710_1274118716014967_3236407877597110490_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying ourselves at Xel Ha.</td></tr>
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What the heck were we doing wandering around the outside of
Cancun, Mexico you might ask? Well through a series of unfortunate events that start with Aubrey leaving her phone on a bus and involve 2 taxi rides, 2 bus rides, and visits to 3 different offices in Cancun we ended up at a bus terminal near the Cancun airport, waaaaayyyy out of town. The taxi driver who brought us there wasn’t super friendly and didn’t want to
stick around while we figured out how to get the phone back, so we thought we would just go catch a taxi from the Marriot next
door. That was a HUUUUGE mistake.</div>
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Turns out the Marriot doesn’t want anything to do with
anyone that is staying there and won’t even let you through the gate to use the
phone. Dumbfounded we began to walk in the direction of Cancun which was a good
10 or 15 miles away. </div>
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Imagine walking along the interstate where there are no
businesses, no nothing and it is getting dark. Are you getting nervous? Do you
feel scared? Now imagine doing that in Mexico! We walked for probably a mile or
more before we found a gas station. I talked to the attendants and explained as
best I could in Spanish our situation. They directed us to cross the highway
and get a bus going to “Centro”. I could just tell by their expressions that
this lady thought we were probably going to die tonight. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYJV4sU5as9IdgZPgTYzYgTHe27BwcYuqqzCXGnmJxMEODbIuEETWzeBfSGA2utnli-34CmIXQtCOjoPufRVMrS4VC_mBnFnvUTFQWA0z4LvJvx_Fd6Zghkdb_dwvRMPeOo9K20ht8h8/s1600/16113378_10211613674361253_2931722923427915101_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYJV4sU5as9IdgZPgTYzYgTHe27BwcYuqqzCXGnmJxMEODbIuEETWzeBfSGA2utnli-34CmIXQtCOjoPufRVMrS4VC_mBnFnvUTFQWA0z4LvJvx_Fd6Zghkdb_dwvRMPeOo9K20ht8h8/s320/16113378_10211613674361253_2931722923427915101_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aub having entirely too many tequila shots the day before.</td></tr>
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We crossed the highway and wandered to a bus stop that was
outside of a college. Everyone at the bus stop just stared. Totally confused as
to where these American had come from when there was nothing for miles. No
buses came for a long, long time so we (Alex actually) decided it was best to
just take the next bus going in the direction of Cancun. “We’ll be fine as long
as it keeps going straight,” he says. Then what does the bus do? It exits off
into a neighborhood. Now we are faced with staying on the bus and seeing where
it takes us (possibly somewhere further away, or less populated) or get off and
hope that a Domino’s is a good omen that this is a safe place. <br />
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We saw a taxi, but it was apparently broken and wasn’t any
use in getting us home. As we stood on the street corner, being stared at by
every single person in the whole area we were feeling really desperate. I know
that I personally was about to crack. It was full dark now and we were lost and
everyone around us knew it. </div>
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Just then a taxi, with passengers in tow, sped by. Aubrey
started to chase after it hoping that she could somehow follow a moving vehicle
and get in once the passengers had been dropped off. Clearly, that didn’t work
out but another taxi came by without any passengers and we flagged him down
like our lives depended on it. Probably before he even came to a full stop we
were inside and begging him to take us home. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_gOizFAg18M2kpkiztoimQpl25i9-vqa8sHkpXHQmAgpmoNa8bS72BW59MN4g7Zc6HSHTJZg1cshJA9DyNVPV26gZtpdaOJYJj-IdjbjDImt9Sdk_6GgzyNYOItYVUW1IlfrM0mxsMc/s1600/16112885_1274118482681657_3065837673779440424_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="901" data-original-width="1233" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_gOizFAg18M2kpkiztoimQpl25i9-vqa8sHkpXHQmAgpmoNa8bS72BW59MN4g7Zc6HSHTJZg1cshJA9DyNVPV26gZtpdaOJYJj-IdjbjDImt9Sdk_6GgzyNYOItYVUW1IlfrM0mxsMc/s320/16112885_1274118482681657_3065837673779440424_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This may or may not have lead to the phone getting lost later...</td></tr>
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Our driver just so happened to turn out to be the coolest
taxi driver ever and had a screen showing music videos of 90s hit songs to
entertain us on the ride back to the ferry dock. </div>
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Thankful to have made it home without losing our money or
getting kidnapped we all relaxed into our seats on the ferry. Another guy
riding the ferry was staring at us with a big grin on his face and I couldn’t
figure out why. Until Aubrey realized he was at the college campus and had
ridden the bus with us also. I’m sure this dude was trying to figure out how on
earth we made it back here and what the heck we were doing but we didn’t stop
to talk so he’ll always just have to wonder. </div>
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While I wouldn’t recommend ever getting yourself lost
outside of the city in a foreign country it makes an interesting story. <br />
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XOXO<br />
Hayley</div>
HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-88055747790379319252017-12-26T16:07:00.003-06:002017-12-26T16:15:14.541-06:00A Feminist Marriage: Modern Values Meeting TraditionalMost people that know me know that I identify as a raging feminist. My feelings about gender equality are some of the most defining parts of my personality. Right up there with my love for cats and my siblings. But sometimes being a feminist can be exhausting. This <a href="https://entertainment.theonion.com/woman-takes-short-half-hour-break-from-being-feminist-t-1819576049" target="_blank">Onion article</a> is probably the most accurate description I have ever seen of how it feels. When it came to marriage my feelings were definitely complicated. At least about the institution, not the the person I wanted to spend my life with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY99IGKKPY4dWvG8NS2ILOJ6skUUP0XVADk3C1Q8qiF7PeQZwuVYnII_a-ywOQie396tR74571z9qRxJOuzxSHWjCkk4Le7QWg3oR18zeT_0HJZJCdp_W6dznNh8lkmlglgwAaS5e918/s1600/15895668_1257378641022308_2762921933406000796_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1024" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY99IGKKPY4dWvG8NS2ILOJ6skUUP0XVADk3C1Q8qiF7PeQZwuVYnII_a-ywOQie396tR74571z9qRxJOuzxSHWjCkk4Le7QWg3oR18zeT_0HJZJCdp_W6dznNh8lkmlglgwAaS5e918/s320/15895668_1257378641022308_2762921933406000796_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://chelseawagnerphotography.com/" target="_blank">Chelsea Wagner Photography</a></td></tr>
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Like many other women I love weddings and everything about them. I've watched all of the TLC shows. I take David Tuttera's advice on everything to heart. (He thinks green is a horrible color FYI.) And I want Kleinfeld's to stock something other than just that one see through Pnina Tornai dresses. For myself personally though, I felt like marriage might betray my values that I can't shut up about. There are so many pitfalls from vowing to be an obedient wife to wearing white to display my purity to the giving up my name. Not to mention that the origins of marriage is basically just a business transaction between my husband and father. </div>
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While I know a lot of those ideas aren't really what marriage is about today, it still felt like I was turning my back on things that I said were identifying qualities of myself. Ultimately, I fell in love with a wonderful human being and I did almost every one of these things that I felt a little icky about originally.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRt7sqEDs878ad3QQ13PTfZlg-z6eA2VgViGGlrLFYEFVM6mRsHIiWAAx4D8CLobuW22NEGVc_bVW2B4NBRXEbNwP9vH1oN8EIf6GLxkDrPDZO1Ry0NYqvT2IEY9HvEWOnZiouuj67pg/s1600/15844399_1257417547685084_7755008138066091709_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="731" data-original-width="1024" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRt7sqEDs878ad3QQ13PTfZlg-z6eA2VgViGGlrLFYEFVM6mRsHIiWAAx4D8CLobuW22NEGVc_bVW2B4NBRXEbNwP9vH1oN8EIf6GLxkDrPDZO1Ry0NYqvT2IEY9HvEWOnZiouuj67pg/s320/15844399_1257417547685084_7755008138066091709_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://chelseawagnerphotography.com/" target="_blank">Chelsea Wagner Photograph</a>y</td></tr>
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<br />I realized that I have control over what my wedding and marriage is all about and I can make it fit our values and ideas of a marriage. Also, there is something undeniably appealing about publicly committing yourself to a person that you love. You want the world to know that this is your lobster!<br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: center;">We chose to do our wedding our way. Sprinkles of tradition mixed in with lots of references to our cats and love of cats and how we were only getting married so our cat's parents would be together... (We're kinda weirdos.) We were married by one of our very close friends who made the ceremony extremely personal to us and I wrote the entire ceremony myself to ensure that all of the language described us as a team, not as a wife vowing to be loyal to her husbands wishes. We also skipped things that we didn't like or didn't think really fit us as a couple.</span><br />
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I also came to the decision to change my name to Grace relatively quickly because I was taking the name of people that I was proud to be related too and that I would be proud to have any potential future children named after too. It wasn't giving up who it was, it was growing to be apart even more family!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdE09xnHEn2c1yCI1AEF9-uKpO8BnSBkwlEGhnEG2Y8kdiDmYjVZw952EDGtGehhCJtGV1ablAN5Af6e6Yy2834Sjdh6XEdaSwg2sfB1Hus-ke-Zdzv_Kurj-sdeJAmGLpw6803p-xWsg/s1600/15800357_1257406211019551_1945648902283374449_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1076" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdE09xnHEn2c1yCI1AEF9-uKpO8BnSBkwlEGhnEG2Y8kdiDmYjVZw952EDGtGehhCJtGV1ablAN5Af6e6Yy2834Sjdh6XEdaSwg2sfB1Hus-ke-Zdzv_Kurj-sdeJAmGLpw6803p-xWsg/s320/15800357_1257406211019551_1945648902283374449_o.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://chelseawagnerphotography.com/" target="_blank">Chelsea Wagner Photography</a></td></tr>
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Each step of our wedding was discussed and ultimately decided between my husband and I not because that's what we had to do, but because it was things that we wanted to do for our own personal reasons.<br />
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Ultimately, I realized that the beauty of feminism is that we can make whatever choice suits us best. We are not confined into being right or wrong in how we live our lives and what makes us happy. We are just a little over a year into our marriage and I couldn't imagine life any other way.<br />
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To be honest not much has changed besides our legal status as a couple and our life insurance policies. Alex still leaves his socks everywhere and I still continually forget where I sat my phone/car keys/wedding ring. Marriage doesn't change us, but it does add something a little extra special to our lives.<br />
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Now I can describe myself as a loving cat mom, feminist, AND an amazing (at least I think I am) wife.<br />
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XOXO<br />
Hayley</div>
HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-28531057143322696282017-07-14T13:33:00.002-05:002017-12-27T08:29:34.277-06:00Doing Whole 30: Week OneI enjoy cooking. I really do. But boy have I ever done a lot of cooking since Alex and I decided to do the Whole 30 challenge. The basic run down is that you cut out foods that are known to be inflammatory for 30 whole days and then reintroduce them at the end of 30 days to see how they affect you (if at all) and to help you have more insight into how your body reacts to certain foods.<br />
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It also helps you quit nasty habits and retrain yourself to have a healthy relationship with food. For example no longer using food as a reward/stress relief/catch all for your emotions. If you are interested in learning more you can read about it more <a href="http://www.whole30.com/" target="_blank">here.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD2qFNMhArmJkRi1_ys3upKeyj-Qij3AHwlnNX8DjRhSpcjodZwYtKl0gXmd789iy3qbD7W0thg96Z58jFxcLvfYwi2ZbDGmZycgHOLfA2Yceyz0YFcHF6QMjDYiB96L2IevOtZGdDiM/s1600/images.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWD2qFNMhArmJkRi1_ys3upKeyj-Qij3AHwlnNX8DjRhSpcjodZwYtKl0gXmd789iy3qbD7W0thg96Z58jFxcLvfYwi2ZbDGmZycgHOLfA2Yceyz0YFcHF6QMjDYiB96L2IevOtZGdDiM/s1600/images.png" /></a></div>
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Alex and I decided to do this challenge for a variety of reasons. Well, if we're being honest I wanted to do it and Alex agreed because I'm the one that feeds him! We realized that despite us telling each other we wanted to eat "healthy" we didn't really have any kind of plan in mind and weren't really following through. We had also realized that we defaulted to pasta A LOT instead of exploring different foods and recipes. This really has forced me to get creative in what we eat! </div>
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Changes we've experience so far...</h3>
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The Whole 30 requires that you eat 3 meals a day. Not skip breakfast, eat a bag of M&M's and chips for lunch, and then sit down to dinner like we had been doing. Because of this we decided to wake up earlier and eat breakfast together every morning. It's been really great to get a jump start on our day by getting up an hour earlier than before. I also like getting the chance to talk and share a meal before we start our work days. </div>
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While our grocery bill has gone up we are no longer eating out or buying gas station snacks so in total this has been great on our wallets. The occasional (okay, almost everyday) gas station snack really adds up in a week.</div>
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We do sooooo many dishes!!<br />
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We've both been feeling pretty good the whole time. I had one rough day on day 7 that was not fun. But overall eating whole foods for every meal has been good to us.</div>
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<br />What we've been eating....</h3>
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Definitely the most difficult part of this challenge is being prepared with meals for every turn. It's easy to say no to fast food when you already have delicious meals waiting for you at home. Not so easy when the fridge is empty and you have no idea what to make!</div>
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I have been meal planning a week at a time and grocery shopping once a week. We also hit up the farmers market to get a lot of our produce. Because we are going through so many veggies it's crazy!</div>
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This is what we ate the first week!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3ojtWg3_ls16kH8tIy302alYxTfhaCuu3dovEQVTO8LYKG0iBFgS1129f01UuCwAic4lihyitdRTlccutvbUG9QI9GzwloOSC-1Z2rKzIZOcyIX2ndA4OI8zN15BmcSxsP76tugMkQI/s1600/Week+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="288" data-original-width="1210" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3ojtWg3_ls16kH8tIy302alYxTfhaCuu3dovEQVTO8LYKG0iBFgS1129f01UuCwAic4lihyitdRTlccutvbUG9QI9GzwloOSC-1Z2rKzIZOcyIX2ndA4OI8zN15BmcSxsP76tugMkQI/s640/Week+1.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Closing thoughts....</h3>
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While I don't usually buy into fad diet type things I think their is some merit to this program. We are not killing ourselves over what type of oil our burger was cooked in at the restaurant or if we accidentally ate one of Haven's craisin's that has added sugar. But anything that encourages us to eat more whole foods and home cooked meals can't be all that bad. We don't expect to be magically cured of every aliment ever (as some of the Facebook groups make it appear) but we are happy with forming better healthier habits that will hopefully carry on after the 30 days are over!</div>
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-31028348132981407012015-05-19T17:03:00.005-05:002015-05-19T17:03:59.235-05:00But what about the NICE guys?!<br />
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b8/21/d1/b821d139ee6a4599fa823cec5e091fdc.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b8/21/d1/b821d139ee6a4599fa823cec5e091fdc.jpg" width="271" /></a><br />
<a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/b8/21/d1/b821d139ee6a4599fa823cec5e091fdc.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>So often when I write anything or read anything relating to feminism or the particular struggles that women face simply for existing I am met with the response BUT WHAT ABOUT THE MEN. WHO'S THINKING OF THE MEN?!<br />
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As a disclaimer, I will mention right now that feminism does encompass a concern for men's issues like equal rights as a parent and the fact that sexual violence against men is often ignored or minimized. But this is not one of those times.<br />
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My<a href="http://classyinkc.blogspot.com/2015/05/single-and-not-wanting-to-mingle.html"> previous post</a> about how flat out frightening it is to go to clubs or bars for women seemed to spark a lot of conversation. In case you have not read it, basically if you chose to go out in public as a female not only do you have to accept being inappropriately touched, you get harassed and coerced for defending your body and rejecting these advances.<br />
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I'm sorry to tell you guys, but there is no equivalent for males. If someone can think of one I will gladly discuss it, but I can't think of any way that I could make a man feel as threatened or uncomfortable as they make me feel in a lot of situations. (Please also note, that I am speaking primarily in terms of heterosexual males. Homosexual, Transgender, etc. face a whole different set of challenges.)<br />
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As I said previously, many guys do have a certain way of making it about them still. It's not fair that they can't hit on us essentially. One commenter brought up that "nice" guys get brushed off for not being aggressive enough. He then said, "The caption says it all. Women judging like they do." Wow. That's all I can say really. You read a story about how myself and my friend were physically threatened and all you can think is that you're the victim because we don't want you to hit on us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.aplacetolovedogs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/flower-pup.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.aplacetolovedogs.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/flower-pup.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In case you needed a little break because I did!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Ladies and gentlemen, that right there is what is wrong with the world. That is the heart of the problem in a nutshell. The idea that women primarily exist for men to try to win. The idea that I am not an autonomous human being that can make my own choices for whatever reason I choose. I am 100% convinced that, that guy is exactly the kind of person that gets aggressive and confrontational when I say no.<br />
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So to that guy and every other "that guy" out there let me explain a very basic concept to you. Women are in fact human beings and we are born with inherent rights that we get just for being a person. Included in those basic rights is the right to choose who I want I talk to, who I let touch my body, and just how I want to live my life in general. I owe you NOTHING.<br />
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There will <b>never</b> be a situation<b> ever</b> when I am obligated to give you my number or talk to you. Yes, this means that sometimes girls will reject you and it will suck. But guess what, that happens to girls also! I have been rejected more times than I could possibly count. Sometimes it does hurt a little, but it is their right to not like me for whatever reason they choose and I respect that.<br />
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While all of this probably makes me sound like a man-hater I do actually meet guys that I have pleasant conversations with on occasion. What these guys do differently is respect my personal space and boundaries (ie: don't grab or touch me without my consent), respect the fact that sometimes I do not want to talk for whatever reason, and most of all respect when I say no.<br />
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In a real-life example, a guy approached my friend and I while we were talking. He apologized for interrupting us and didn't try to touch me or put his body on mine. Then he had a normal conversation that didn't involve anything about how sexy [insert body part] was. Well actually he commented on my teeth, but it was in a good way. After talking for a bit, he gave me his number so I wouldn't feel pressured to give him mine. He asked if he could give me a side hug. Then he left! He didn't linger to make sure I didn't talk to other guys or overstay his welcome. It's as simple as that. Really, don't pressure me, threaten me, or make me uncomfortable and you have succeeded in being a decent human being.<br />
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If you are still confused, <a href="http://youtube.gunblues.com/us/video/_ZfUUyVxNEA">this girl</a> offers a lovely explanation of how feminism is not an assault on the hetero male. Or feel free to voice your concerns to me. I am happy to discuss it with you, though be warned that I may end up writing a post about you!<br />
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Sincerely,<br />
An Exhausted WomanHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-52196905704799970982015-05-18T18:04:00.003-05:002015-05-18T18:05:56.905-05:00Single and NOT Wanting to Mingle<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://www.bohemia-apartments.com/files/sasazu-club-dancing-people.jpg" height="213" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guy in the white is definitely plotting something.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Being a female that makes the brave decision to sometimes leave my house and venture out in public I have come to (sadly) expect a certain level of creepiness to happen at bars or clubs or any area where males are allowed to be. While this is certainly not okay, we have to learn to deal with it as we learn to fight it.<br />
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So when one of my girlfriends and I decided to have a fun night of dancing in the Power & Light district we had already assumed that we would have to deal with some level of unwanted male attention. This generally includes but is not limited to have guys grab your hand and try to pull you away or sneaking up on you and thrusting their nether regions on you. Typically a quick elbow to the chest and turn can get you out of the situation so you can continue what you're doing. That was not the case this past Saturday evening.<br />
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Over the course of about 3 hours, we were repeated groped, touched, called bitches, flipped off and just generally harassed by every male in the metro area. I will highlight just a few of these instances though I would venture to guess we had been approached by at least 30 guys by the end of the evening.<br />
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<b>Harassment #1</b> Two guys asked us to dance Rachel said no thank you and the guy proceed to stand there just to make sure she didn't dance with anyone else. It took me asking the linebacker looking guy standing nearby to go pretend to be her brother to get her out of the situation.<br />
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<b>Harassment #2</b>: Rachel saw a guy trying to reach around and grab her butt while dancing near us. She smacked his hand away from her and we moved away. Later on the guy came back and shoved her in the back of the head. And if that wasn't enough he came back to grope her backside with two hands. At this point, she shoved him away from her hard (LIKE ANY PERSON DEFENDING THEMSELVES WOULD DO) and he proceed to flip her off and scream that she was a bitch.<br />
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<b>Harassment #3:</b> A large guy, easily pushing 250 and heavily intoxicated came and put his arms around both Rachel's and I's necks and then tried to tell us to loosen up and dance. We both squirmed away and told him no thank you, we're fine, we don't want to dance. Clearly, we misunderstood that refusing to let a stranger touch you wasn't an option. The guy came back SIX(!!!) times. He was a mixture of angry that we didn't like him and wanting to explain himself (I think, it's hard to understand slurred gibberish). Beyond the point that I in absolutely no way have to talk to him, I may have let him say his piece if he didn't need to also touch me while doing so.<br />
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Obviously, doing once again what any logical person would do, I shoved him off of me and told him to GET THE F*** AWAY. I also grabbed onto the scrawniest kid in the whole place and stood behind him at one point. A not surprisingly, as soon as he said leave her alone the guy backed off.<br />
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It's also important to note that everyone else, mostly other men, saw this all happening and did absolutely nothing. I understand that I'm a stranger and they probably didn't want to get in a fight with the big dude, but when you see a girl clearly feeling threatened and screaming go away maybe your human decency should kick in.<br />
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I was going to write about two more examples, but this is getting lengthy and I'm getting pretty worked up so I will stop there.<br />
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Hopefully, by now you get the picture. We were apparently battling a hydra in male form. But I didn't write this just to let you know how much being a girl can suck sometimes. No, instead I hope that this illustrates just how dangerous male entitlement and patriarchy can be.<br />
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Not only is it bad enough that these men tried to touch us or grab us repeatedly, but their reaction to our rejection is my real concern. Saying no opened us up to more violation and harassment than simply going with what they wanted.<br />
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No incited anger, aggression, and a strong desire to prove us wrong. You don't want me to dance with me? Here let me convince you through intimidation and physical force because that's how you win a woman's heart. I know some of you must wonder why we stayed as long as we did despite everything.<br />
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Leaving would not only limit our own personal freedom, it would also turn us into abusers of ourselves. Letting their actions shape our choices and decisions means that we are accepting the harassment as inevitable and not fighting back for our right to be in public places without a male accomplice. It's important to note though, that I would not put myself in danger just to prove this point. That is why even though I don't want to limit my freedoms I still wait in the bathroom until the club has cleared out and take a winding way back to the parking garage to avoid and disgruntled men that we may have upset inside.<br />
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When people ask me what is feminism? Why are you a feminist? Or tell me that there is no need for feminism I can't help, but have a strong desire to slap them.<br />
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Do you want to know why I need feminism? I need feminism so that I can go in public places without a male chaperone and still feel safe. I need feminism so that I can say decline attention from a male and that be the end of the conversation. I need feminism so that I don't have to flinch when someone brushes past me because I'm afraid they're trying to grab me.<br />
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I need feminism because I never want my beautiful niece to have to feel scared or violated or dirty simply because she dared to go out in public. I never want her to have to feel the way myself and so many other women do on a regular basis.<br />
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I think that a quote by Edmund Burke sums it up well, <i>"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to stand by and do nothing."</i> If you are not a part of the solution you are a part of the problem.<br />
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If you made it this far, you're probably just my mom. In which case I will note that there were cops everywhere and that neither Rachel nor I had anything to drink the whole night. So please don't panic.<br />
<br />HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-43735002014343730662015-04-02T16:51:00.000-05:002015-04-02T16:51:08.894-05:00A Picture is Worth a Thousand WordsA picture is worth a thousand words. We've all heard this classic cliche a million times, but have we ever sat down and really thought about it? While I think it's original conception was more in relation to the fact that a picture can speak for your actions or intentions, it seems like it has morphed into meaning that pictures can replace not only our words but our memories.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPu69G-uaCLoYb18aEOvkuzenbZJ2-RW-N4JJM9pRZR6z1E2NSueAptL5Eo7qxgfIvlYCQeaBoI7jhPCL69lP2owbHhIzCm_aGTL4PuYvvQhnnF6FEYy4BCLKG00sW_AK4T7FiuWZJHs/s1600/alicia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPu69G-uaCLoYb18aEOvkuzenbZJ2-RW-N4JJM9pRZR6z1E2NSueAptL5Eo7qxgfIvlYCQeaBoI7jhPCL69lP2owbHhIzCm_aGTL4PuYvvQhnnF6FEYy4BCLKG00sW_AK4T7FiuWZJHs/s1600/alicia.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend Alicia! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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When I visited Iguazu Falls (I swear I'll find something to talk about besides Argentina someday) one of the things that struck me the most, besides how beautiful it was, was that almost everyone was viewing it through a camera lens or phone screen. It was almost a challenge to find anyone over the age of 10 that was actually just looking at the Falls themselves.<br />
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I find it strange that even when you have something beautiful and wonderful right in front of us, we still are more focused on capturing it in something permanent to keep for later. Are we really that desensitized that we would rather look at a picture of something incredible than feel the mist hit your face or enjoy the way the light prisms make little rainbows that your iPhone can't possibly capture?<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6H9LvzpVCcJUKEOBfE9sx1Wf1xkIAYsd9h3InDi-QxaWIpLTeK-cKB24F0FfoKPrHGdUEfk5D1Opl2j9pI7PIc9zyAP0LqQsy5RzvRAz79QOqVc4h8rudNZIr88_nIhCY8v_vlA6HfQ/s1600/iguazu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz6H9LvzpVCcJUKEOBfE9sx1Wf1xkIAYsd9h3InDi-QxaWIpLTeK-cKB24F0FfoKPrHGdUEfk5D1Opl2j9pI7PIc9zyAP0LqQsy5RzvRAz79QOqVc4h8rudNZIr88_nIhCY8v_vlA6HfQ/s1600/iguazu.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This does nothing to capture how incredible it was!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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In the year 2014 we took close to <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/number-photos-taken-2014-approach-1-trillion-thanks-013002154.html">1 trillion</a> pictures. That sounds like a number that Dr. Evil would ask the President to give him to stop him from blowing up the moon. It sounds ridiculous! But how does 1 trillion pictures translate to our life experiences? Did we enjoy these moments more? Are our memories stronger and more solid? I can't help but doubt that.<br />
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While pictures can capture the way we looked and what we were doing it can't capture the way that moment made you feel. It can't tell you the significance of the situation. It can't replace the emotional imprints in your mind.<br />
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So maybe it's time that we put the camera/phone/ipad. Instead of trying to catch the moment, let it just exist. Even if a picture is worth a thousand words, it doesn't translate into a thousand little thoughts and feelings and moments you may be missing out on when you try to look at it through your camera lens.<br />
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XOXO,<br />
Hayley<br />
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<br />HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-47193586792196956472015-03-26T14:41:00.003-05:002015-03-26T14:43:48.645-05:00One Direction, Plane Crashes, and why it's okay to care about both. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uhYr2kid5z9KwgGz5CfiwEd_XYBSuikUSUXCsWw1B0OYsPir23GODTOsWcAD_PxbJAjw__KVdfE7DLNIYVngOQTChH6ctRBfY7EvSh4zcEIE-IdcfD9p5E6EFMsRfG5L8_gy4fAq1EQ/s1600/zayn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_uhYr2kid5z9KwgGz5CfiwEd_XYBSuikUSUXCsWw1B0OYsPir23GODTOsWcAD_PxbJAjw__KVdfE7DLNIYVngOQTChH6ctRBfY7EvSh4zcEIE-IdcfD9p5E6EFMsRfG5L8_gy4fAq1EQ/s1600/zayn.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Admit it, you're a tiny bit sad to see him go.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
As some of you may have seen on CNN Breaking News (I don't think they actually covered it, but I wouldn't be surprised), <a href="http://www.vox.com/2015/3/25/8291625/zayn-malik-one-direction-leaves">Zayn from One Direction</a> has decided to leave the boy band. While 13-year-old, hearts all over the world have been breaking the rest of the populace has generally been disgusted at the fact that anyone could be concerned about boy band news at a time when <a href="http://www.cnn.com/2015/03/24/europe/france-plane-crash/">planes are being intentionally crashed into mountains</a> and hundreds of woman have been <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/news/boko-haram-has-killed-more-than-1000-civilians-this-year-hrw-says/">taken captive</a>. Though it makes sense to see this as an example of how loathsome the younger generation is, that is really missing a much bigger point that this shows.<br />
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Now bear with me, but sometimes we <i>need </i>a boy band potentially breaking up to be the worst thing to happen to us today. Every day there are upwards of 7 billion different lives playing out. Their day is sometimes boring, sad, happy, interesting, wonderful, devastating, average, a whole multitude of things that make up their individual life. Now imagine trying to care about every single of those lives, the good, the bad, the plain.<br />
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You have hopefully realized that you can't. It's impossible to care about everything and every single person around you no matter how empathic you are. In fact, it's emotionally exhausting trying to care about all of those things. Depending on your specific situation, you may be carrying around your own set of emotional baggage with that also.<br />
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While we do need to be aware of world around us and what is happening some days we need to just get by until the next one. And maybe thinking about and comprehending that day's tragedies are just not going to let you get there, so you have to place your sadness and emotions in other places that don't seem quite as important to others.<br />
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I guess the overall moral is that being upset about frivolous things does not take away from the gravity of the real tragedies, sometimes it just helps us deal with it.<br />
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So tomorrow we can mourn the loss of those 150 people that passed too soon in the Germanwings plane crash. But today if we can only handle mourning the loss of the "cute one" from One Direction, let that be enough.<br />
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XOXO<br />
Hayley<br />
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<i>*Note: While I doubt that many 13-year-olds will wake up tomorrow and care about the hard hitting news stories, I thought that this was an adept example to illustrate how I think this could apply to anyone. </i>HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-16516343480693450242015-03-04T15:29:00.000-06:002015-03-06T09:40:45.653-06:00Are we making ourselves lonely?How well do you really know your friends or significant others? You probably spend a lot of time with them and talk about a huge range of topics. But does that mean you really<i> know </i>them?<br />
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When I was in Argentina I spent every day with the same few people. By default of not being able to distract ourselves with cell phones or really talk to anyone else, we spent a lot of time talking about everything. After three months, I felt safe in saying that I knew them all pretty well. But then one evening it somehow came up that one person's sibling had a brain tumor and other's parent had terminal cancer. I was blown away by the fact that I knew nothing at all about these people, not really. </div>
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It's so easy to live our lives pretending to go deep and pretending to really share ourselves with others when we actually do it so rarely. I know that I personally am guilty of doing the tell you enough unimportant information that you feel like you know me, when I've really told you nothing at all. </div>
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Our deepest conversations so often focus on our past struggles or on the silly surface level details rather than our current challenges. We fake real connections then wonder why we feel so lonely and isolated. </div>
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I'm not suggesting that we start off all our relationships and conversations with heavy, difficult topics, but rather that we make it a point to share those at some point in time. </div>
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I think what makes my relationship so strong with my closest friends (aka my girls) is not that I know what each of them does every day or what each of their favorite colors are, it is that I know what scares them and what motivates them and what makes them uniquely them. The other stuff is great to know, but the fact that one of my friends loves rice and the other is obsessed with Kristin Wiig does little to let me know who they really are. </div>
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So often, we try to guard ourselves against getting hurt, when really we end up hurting ourselves much more by not creating real connections with the people around us. I challenge you to make your relationships with people more intentional whether, platonic, romantic, familial, or otherwise. </div>
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Sometimes you are going to get hurt or rejected, but sometimes you are also going to create deeper, more meaningful relationships with people. I don't know about you, but I think that makes the risk worth it. </div>
HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-85506304056185165782015-03-02T17:50:00.001-06:002015-03-04T16:29:24.719-06:00Guess who's back?!Back by popular demand... well not really, but we'll say there was a demand, I am blogging again! Unfortunately, as a few of you have noticed, Classy Abroad got a virus or something and is just unintelligible gibberish. So I have decided to return to my roots and go back to the original Classy in KC!<br />
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But never fear, you can still view of my tales and adventures here. Who doesn't want to relive the glory of the<a href="http://classyinkc.blogspot.com/2013/08/mendoza-misadventure-day-1.html"> time I got robbed, ripped my pants, AND called myself a prostitute by accident</a> all in one weekend? Or the time I <a href="http://classyinkc.blogspot.com/2015/03/lujan-zoo-and-petting-tigers.html">got to bottle feed some tigers</a>. But we all know that everyone's favorite story of all is how I helped <a href="http://classyinkc.blogspot.com/2013/10/we-took-care-of-body.html">transport a dead body</a>.<br />
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While I can't promise anything to quite that caliber of excitement in the near future, I do vow to begin regularly blogging again so you all can keep up on what thrilling things happen from my cubicle!<br />
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Here's to new adventures!!HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-13424581204298216042014-10-23T15:47:00.000-05:002015-03-04T17:04:53.819-06:00Playing it Cool: The "Cool Girl" ComplexEver have a moment where you read something or see something and it just instantly resonates with you on a close and personal level? Well, I've recently had that kind of a moment with the movie/book <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2267998/" target="_blank">Gone Girl</a>. I loved it so much that I watched in theaters twice and am now reading the book. Even a couple weeks later, I just can't stop thinking about the crux of the novel, the "cool girl" tirade.<br />
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Here is an excerpt of her rant to give you some background <i>(Note: this has been edited for clarity and vulgarity, but the full text can be found<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/13306276-gone-girl" target="_blank"> here</a>!)</i></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Men always say that as the defining compliment, don't they? She's a cool girl. Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer... Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don't mind, I'm the Cool Girl."</blockquote>
First of all I want to clarify that this speech isn't to imply that some women can't enjoy football and beer and also be stunningly beautiful at the same time. Rather it showcases how women feel the need to edit who they are to conform to a man's ideals and desires. But the key takeaway I got was the fact that a Cool Girl never gets angry. Setting down boundaries or asking for respect from your partner almost instantaneously makes you a bitch.<br />
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I'll admit it (and I'm sure I'm not alone on this one) that I have tried my very best to be a Cool Girl. You're going to be an hour late and I'm already at the restaurant? No problem, I'll just hang out! You would rather go to the bar and get drunk with your friends than meet my parents? Have a ball! I don't give a shit what you do! Those are real things that I've done that are really bothersome to look back on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpkuBrGtrrNggEaf09Xpn6HwqerIy8PR85IrkVnqxuTCjKhcHupPhEbUxRHovrNycSAV7xdg_xEYuWR9bLpoMONsXYEeIFO6EM1K4VUhGsY3Fj8H4bngEoBtYwzy7uyyQVydz0XrqnsGY/s1600/images.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpkuBrGtrrNggEaf09Xpn6HwqerIy8PR85IrkVnqxuTCjKhcHupPhEbUxRHovrNycSAV7xdg_xEYuWR9bLpoMONsXYEeIFO6EM1K4VUhGsY3Fj8H4bngEoBtYwzy7uyyQVydz0XrqnsGY/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
Why on earth did I lie and say that I was fine with something when really I was pretty angry about it? Why was I scared to object and ask that a man respect me and the plans he made with me? It's because I wanted to be the Cool Girl. I wanted them to love me and think that I was the greatest girl in the world because I was fun and never got mad about anything. Because if I said no, you can't go out with your friends because you made a promise to me I'm instantly the bad guy. Funny how a woman simply asking to be treated with respect makes her the nag that nobody wants to date.<br />
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Movies have been giving us unrealistic expectations of relationships for our whole life, so why does it matter anymore this time? I think the answer lies in the fact that this is a more believable, subtle lie perpetrated by our popular culture. It's generally understood that the busty super model isn't generally a real life attainable woman. But the Cool Girl, she's played in the understated, I'm just so average and cool I can't be made up. I was created to be the real woman for the masses. </div>
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So we try and we try to make ourselves more Cool and fun and quirky and laid back to win over the hearts of men that are breaking ours by treating us like a doormat. We let men and society put us into categories (once again!) of either super fun or neurotic and bitchy, when it's really more like we're the doormat or the self-respecting woman. </div>
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In the end, I guess our only defense is to be ourselves, unashamed of the fact that we don't know everything about football or that we expect our significant others to keep plans. While we can't fight Hollywood, we can fight our own willingness to become yet another stereotype of the ideal woman. </div>
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I may not be an ideal woman or a Cool Girl, but I am myself for all of my flaws and triumphs and I encourage you to attempt to embrace that a little more, because what makes you awesome is your uniqueness not your eagerness to please. </div>
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Stay Classy,</div>
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Hayley XO</div>
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-57946260373126140552014-10-15T15:46:00.000-05:002015-03-04T17:03:59.451-06:00Lions, Tigers, Ebola, Oh My!!<div class="MsoNormal">
Now that Ebola has <a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/news/ebola-outbreak-texas-health-care-worker-who-treated-thomas-eric-duncan-tests-positive/">officially infected two people</a> in the United States let’s watch the widespread panic ensue! While I have no medical training and absolutely no authority to speak of the disease in terms of how concerned you should be, there is a separate side to all mass epidemics that is not founded in fact, intelligence, or common sense, that I feel comfortable speaking to, the racist/discriminatory side effects. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9pglYMlxren0X6xpdjl21FQbb3wZhlB-qdoEOEAWD1XXdnEidmIz3Bf09h12BWUZPS6xOteKuuDSO0Q8kcpexZAZ-ktnmswnBA13ptTIgSo6ZuIUog5-1eLJGs6O3s5Q20K-bxmw8pFQ/s1600/MonstersIncMoment4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9pglYMlxren0X6xpdjl21FQbb3wZhlB-qdoEOEAWD1XXdnEidmIz3Bf09h12BWUZPS6xOteKuuDSO0Q8kcpexZAZ-ktnmswnBA13ptTIgSo6ZuIUog5-1eLJGs6O3s5Q20K-bxmw8pFQ/s1600/MonstersIncMoment4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CAYQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fjoyce-octobersky.blogspot.com%2F2011%2F12%2Fmovie-moment-monsters-inc.html&ei=Vpo-VIb5OIuiyASTxoKQBQ&psig=AFQjCNH1CtMcgYvuc0J774efKGRtndVQtQ&ust=1413475280943761" target="_blank">Source</a></td></tr>
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This morning, while listening to the radio on my commute to work, they were discussing the second healthcare worker to be diagnosed with Ebola and the extreme measures some people are going to, to protect themselves. During this discussion KSYN radio host, <a href="http://www.ksyn925.com/">Big Al</a> brought up whether or not you should be scared if you have a Liberian taxi driver.</div>
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Wait… what? Let’s stop right there and examine that statement before we even go into his rationale for making it. First, stereotyping that your only contact with people of West African descent will be in taxis because everyone knows that only Africans and Indians drive taxis! Also, I have a sneaking suspicion that African will pass as close enough to Liberian for most people.</div>
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He continued further to say, should we be concerned if he’s had other passengers that were also from West Africa and could possibly be infected. Once again, throwing down the casual racism by assuming that other Liberian nationals would only choose to ride in a taxi driven by a fellow Liberian. I’m sure there’s some kind of App for that similar to BackPeopleMeet.com but called AfricansMeetInTaxis.com</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYElcNQjT9S1mGkiNJtstA4TD7uS3mUZPP2jSINR3roK83QVriEht-CtxKNY7bRAuTXdvrnJkkOh_3dECPTg4Dok9tBYZu1KYWjTxKpTDuc6xgCtg1mDNOE1_jx7nOokmwMuDzz7-htmv/s1600/taxi.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfYElcNQjT9S1mGkiNJtstA4TD7uS3mUZPP2jSINR3roK83QVriEht-CtxKNY7bRAuTXdvrnJkkOh_3dECPTg4Dok9tBYZu1KYWjTxKpTDuc6xgCtg1mDNOE1_jx7nOokmwMuDzz7-htmv/s1600/taxi.jpg" height="200" width="173" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://gettyimages.com/" target="_blank">Source</a></div>
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While I can vaguely/sort of/not really see where he was coming from with this logic it’s entirely based on stereotypes and backwards logic. If you regularly use taxis then, yes, you do have more reason to be concerned because your driver (regardless of his nationality) does come into relatively close contact with various people coming from a variety of places. But please don’t assume that because he is African or seems to appear African that he is Liberian and, therefore, infectious.</div>
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This is just one instance of what I’m sure will become an epidemic in itself. Another example being a relative of mine being afraid to post pictures of visitors from Eastern Africa being hosted by her church because people may think they brought Ebola with them. Despite the incredibly large geographic distance between them and countries experiencing infections.</div>
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Every disease and epidemic have its victims both in physical death tolls and in societal toll and the Ebola outbreak will be no different. So feel free to wear masks and rubber gloves every time you go out in public and use hand sanitizer till you pass out from the fumes, but please hold the racism and don’t fuel the panic because the internet will do plenty of that for you!</div>
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<i>If you are uninformed or would like to be more informed about general information concerning the disease I strongly recommend checking out this handy <a href="http://www.vox.com/2014/10/9/6905347/too-afraid-to-ask-about-ebola-virus-outbreak-symptoms">fact sheet!</a></i></div>
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Stay Classy,</div>
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-56265664343241322992014-02-19T15:45:00.000-06:002015-03-04T17:06:28.841-06:00Is everyone getting married without me?For everyone not in the Midwest, this may not be as much of an issue right now. But for all of us living in the very exceptionally landlocked part of the country, saying that everyone you know is getting married or having children may actually be true. In fact, I don't have enough fingers to count all the people that are my age (22) or below that are married or engaged that I've been friends with. It's sort of a surreal feeling to imagine people like you spending the rest of their lives with someone when you still feel like you're that awkward girl with the braces and cat eye glasses that was dying to be kissed.<br />
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So why does it feel like everyone is getting married? And why is it totally okay if they are and you're still in the single ready to mingle point in your life.<br />
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<a href="http://pinterest.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOw6jQnAjA32m43wfRCtZQk9-r4PUFuvrK8cUZzdaqgmNV222ITx5tW30aTI3jnjN_TBPskaxHiZNDtiqM2RDI8ZiC5-UUvsb67Uqt46Z-K2PdD7y0gCC34qpsLGKF7TPGmB3vRJOaHB6t/s320/mawwiage.jpg" height="224" width="320" /></a></div>
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First off, the reason that you seem to feel surrounded by married couples and soon to wed ones is because you have much greater access to acquaintances and not super close friends lives. Before people had Facebook and Instagram to bombard with photos of their ring and dress and flowers and #MCM husband the only way you found out was through word of mouth or the announcement in the newspaper. If you limited everyone you know that's engaged or married to only posting one thing about it, I bet it will seem like a whole lot less than you felt like before.<br />
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But all that being said. There is nothing wrong with people being super excited about the person they are going to spend the rest of their lives with. I mean, I can hardly restrain myself from posting every single picture I take of my beautiful niece because I want to share with the world how incredible she is when she makes one of her 5 different infant faces. Being excited is the completely natural thing to do and wanting to over share is pretty normal also.<br />
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The problem becomes when you take their gushing about their love as a challenge or an attack on how your love life is going. I firmly believe that 99.999% of the time it has absolutely nothing to do with you (sorry).<br />
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But still, you say, it makes you feel your single hood even more (grabbing the nearest cat and a pint of Ben and Jerry's). The biggest mistake you are making probably lies in that you are ignoring all the totally awesome things you have done too. For myself I went on a super awesome adventure and got a dog and have now realized I have a long way to go before I should ever be responsible for another human being.<br />
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<tr><td><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://cutestcatpics.com/" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjquvKkfIFiNRFr4KvBZBsewsom2F9G-vkSrqqOPTNntbsJuXbj5yqixZNNlypp0PU2Lg1jqWUsuX6jqJbaRLweE7EYY_Cd51s9R67BEhLDBZRbkFK5kb_yqmXz3ZNBzwrTuhhrEuk3-Ddb/s320/Cat-Eating-Ben-and-Jerrys-Ice-Cream.jpg" height="218" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Just don't let this happen!</td></tr>
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I guess the problem is that we try to turn our lives into one big marathon. We assume that we're all on this same path and that these people are meeting checkpoints ahead of us. When in reality it's like we're running in completely different races or maybe aren't wanting to be in a race at all!<br />
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So maybe everyone is getting married (probably not completely true but we can go with it), SO WHAT? Be happy for them but also be happy for yourself. Our accomplishments aren't limited to specific categories like relationships, worldly experience, education... they are open to being anything in the whole world which is pretty awesome.<br />
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And if none of that works at least you get to go shopping because you're going to need some outfits to wear to all those weddings.<br />
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XOXO<br />
HayleyHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-8034902155362737982014-01-14T15:44:00.000-06:002015-03-04T17:07:47.802-06:00The Hometown Blues: Getting Back to Normal<i>I apologize for the lack of posts recently, crazy (wonderful!!!) things have been happening. I will begin posting regularly once a week from now on. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>When I say "going back" I don't mean returning to Argentina, rather I'm talking about going back to the life I had before Argentina. I knew that studying abroad changed you and you would experience reverse culture shock when you got home, but I just didn't expect it to be like... this.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Exciting things like this munchkin! </td></tr>
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I thought that when I came back after studying abroad life would be exactly as it was before I left. For the most part, that is true. Things haven't changed all that much, but I have. It's like I'm looking at everything through different colored glasses now and it's familiar but slightly different.<br />
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The biggest challenge by far is dealing with the sense that my life is now boring. In Argentina, to be honest, I didn't feel like it was really all that exciting. Sure hoping a bus to go hike in the mountains for the weekend or hang out on the beach was no big deal. It became so normal that it didn't seem adventurous at the time. Now confined to everyday life of school, work, watching TV it seems like none of that can bring you the same rush as your adventures abroad.<br />
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Part of my problem also was that I was home for a good month and a half with no job and no one to spend time with during the day because everyone had jobs or school or their lives to carry on with. Winter breaks have always been rough for me, with the lack of structure and the feeling of isolation from your friends that have become a part of your daily routine.<br />
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I found myself in a major funk. I knew that I had friends I could have called to do stuff with. I had places I could have gone to visit if I had tried. In reality, I brought the boredom on myself. That "funk" creates a feeling of hopelessness about everything which prevents you from seeing clearly. Thankfully though I've managed to finally shake it off.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">My dog Jazzy helped give me a sense of purpose. </td></tr>
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Going through this odd period after returning home, I think I can see what I did wrong and what would have really helped me readjust without having to feel depressed. So here is my advice to you whenever making any life transition, whether it be returning from travel or graduating school or leaving a job.<br />
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<li><b>Wake Up:</b> When you have nothing to do for the day, it's easy to just sleep it all away until the early hours of the afternoon. Even though you can, don't. Force yourself to wake up at reasonable time everyday to help keep you from turning into a potato. </li>
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<li><b>Dress Up: </b>This one sort of falls into faking it till you make it. Getting dressed and doing whatever normal routines you would usually do (make-up, styling your hair, etc.) helps you keep that normalcy also and will make sure that you are ready if the opportunity for an adventure does arise. </li>
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<li><b>Busy Yourself:</b> Find something to do, anything at all. The 6 week or so period that I was at home was such a random amount of time I couldn't really do any work. But don't let that stop you. Find something to do, even if it's just volunteering to walk your neighbors' dog every day at a certain time. Having a purpose will motivate you to do other things. </li>
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<li><b>Plan Adventures: </b>One of the biggest things I learned in Argentina was independence and how little I had explored my own home. Let those things apply still after you get off the plane and check out new things nearby, even if you have to do it solo. </li>
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<li><b>Ask for Help: </b>I think this one is the most important of all. Don't bottle up your feelings because you're embarrassed. Let your friends and family know if you're not quite feeling like yourself. They're good to vent to and will also help get you back into a routine. </li>
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While I was ready for experiencing culture shock going to Argentina, I was not prepared for the hole in my heart leaving would create. The turning point for me was getting a dog and a brand new beautiful niece that both gave me a sense of purpose I had been lacking. But don't wait for some life changing event to knock you out of a weird mood. </div>
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I learned abroad to be independent and adventurous and to constantly challenge myself with things I never thought I could do. I just momentarily forgot all of that when I stepped off the plane. But now I know better for my next trip! </div>
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XOXO,</div>
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Hayley </div>
HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-2185006530034965072013-11-19T15:43:00.000-06:002015-03-02T15:49:20.027-06:00Coming Home: Life After Study AbroadBeing home has been great and well, weird. It's a bit like walking back into a life that isn't yours anymore. Despite how it felt, people moved on with their lives while I was gone. My sister's belly has gotten so big! My brother has moved into his own place. Even the animals have gotten chubbier. While at first it was a bit disorienting, it's now become more and more evident that things won't be the same way that they were before I left. Because not only has everyone else changed, I've changed and that's a bit hard to deal with.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Sharing some Argentine culture with my family!</td></tr>
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Luckily, the usual boredom that accompanies returning back from an exciting trip abroad will be short </div>
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lived, because I have so much to look forward to! With a baby on the way, a million friends to reunite with and my final semester of school fast approaching, I have no shortage of things to do. </div>
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One of the biggest things that has come with coming home though is the questions! Which believe me are not a problem because I could blabber on about Argentina for hours (oops already do!). But there are some really common questions I get that I know find hilarious because they seem so obvious after having lived and breathed the Argentine lifestyle for four months. So I decided to address the most common questions I get!<br />
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<b>Question 1: Did you just stick out everywhere as an American?</b></h4>
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Like most big cities, Buenos Aires is a total melting pot of cultures and ethnicities. But it turns out that Argentines, at least the ones in BA are generally very "white." Like the United States they are a country of European immigrants and the majority of the indigenous people were marginalized and live in the rural areas. So, in short I didn't really stand out from the locals that bad, until I started talking that is!<br />
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<b>Question 2: Did you just eat Mexican food all the time?</b></h4>
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I did a post previously on the most common foods I ate in Argentina, but generally it was a little bland in flavor compared to what I'm use to (lots of Mexican). Not to say it wasn't good but sugar and salt were the only spices we really used.<br />
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Also it was SO MUCH BREAD. Pretty much everything was breaded or involved bread in the meal. Now I love bread just as much as the next girl but it took it's toll. Besides bread, every meal included meat and a lot of it. Argentina is not a vegetarian friendly country!<br />
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<b>Question 3: Did your family speak English?</b></h4>
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If you haven't seen some of my previous posts, you should know that I adored my host family. They were a huge factor in making it an incredible experience. Fortunately, my host mom spoke English which allowed me to have more in-depth conversations about the culture, politics, history that would have been impossible with my limited vocabulary. But I spoke to my host Dad and sisters only in Spanish which was great practice!<br />
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Overall, I was surprised at how few people spoke English in the city. In the tourist areas it was pretty common but once you venture out you are probably on your own with whatever Spanish you can speak.<br />
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Now that it's done I'm excited to get started with my next adventure! As of right now the plan is to go to Spain/Italy? this summer. I've also applied for a Fulbright Grant to teach English in Malaysia but that wouldn't be till January 2015, if I get it. Even though I'm not totally sure of my future right now I'm excited to see what happens!<br />
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Besos,<br />
Hayley<br />
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-15879384699655592442013-11-11T15:43:00.000-06:002015-03-02T15:49:37.204-06:00Fair Well Argentina<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
In just a few hours I get on a plane to leave for home. I'm feeling such mixed emotions I don't even know what to say. It's that bittersweet feeling of being happy to go home but know that you're leaving the place that has become a home. In a rare moment that I don't have words to express what I'm feeling I've decided to just put pictures of my favorite memories. <i>Disfruta </i>(enjoy). </div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR8HC7HmDP9EfdanbPa5YbMFVgHjN_tOd6cejO5Nu9eG-YNykridQO79YwzNUA6niVmtWJmN-PT5SHDA1OjjGYdg3H2lMNW2D_E17leCLxrLpfps13MYmu7Nr9iVAsJyAORJVditFhWYUq/s1600/IMG_0572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR8HC7HmDP9EfdanbPa5YbMFVgHjN_tOd6cejO5Nu9eG-YNykridQO79YwzNUA6niVmtWJmN-PT5SHDA1OjjGYdg3H2lMNW2D_E17leCLxrLpfps13MYmu7Nr9iVAsJyAORJVditFhWYUq/s320/IMG_0572.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Making music videos with these girls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83k9tYNPl03w1d6s5r4SpoGyDowXQcBSRv9ftoVuAoCFEELlPHWEumBuO_8aqIcMBatQjs1CvWfq8l_liWhb_k_zTiPLeg3qDtob5PazTFiIiMCw3eAf66DAe6mWk-0yquCUzasAFlWAa/s1600/IMG_1359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83k9tYNPl03w1d6s5r4SpoGyDowXQcBSRv9ftoVuAoCFEELlPHWEumBuO_8aqIcMBatQjs1CvWfq8l_liWhb_k_zTiPLeg3qDtob5PazTFiIiMCw3eAf66DAe6mWk-0yquCUzasAFlWAa/s320/IMG_1359.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Finding this girl again after 10 years.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_ONJAzE_MTMycEJQdxJsRaG_gbMuZO-Zd08tG6Dzbx4Yz10pvJTdEGjODG_rvQeZ34b2xqNBJauZAss6sMtIg4QFH-9hhGcw3V47g8KNl13OMDEo305fshNhbcFIod7LSuUdTBnVDJUG/s1600/IMG_0714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm_ONJAzE_MTMycEJQdxJsRaG_gbMuZO-Zd08tG6Dzbx4Yz10pvJTdEGjODG_rvQeZ34b2xqNBJauZAss6sMtIg4QFH-9hhGcw3V47g8KNl13OMDEo305fshNhbcFIod7LSuUdTBnVDJUG/s320/IMG_0714.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Getting shushed in a museum</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7wgQiNzesBjwzTxz0WexC6NKsEgMD99MMWBPRCGz2Ai8enQTK5B8yVA9YF1ZfZD9BCcAkEZ60noSxtVbC9p-SyHZznLpcht8_mWc3xKNx4n0hifoLjC9v-tfnU0Idgilvsvx1LC0N6H1/s1600/IMG_0844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7wgQiNzesBjwzTxz0WexC6NKsEgMD99MMWBPRCGz2Ai8enQTK5B8yVA9YF1ZfZD9BCcAkEZ60noSxtVbC9p-SyHZznLpcht8_mWc3xKNx4n0hifoLjC9v-tfnU0Idgilvsvx1LC0N6H1/s320/IMG_0844.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Hiking in the Andes</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsSAHcvSQqGmz1JVzvG9qsbZ0zqhycm0Qb0izFsUdcMt-6jM7l4eCDHYr3jVy2KrvcUFRU0dcnfFsJ9bAMtMmHPOP7JbIV_NYAHiacKP0YyxunsKfQhD8r2IX4Bk-XmXQbVbsBh6UIH1j/s1600/IMG_1278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWsSAHcvSQqGmz1JVzvG9qsbZ0zqhycm0Qb0izFsUdcMt-6jM7l4eCDHYr3jVy2KrvcUFRU0dcnfFsJ9bAMtMmHPOP7JbIV_NYAHiacKP0YyxunsKfQhD8r2IX4Bk-XmXQbVbsBh6UIH1j/s320/IMG_1278.jpg" height="237" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Hanging out with tigers</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1F3iX8CBX-Egg4nx94EQNDv-ctVdxbm_Npb1G2dZmNH17u0xdsUUBcB4d5FTmATjszUjrgp5qlbYjBxO9MCWGUn8jfajnmJJlk9fBEYxZ985bLPE45xZzXVbHnJqAhl9vr5r-1SRoI5j/s1600/IMG_1324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1F3iX8CBX-Egg4nx94EQNDv-ctVdxbm_Npb1G2dZmNH17u0xdsUUBcB4d5FTmATjszUjrgp5qlbYjBxO9MCWGUn8jfajnmJJlk9fBEYxZ985bLPE45xZzXVbHnJqAhl9vr5r-1SRoI5j/s320/IMG_1324.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The countless selfies JJ took on everyone's phones.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48DaQmlgndV7AxBHmJ3JmLs3m9UbsRWmV6GkyP0Bm6zAdfE5ohEicegJkD3bpzE0bvfJDu0kCsbTjWVd8zkdl3cBGIgMwle_Dps_d5SV1tRoWV2YcgSRGrJDgtyumb3LddAQbOZ-2AM4x/s1600/IMG_1358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48DaQmlgndV7AxBHmJ3JmLs3m9UbsRWmV6GkyP0Bm6zAdfE5ohEicegJkD3bpzE0bvfJDu0kCsbTjWVd8zkdl3cBGIgMwle_Dps_d5SV1tRoWV2YcgSRGrJDgtyumb3LddAQbOZ-2AM4x/s320/IMG_1358.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Swimming in the ocean when it was 50 degrees out.</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINjmjylQAcw3wUInNe2ZeGz08gQLaFDPnAjmj1RtePZ00Yrkt3n-fm7xnMCT4WQD9y7pBV9hQDEgQjHh5Nrzi7j29i6HY_Gfpf_exa7KoLO84Er96NEfuYc_Pz1fcVkE4bya1gvgV1Ps6/s1600/IMG_1222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhINjmjylQAcw3wUInNe2ZeGz08gQLaFDPnAjmj1RtePZ00Yrkt3n-fm7xnMCT4WQD9y7pBV9hQDEgQjHh5Nrzi7j29i6HY_Gfpf_exa7KoLO84Er96NEfuYc_Pz1fcVkE4bya1gvgV1Ps6/s320/IMG_1222.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The multiple attempts to break in at Recoleta</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1PT7RZlr1fRXZyzWs-zbMFGG8T7ZEiKBGWo_Fpi6iKYJABMIoOl3NnDLiJ9YziWbdhJ3kEmapuJOWGBlGKgzfkEfr6RuoO2LSB8-jCNi83PJyxCXff6iiDxV6yKCa7ZIrl3V6TepjNTR/s1600/IMG_1136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU1PT7RZlr1fRXZyzWs-zbMFGG8T7ZEiKBGWo_Fpi6iKYJABMIoOl3NnDLiJ9YziWbdhJ3kEmapuJOWGBlGKgzfkEfr6RuoO2LSB8-jCNi83PJyxCXff6iiDxV6yKCa7ZIrl3V6TepjNTR/s320/IMG_1136.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The fear is real.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYG6JZ5QPyrd2gDU6Kpnu3xu5_NDX_vnHCkmWHhz77hJjTK3HkjiORdJUEq5oWwhthogsWmEYRK1DcvoqjV_JluH3rr7VuUZCg3LXf0t_j7KCXiwXXO5lbEiEdsDH0c9OQi9o51nFE38l/s1600/iguazu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcYG6JZ5QPyrd2gDU6Kpnu3xu5_NDX_vnHCkmWHhz77hJjTK3HkjiORdJUEq5oWwhthogsWmEYRK1DcvoqjV_JluH3rr7VuUZCg3LXf0t_j7KCXiwXXO5lbEiEdsDH0c9OQi9o51nFE38l/s320/iguazu.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Seeing this in real life!</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGKO_zcaSCb54voiK44HcH2n-lOPbyIm_D7ZzC5rVicOv6Hkp6rta89dC9JuGmrllZXIw3HCO6ad6kEFngZ395fuUEuEcF6sukiqi8YHiJJianG-OABeWzIC0jHjbpUQ_PXcroSYF5HNw/s1600/puertaiguazu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYGKO_zcaSCb54voiK44HcH2n-lOPbyIm_D7ZzC5rVicOv6Hkp6rta89dC9JuGmrllZXIw3HCO6ad6kEFngZ395fuUEuEcF6sukiqi8YHiJJianG-OABeWzIC0jHjbpUQ_PXcroSYF5HNw/s320/puertaiguazu.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Exploring!!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXxd5X9FXs-7r70t7uLj9Bf-HhJlKeBQRsJ_Jp-ddcCNQA3_lH8Vh48jWfseRBxXlne4z-i8lHcj4sfC6CcHvSESFtL5968k-aFASQLMNAm86_RZtTOExjIk9_Cquo_SESacGYc1dyYtV/s1600/tigrecomer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzXxd5X9FXs-7r70t7uLj9Bf-HhJlKeBQRsJ_Jp-ddcCNQA3_lH8Vh48jWfseRBxXlne4z-i8lHcj4sfC6CcHvSESFtL5968k-aFASQLMNAm86_RZtTOExjIk9_Cquo_SESacGYc1dyYtV/s320/tigrecomer.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Feeding a baby tiger.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3rPoD6hde8RGCw8vrwA4FsASogIkLfwfoVB9gxu4lgsFTRNmXBFKXVuy1EDWAwcy8WiRsyIX7i48gO_-TqGOoeB40nDysRKk0FE8ozcKzJ6briVbGqEe2YPAF4oW3AQA8yJAWx1nYgnO/s1600/barracha.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-3rPoD6hde8RGCw8vrwA4FsASogIkLfwfoVB9gxu4lgsFTRNmXBFKXVuy1EDWAwcy8WiRsyIX7i48gO_-TqGOoeB40nDysRKk0FE8ozcKzJ6briVbGqEe2YPAF4oW3AQA8yJAWx1nYgnO/s320/barracha.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Everything about this night. Oh Mendoza.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Y2yMsRTFqMgp9ttgMvpWvqO-6EMP6vgBARbbPPPJA6XMW7OyMVbAjkklneWA8T8zKLAfTxiAjqxUhvWs1nieOIvO3x0pqg6f_0-zIYCVpitIGEJwBdBZHGHRBJ4k5Qvjv_1DY3TbclY-/s1600/IMG_1368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Y2yMsRTFqMgp9ttgMvpWvqO-6EMP6vgBARbbPPPJA6XMW7OyMVbAjkklneWA8T8zKLAfTxiAjqxUhvWs1nieOIvO3x0pqg6f_0-zIYCVpitIGEJwBdBZHGHRBJ4k5Qvjv_1DY3TbclY-/s320/IMG_1368.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Family dinners, even by flashlight<br />
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So many things happened on this trip and we all changed so much. It's clique but studying abroad taught me so much about myself. I'll never forget you Argentina! Now just wish me luck that my flight all goes well this time!<br />
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Besos,</div>
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Hayley</div>
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-35420772984519070732013-11-08T15:42:00.000-06:002015-03-02T15:49:57.198-06:00Chau Chicos!!Before coming to Argentina I had thought about all the amazing things I would do, the beautiful sights I would see, and the adventures I would have. I never really factored in who I would be sharing all of those experiences with. While I think I prepared myself to miss my family and friends back home, the fact that I'll be going home is always in my mind. What I didn't think about was all the wonderful people I would meet and all the relationships I would make during my time abroad.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVhAchZ-ePE7UdkxDha0Auj_xhld_57NhnCmKGbUU0viCOJE9zHeT2_abl9ln2cNZuFMpeCwbS2hmcCUgPkLp0lb2aaWsAg7JHFWc7fk0oXLgF10tU5Xc6I90794xq4rhCD7-2QGs1NII/s1600/group1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDVhAchZ-ePE7UdkxDha0Auj_xhld_57NhnCmKGbUU0viCOJE9zHeT2_abl9ln2cNZuFMpeCwbS2hmcCUgPkLp0lb2aaWsAg7JHFWc7fk0oXLgF10tU5Xc6I90794xq4rhCD7-2QGs1NII/s320/group1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Taken by the guy with a broken arm, hilarious.</td></tr>
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Today I said good bye (though not forever!) to my gang. It was a bittersweet moment because as much as I want to be home, I don't want to lose all of these people. Over the course of four months we've shared so much more than what usually happens between friends I've had for years. Now that this is over, they will be the only people who can really understand what all the name, Argentina applies when we say it.<br />
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We've shared countless laughs together and tears too. Together we've watched each other become different people than we were before we stepped off that plane and into this adventure. It's a bond I never expected to be making but I'm so glad I did. There are a lot of great people I've met here that I will probably never see or hear from ever again but I'm happy I got the chance to meet them. I hope that they got as much from our relationships as I did from them.<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXL8AzUwPS3jxuC5Sk-t989afPJWViUg_5Arwl2oeoHeYJL_7Mo5hr_wyhiwGdz5DgaSdZ6pCAmP4gQw2VrGYp6tAPEgt1gY2xE7reKoZOuqPBE3mm8QrkE0Z50aH2ep2lA_vVz5pU6c2/s1600/group2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXL8AzUwPS3jxuC5Sk-t989afPJWViUg_5Arwl2oeoHeYJL_7Mo5hr_wyhiwGdz5DgaSdZ6pCAmP4gQw2VrGYp6tAPEgt1gY2xE7reKoZOuqPBE3mm8QrkE0Z50aH2ep2lA_vVz5pU6c2/s320/group2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Gotta love our gansta poses.</td></tr>
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Even if my group never gets back together again, though I really hope we do, I just hope they know how much I love them. We're a family and they helped make my experience here in Argentina what it has been. At the end of the day I don't think I'm going to remember the frustrating times but rather the great times and the bond that we created.<br />
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I thought I would come home from Argentina more experienced about the world and with memories of cool places I saw. But it turns out I'm coming back with something so much better, a whole new set of people to love!<br />
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So if you're reading this, remember it's not <i>chau</i> it's <i>nos vemos</i> because we will see each other again!<br />
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Besos,<br />
HayleyHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-49671178558864100352013-10-29T15:50:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:50:53.588-06:00We took care of the body.Just in time for halloween one of the strangest and creepiest things I've done to date happened with my host family in Entre Rios. It involved opening a real coffin, dealing with a skeleton, and black trash bags. Believe me, it's just a strange as it sounds!<br />
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For the background of the story, we were spending the weekend at my host grandma's <i>casa</i> in Concepcion del Uruguay, Entre Rios. This house has been in the family for a very, very long time and they've had the same neighbors for all of that time also. About 3 months ago the man who lived in the neighboring house passed away. Instead of burying people in the ground like we do it the states, they put the caskets in wall crypts and they also don't embalm the body so you can sometimes smell them decomposing which is disgusting! The man's daughter, who now owns the house lives in the US currently and asked my host family if they could do a big favor.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Because Bob Ross</td></tr>
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Like I said, they are buried in wall crypts that must be paid for, like rent, to keep your family member there. The daughter didn't want to have to pay for 2 crypts when she could just combine them into one location so she asked us to go and move her grandmother's body into the same crypt as her dad. I ASSUMED that meant that we would need to move to coffin to a new area, but then we had to stop to pick up black trash bags and I got a little worried...<br />
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We went to the cemetery and got some of the employees to open up the mother's crypt. The brought along a shove and a broom which made me even more worried than I originally was. The pulled the coffin out and laid in on the ground then pried it open with the shovel rather ungracefully. With no gloves they reached in and began pulling out the bones and shoving them into a black trash bag. I saw the skull and a foot that hadn't decomposed for some reason. It was a train wreck you couldn't look away from. I should also note that my family was a freaked out as I was this whole time.<br />
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After they picked through the decomposed remains of the fabric and wood they decided they had gotten all of the body and wiped their brows (EWWWWW) and knotted up the bag. They then opened the son's crypt and shoved the bag in beside the coffin, thank god they didn't open his!<br />
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It was just so disrespectful and gross and weird. That's also why I have no pictures, I didn't want to add to the disrespect we were already doing this woman. Her name was Argentina, which I found kind of funny and she died in 1958. Hopefully she doesn't come back to haunt us.<br />
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After that we were all kind of in shock as to what we had just saw and went to visit the grave of my host mom's father and some other relatives. As we were doing this we saw the three men pushing past a cart with the remains of the coffin on it. A piece of the once white but now brown and gross fabric flew off onto the path.<br />
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It was the most bizarre experience I've ever had in my whole life. My host family told me that, that is NOT a common thing and it was extremely freaky to them also but at least I have an awesome story now!<br />
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It's one of those things that just makes me say, only in Argentina!!<br />
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Happy Halloween!!! Celebrate extra hard for me since Argentina is silly and doesn't celebrate the best holiday of the year.<br />
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Besos,<br />
HayleyHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-9955832469287137452013-10-29T15:41:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:51:41.965-06:00Why begging me to kiss you doesn't work.One of the biggest things that's put a damper on my time here in Argentina is absolute lack of respect men have for women (generally, there are exceptions). I understood before I came here that guys would act differently than at home. They would be more aggressive and forward. I thought I was okay with that, I mean how bad can it be? They just think I'm really hot right? Well turns out it's significantly more bothersome than I thought it would be. I previously wrote a post about street harassment in Argentina, <a href="http://www.findingmyvirginity.com/2013/09/culture-of-catcall-guest-post.html" target="_blank">here</a>. But for the moment I would like to talk about the lack of understanding that no means no.<br />
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First, I'll give you my little anecdote that brought on my need to discuss this. While I was having a lovely weekend in Iguazu we met some local guys that seemed really cool. We agreed to go out to a club with them. Luckily they didn't speak a lick of English so we could tell each other if we felt uncomfortable really easily because they couldn't understand.<br />
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The night was great for a while we danced in a pretty non-sexual way, compared to dancing in the states. I mean the majority of the time you're a good foot or two away from your partner. At some point during the night the guy I was dancing with tried to kiss me. I pulled away and he apologized, <i>perdon, perdon lo siento! </i>I told him it was okay and continued to dance.<br />
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The second time he tried, because if at first you don't succeed try, try again, I told him that I didn't feel comfortable kissing someone in a public place. In retrospect that was a bad choice of words but cut me some slack because I had to explain it another language.<br />
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When it came time to walk home is when things got rough. (Note: I in no way whatsoever felt threatened or unsafe, if I had I promise that I would have gotten away!) We had a good 15 minute walk back to the hostel, normally the same distance I walk to school everyday, expect this felt like hours.<br />
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As soon as we exited the club the guy attempted to kiss me again which I deflected. He then argued with me the entire walk home about why I wouldn't kiss him. I told me that I didn't feel comfortable making out in the street with a perfect stranger and that in the states that's not how we do it (which could possibly be a lie, but oh well!). I just kept repeating that I was classy and didn't want to kiss a guy I didn't know.<br />
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He countered that in Argentine culture that was how you did it and we're in Argentina. He also repeatedly called it a "gift." I'm try to give you a "gift." I hope I don't need to explain to much how disgusting this rhetoric is to a female.<br />
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Just because it's a part of your culture in no way justifies forcing yourself on girls. What if I kicked him between the legs and then explained that, that was "just American culture" so he should deal with it? Sexual habits are a personal choice that may be influenced by your culture, but are not dictated by it.<br />
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Then we come to the a kiss is a gift comment. So now I'm suppose to rejoice that I have been given the gift of your mouth on my face! As a woman I should feel "lucky" that you are willing to kiss me because it's such a great honor. Thanks, but no thanks.<br />
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After we made it back to the hostel, I slammed the door in his face when he said that the reason I didn't want to kiss him was because he was indigenous. (Because yes, I'm racist and that's why I didn't want to accept his wonderful gift to women.) I was disgusted for his behavior ruining a perfectly wonderful evening and found out my friend had been battling a similar situation about not wanting to spend the night at the other guys house.<br />
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The most ironic part of all of this is that if he had simply accepted it when I said I didn't want to kiss him time, I probably would have at the end of the night when we were back at the hostel. But the way he completely disrespected my choice to say no just made me disgusted with him. What he didn't seem to realize was that there is an inverse relationship between how many times you ask to kiss me and how likely I am to actually kiss you.<br />
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So why is this such a big problem? He just wanted to kiss me right? I shouldn't be overreacting. WRONG!!! This is a perfect example of what <b>rape culture</b> is. The idea that when a girl says no she doesn't really mean it. While I'm not accusing him of being a rapist, the fact that he just couldn't accept no about a kiss can only lead you to believe that he probably wouldn't accept no about sex either.<br />
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Assuming that I must want him because I'm a female and we are all just dying for men to offer to make out with us, shows a sharp divide that many men have about perception and reality. <b>They can't seem to perceive no for what it is, a no.</b> Women aren't as complicated as they seem to think. If I wanted to kiss him I would have, simply as that. But when I said I didn't want to he should have dropped it and respected my choice.<br />
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If you have to beg anyone to do anything sexual with you then you are perpetrating rape culture and disrespecting our right to choose who we share our body with. So the next time a girl politely declines to kiss you or go back to your room stop asking or she may slap you and go off on a rant about rape culture, which I totally would have if I had the vocabulary to explain it in Spanish.<br />
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Moral of the story is that anything but enthusiastic consent means stop trying! Lucky for me, I didn't feel like the situation was threatening and had other people around me. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation and in anyway feel threatened don't be afraid to make a scene or get out. Believe me, I'm not against simply screaming at a dude to go away if he isn't taking a hint. Always worry about your personal safety first!<br />
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Have you had a similar experience? How did you choose to handle it? Let me know!<br />
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Besos,<br />
Hayley<br />
<br />HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-13933853660438232942013-10-26T15:40:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:52:01.129-06:00Iguazu Falls!One of the biggest attractions in Argentina is the chance to see the waterfalls at Puerta Iguazu, which is one of the seven natural wonders of the world. I'll first warn you that pictures in no way can do justice to the spectacular sight that is the waterfalls. It was probably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. A must see if you ever find yourself in the area.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">We had just went under that!</td></tr>
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The down side of this trip was that we had to ride a bus for 20(!!!!!) hours to get there, semi coma. It was quite a long ride but definitely worth it. Plus I had my friend Alicia, the only other girl who can talk as much as me, along for the ride!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Alicia and I!</td></tr>
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We got there in the early afternoon so we didn't have enough time to do the whole park that the falls are located in that day. Also we were pretty worn out and gross feeling from the bus ride over. So instead we walked around the small town of Puerta Iguazu and got lost. One of the first things we noticed was that people are so much more friendly than what we usually get in Buenos Aires. I imagine it's just a city thing. But while we were trying to decide what beer to get, because they didn't have Quilmes (which if you've ever been to Argentina is shocking because that's ALL we drink), we meet a nice guy named Eduardo that wanted to hang out with us later. We told him we could get drinks at the bar at our hostel later. The best part was he didn't speak a lick of English so we were forced to use Spanish.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">A view of the lower trail from the upper!</td></tr>
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Some other people we met during our stay was a hilarious older woman from England named Shelia that just thought American's English was weird, a super sweet Australian couple that didn't know any Spanish, and some locals that worked as rangers in the Park.<br />
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At the Falls on Saturday, we decided to just go all in and do the all inclusive package. I mean we're only here once and in reality it wasn't actually that expensive ($50 American). It included a 30 minute safari ride through the jungle (you could choose to do this in English but we did it in Spanish because kind of the reason we're here), a boat ride to go underneath the falls on both sides of them, and then a peaceful ride in a raft down river to see the wild life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">The Devil's Throat, it was so big I couldn't get it in one picture!</td></tr>
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Going underneath the falls was amazing. There is no view more impressive than that and everyone was screaming like it was a rollercoaster. During the raft ride we got to see an alligator, monkey's, and a tucan, all wild! I've never actually seen animals like that in their natural habit and there's just something about it that makes it so much better than a zoo.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Coati! It will steal your food and has no fear of humans</td></tr>
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That evening we were exhausted and a bit sunburned but since it was our last night there were couldn't turn down the offer to go try out a new <i>boliche </i>(club) with the park rangers we met. They also couldn't speak any English at all which lead to some major confusion on my part. One of them Peheun (he's from the Yucatan Peninsula, in Patagonia, so that is not a common Spanish name, it's definitely indigenous) was try to explain his job to me which I didn't quite understand. I thought he said that his friends and him caught jaguars and made them pets. What he was trying to say was that they tagged jaguars with trackers to research where they weren't and help prevent poaching and them getting hit by cars, much better!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">No words needed!</td></tr>
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Among our little gang was the two rangers, Peheun and Julio, and a lovely Colombian guy and a French guy that works at the hostel. We were quite the eclectic little group. The <i>boliche</i> was super fun, we danced <i>reggatone</i> the whole time. Except when the YMCA came on and I was the only person that knew the right hand motions. It was also interesting that we were the only light skinned people in the whole place. Besides Buenos Aires, people look much more what you would imagine a South American to look like. We definitely drew attention for a bit when we walked in though. It was not a tourist spot and to far from any hostel for travelers to probably just wonder in. It was nice to hear real Spanish music and not all the Rhianna remixes they always play in the clubs in Buenos Aires.<br />
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Overall our trip was amazing and exhausting. I now have a bit of a tan, got to talk solely in Spanish for quite a while and saw one of the seven natural wonders of the world!<br />
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If you're ever in the area we stayed at the <a href="http://www.marcopoloinniguazu.com/hostel-iguazu-en-2/" target="_blank">Marco Polo Hostel</a> which I HIGHLY recommend. It was very affordable but made it very easy to meet people and the staff were extremely friendly!<br />
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Besos,<br />
HayleyHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-49623135291241580262013-10-15T15:39:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:40:07.474-06:00Weekend at Mar Del PlataIn honor of Cristobal Colon Day this Monday we had long weekend. As much as I would like to go into the irony of it all, especially in South America where many indigenous people are still oppressed I will instead just tell you about my lovely trip!<br />
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I've been dying to go to the beach and convinced my friends that, despite the not so warm temperatures we should try to do it anyway. Mar del Plata, meaning Sea of Silver was a lovely beach city. Because we were there in the off season it was pretty quiet and much cleaner than Buenos Aires. While I really enjoyed the city, there isn't much to do besides the beach, especially if it's not summer time.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">I had just accidentally soaked my pants.</td></tr>
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The temperatures ranged between low 50- 60s most of the weekend only getting hot (72) on the day that we were leaving. But we didn't let that stop us! While Argentines in winter coats watched we got into our bikini's and ran into the freezing (REALLY REALLY FREEZING) ocean. It probably wasn't the brightest idea, but I don't seem to be sick yet!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">It's much colder than it looks!</td></tr>
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Because of the weather and lack of other activities we spent a lot of time at the hostel, which was really fantastic! The owner was super nice and genuinely helpful. She spoke both English and Spanish and we spent a good couple of hours chatting about politics, economics, and the US with her. She also let us sat past check out time so we could go to the beach one last time before we caught a bus back to Buenos Aires. If you're ever in Mar del Plata I would highly recommend the <a href="http://www.hotelpergamino.com.ar/" target="_blank">Hotel Pergamino</a>, it was a great experience.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">It was super foggy Sunday.</td></tr>
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We cooked all our meals, had some great life chats, and slept on the beach. All in all it was a fantastic lazy weekend!<br />
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-76852075284182195332013-10-15T15:38:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:52:26.839-06:00Alcohol and Rape: Intoxication Doesn't Equal ConsentIn light of the massive outrage over the story of Daisy Coleman I thought it would be appropriate to discuss a very serious flaw we have in our logic concerning rape. Daisy is a girl from Maryville, MO that was allegedly raped, dropped on to her front lawn in freezing temperatures, and then harassed to the point of having to move. Her alleged rapist was let off the hook entirely, with no explanation. While this story is most definitely tragic, it's not the first of it's kind. A common factor in this particular case and many others in alcohol and what that means towards your consent.<br />
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But let's talk about what the fact that she willing drank alcohol means in terms of her being raped.... NOTHING.<br />
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Unfortunately, this may actually be a radical idea, that a female choosing to drink alcohol in no way makes her at fault for her rape. To often we hear the "she was asking for it" or "she shouldn't have been drinking" as ways to justify men's horrific actions against women. During the Stubenville trial the defenders of the men convicted held the fact that the girl <i>chose</i> to get drunk as reason enough for it to be okay to sexual assault her.<br />
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Maybe you're having your doubts. You're not sure if it can really be rape if a girl voluntarily put herself in that position. But let's think about the implications of that thought process. Essentially that means that as a female I shouldn't drink alcohol because then I'm putting myself in a position to be raped. I shouldn't wear revealing clothing because I'm asking to be raped. Hell, I shouldn't leave the house because then I put myself in the way of men that may attempt to rape me. While it seems dramatic it's exactly what that ideology applies. We have a word for it and it's called <b>rape culture</b>.<br />
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Our society has a major problem of deeming women as the reason behind their sexual assaults. I'm not meaning people that are radical, chauvinist extremist but everyday people who would probably say they consider women as completely equal. Rape culture, the ideologies that help to blame the victims for their assaults, is something so engrained in our society it's nearly sub-conscience.<br />
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We instantly try to rationalize a reason for what that girl could have done to protect herself. Why do we never stop and ask why we even need to worry about protecting ourselves?<br />
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I won't walk down dark alley's alone or get into a strangers car or accept a drink from someone I don't know, but the problem is that, that isn't enough. Rapists are not psycho's or creepy old men, they're men that you may feel comfortable around. They're boys that you thought were cute. They're someone you know. <b>Over <a href="http://www.rainn.org/get-information/statistics/sexual-assault-offenders" target="_blank">2/3rd</a>'s of rapes are committed by someone the victim knows.</b> Just let that soak in.<br />
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The question shouldn't be what did she do wrong, but rather what is society doing wrong in that so many men can't understand why having sex with an intoxicated or otherwise girl is wrong?<br />
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Instead of teaching me how to "protect" myself by essentially limiting my personal freedoms, why aren't we teaching men how to not be the criminal.<br />
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I shouldn't have to be afraid to have a drink because someone may take advantage of me. I live in hope of the day where I can drink, dress, and go where I want without living in fear that someone may take that as my consent their sexual advances. While sometimes that seems hopeless, it can only happen if we start the conversation and change our ideology.<br />
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So rather than saying "no means no" let's start saying, ONLY YES MEANS YES. Anything less, is not consensual. I don't have to say no for a man to realize that having sex with a highly intoxicated person is wrong, that should be a no brainer.<br />
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Honestly, I could go on about this for days but I'll leave it at this. It breaks my heart that I feel so compelled to explain why this is a problem and I look forward to time where it is universally understood.<br />
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Most Sincerely,<br />
Hayley<br />
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-26808829589833769962013-10-08T15:35:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:53:45.134-06:00Pilgrimage to Lujan: First 60km WalkMany of you are probably completely confused as to why the heck anyone was walking 60km (almost 40 miles) and have no idea what I mean by pilgrimage. So I'll briefly give you the basics of why 2.5 million people intentionally did this to themselves this weekend.<br />
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Argentina as you may already know is a predominately Catholic country, the current pope is actually from Buenos Aires (love you Papa Francisco!). Like many other Catholic countries Argentina has a patron saint, Our Lady of Lujan. You may have heard of Our Lady of Guadalupe, who is the patron of Mexico. Every year a pilgrimage is made from Buenos Aires to the small city of Lujan in celebration of the fest day of Our Lady of Lujan. The purpose is not to raise money or protest, it's more about spiritual enlightenment and personal sacrifice. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Our Lady of Lujan</td></tr>
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My host parents are both devout Catholics and do the walk every year, though they've never finished the whole thing. When they asked me to go I thought it would be an interesting experience and also a really cool insight into my own personal Catholic faith. But I had no idea how hard it would be. </div>
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Starting at 12PM in the afternoon we began walking from Buenos Aires with thousands of other people. We were organized into groups with our churches and each group carried a statue of St. Lujan. On the cart holding the statues were loud speakers over which they played music, lead prayers, and asked trivia questions during the walk to keep people entertained. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Just a constant stream of people.</td></tr>
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The first few hours weren't too bad. People were gathered on the street cheering for us, traffic was stopped as thousands of people swarmed the streets, and there was an overall sense of excitement in the air. We had 5 "check points" at which we stopped and were given snacks, water, and had the opportunity to rest our feet for about 30 minutes. Unfortunately, these check points were about every 3 hours or so and were about 6-10 miles apart. </div>
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By about 7PM it was starting to wear on me, not only physically, but mentally. My left foot was killing me and I could have sworn I had a blister on the bottom of my foot, but nothing was there. I chalked it up all being in my head and decided to keep going. At every check point you have the option of riding the bus to the end point to meet everyone. </div>
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By 10PM I was dying. My foot was in so much pain I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. I could see that everyone else around me was also not feeling their best so I just smiled and responded <i>bien!</i> each time they asked how I was doing. I didn't want to be a baby. That last hour was the longest of my entire life it felt like. I just kept thinking, just around this bend we'll get to stop. Just go a little further you can make it.</div>
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We finally reached the next check point in La Reja at 11PM and had people there to rub out our sore muscles. I had a lovely little boy named Manuel that knew a few words in English. My brain was just to exhausted to even attempt to process Spanish at that point. I was done. There was no way in hell I was going to keep going for another stretch of 3 or 4 hours. I knew I was at my breaking point and I needed to just stop, even though it was embarrassing to see people much older than me continue on. </div>
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Once on the bus, I immediately passed out into a coma and didn't wake till we were in Lujan at 6AM the next morning. Going to mass outside the beautiful Cathedral with hundreds of thousands of other Catholics, limping, and dragging themselves along was amazing. People were just so overwhelmed with the emotions of the moment. That they had made. It was a beautiful thing to see. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">This was packed full of people.</td></tr>
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When I got back home I checked out my feet more closely and realized I had a blister larger than a quarter on the sole of my left foot, no wonder it hurt so bad. Also several of my toes were bleeding from chaffing and I still haven't regained full feeling in my left pinky toe (3 days later). I'm glad I stopped when I did, 20 miles was plenty enough for me. </div>
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I get that a lot of people can't understand why this was so important or spiritually enlightening. My friends and classmates definitely didn't. But I think it was the fact that this wasn't a cultural experience for me as much as it was also a religious experience. It was testing yourself and faith along side of 2.5 million other believers. Something I'll probably never get a chance to ever do again. </div>
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While there is no way I would ever do this again I'm glad that I can say that I did. So if you're ever in Buenos Aires around the beginning of October consider checking it out. </div>
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Besos, </div>
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Hayley</div>
HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-86896189387205921312013-09-29T15:35:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:52:59.176-06:00Lujan Zoo and Petting Tigers!In the United States the most exciting things my weekends usually consisted of was a trip to Half Price Books and a cafe, definitely not the case in Buenos Aires. This Saturday I got to do something that I definitely wouldn't have been able to do at home, or anywhere in the US I'm pretty sure. I got to pet and feed (just milk) real life, full grown tigers. It was definitely one of the coolest experiences of my<br />
life.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">It practically poses for the picture.</td></tr>
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The zoo in Argentina that allowed us to do this was located in the middle of nowhere about 1.5- 2 hours away from the city center of Buenos Aires. I'll be honest, the bus isn't super fun because you're not guaranteed a seat but it only costs $AR15 which is like less than $2 so I can't complain. If you're wondering what bus, you take either bus 57 or 11 that says Lujan on the front. Just tell the driver to take you to Lujan Zoo and they should know what you're talking about. It also only costs $AR150 ($25) to get into the zoo which gives you access to all the animals and a free camel ride. The only extra things you would pay for is food. It's completely worth it's insanely cheap price.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Giving a tiger a belly rub!</td></tr>
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While petting the tigers was beyond amazing, the rest of the zoo wasn't quite so stellar. The animals cages were extremely small and had way to many animals in one pen. It looked more like a persons back yard than a zoo. They didn't look malnourished but the horses, llamas, and the other animals shoved in with them could have definitely used a little help. Their fur was dirty and matted and they were cramped in an over crowed pen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Can you find the random camel?</td></tr>
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People also claim that the animals, the ones you touch at least, were drugged. I'm still not sure if I think that's true or not. They did seem very sleepy and lethargic when we were petting them though. An hour or two later after they were feed and we weren't allowed to pet them anymore, they seemed much more active and playful. The zoo claims the reason the tigers, lions, and bears are so calm is because they are well feed and are raised with dogs. Seeing a tiger and a dog rough house is quite a sight.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Just hanging out in it's cage.</td></tr>
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Unfortunately, it rained very heavily before we got to ride camels and touch the elephants. The zoo didn't close because of the rain, but nearly all the workers left. It was completely deserted, just us and the animals which was kind of cool.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">This llama was all in my business</td></tr>
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Before petting the tigers, something I'll probably never get a chance to do again in my life, I thought I would be really scared. But they were really more like oversized cats that were tolerating your presence. The ones to watch out for were the llamas roaming around wanting food. They would get right in your face!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Managed to get this beautiful shot</td></tr>
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While I'm not sure I completely approve of the zoo's conditions it was an absolutely incredible experience. I can add tigers to the list of exotic animals I have petted now, along with dolphin's the summer before last. I hope this isn't the last of my animal adventures (hint, hint Kale Turner).<br />
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Besos,<br />
HayleyHayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-77282289416269111492013-09-27T15:33:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:54:03.103-06:00What I LOVE about ArgentinaLiving in a foreign country definitely has it's challenges. I didn't realize quite how different living in a place was from simply visiting or vacationing there until I did. Argentina and I have had a lot of ups and downs. Some days I hated it here and I just wanted to go home, while other days I was in complete amazement at how wonderful it was here. Well though I still have about 6 weeks left I've decided to make my decision on Argentina and the truth is I love it.<br />
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I think the relationship you develop with your new country of residency is very similar to the relationship you have with your family members. You love them. But sometimes you just can't stand them. In the end though you always know in your heart that they are special to you. So in light this I decided to share with you what I love about Argentina and will dearly miss when I'm back home in the USA. </div>
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5. Balconies Everywhere!</div>
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So this is probably a strange thing to love, but I love it anyway. Every apartment has balconies and many people put flowers and plants on them. When it comes time to water them people don't really have much regard for others that have to walk below them. This leads to the occasionally thinking a rain cloud has happened just over you. So it's important to walk closer to the building to avoid dripping from the edge of the balcony. </div>
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I think I love this because it's just so unexpected and comical. It startles me from my thoughts and usually makes me laugh. I guess it's just a part of city life but I've grown to kind of like it. </div>
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4. Dog Walkers</div>
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The dog walkers are the most entertaining thing I think I've ever seen. Usually, they are walking between 10 and 20 dogs at a time of all different sizes. Why so many people living in a city choose to buy large dogs I will never know. The best though is when they run into another dog walker and it's just a chaotic mix of a million dogs barking at each other and tangling in each others leashes. I think someday I would like to do that job just for how hilarious I would look. </div>
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3. Tea Time</div>
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At first I totally hated having to wait for dinner till 9PM. Well I still kind of do because I'm starving by then! But tea time makes it so much better. Between 5-7PM everyone goes to take tea with each other either in their houses or the cafes and just catch up on their day and life. </div>
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What a lovely practice! Socializing and making time for friends is very important in Argentina culture and I think it's just a wonderful thing that I wish happened more frequently in the US. </div>
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2. Dulce de Leche</div>
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What can I say about Dulce de Leche that hasn't already been said? Basically it's the most delicious substance ever. It combines my love of candy, carmel, and spreading those things on food all into one fantastic treat. I'm bringing loads of this home and I'll be happy to share! Until I get down to my last jar of course... </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Heaven on a spoon.</td></tr>
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1. The Passion </div>
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My most favorite thing though would have to be the passion of the Portenos. They are seriously so passionate about everything they do. Of course futbol is a very big deal in their culture but it's not the only thing they get heated about. Ask anyone about Evita Peron, the current President Kristina Krichner, or Sarmiento/Rosas and they will give you their opinion like it they were personally there for whatever happened. </div>
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In the US we are very passionate about our country, our holidays, and yes we get excited or upset about our politicians. But it doesn't come close to the way Argentine people feel. There are Presidents and politicians I very, very much dislike (here's looking at you Todd Akin). But regardless of how much I dislike them I would never wish ill will on them because at the end of the day they're people and it's just politics. I don't think the same can be said here in Argentina. A friend of mine actually heard a Porteno say that he was glad Eva died of cancer. That's pretty crazy to say! Especially about a political figure that wasn't even alive at the same time as him. Argentines are great people, they just get very into what they feel. </div>
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So there you have it. My favorite things about Argentina that I don't feel like I'll find, in quite the same way anywhere else in the world. Of my love/hate relationship with Argentina I've finally decided on love. </div>
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Besos,</div>
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Hayley</div>
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7152771563514796493.post-3722286492305294102013-09-23T15:32:00.000-05:002015-03-02T15:54:22.766-06:00Let's talk about my host family.<br />
After nearly 2 and a half months living here I can now say that it truly feels like home. Everything that once nearly brought me to tears with frustration (please take note that I'm just a crier in general) like ordering or asking directions has now become simple. In fact I think I've become more comfortable doing things alone and asking for help here than I ever was in US. Having a wonderful family also helps that immensely.<br />
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I know I say this all the time but I just can't talk enough about how great my host family is to me. I really, truly feel like I am a member of the family not just a student they are taking care of in exchange for compensation. We laugh at dinner when I accidentally say a dirty because of my miss pronouncations. We get very intense about what's happening in our soap operas, which I vaguely understand now!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">From our music videos!</td></tr>
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And my host sisters come to my room all the time wanting to make music videos and watch movies. When it's rainy out we curl up with blankets and popcorn and have a Chucky marathon. My youngest sister, Paloma wraps herself around my arm and asked every 2 minutes. <i>Ahora? Ahora? </i>Maybe I'm not doing studying abroad the right way because I don't spend all my days going out and seeing new things and partying at the<i> boliches</i>. But for me, having a family I can call my own in Argentina is something that will stick with me for a lifetime. These are the kinds of people that years down the road I imagine I'll still be talking to and that will bring me back to Argentina again to visit them. They're more than a host family, they're my family and I'm already dreading having to leave them so much.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">We can do this ALL DAY</td></tr>
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I can't wait to see my own family and sometimes seeing how happy the girls are when their dad gets home from a trip gives me a pang of wanting to see my own dad. But the way that I am hugged and treated just like a daughter or a sister makes the whole experience so much better and easier.<br />
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It would be pretty easy to treat your host family as simply a home to stay in while you're on your out of the country adventure. But I think it's a great opportunity to add new people to your list of family. I can say that about not only my Argentine padres and hermanas, but also my Argentine grandparents that I love.<br />
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While it's not the easiest thing in the world, really trying to have a connection with your host family can be life changing and take your experience to a whole new level. Instead of staying in your room sit in the kitchen or living room or where ever they gather. Help out around the house, by doing the dishes in the sink when you have a minute or helping with clean-up even when you aren't asked. Your willingness to be a full member of the family won't go unnoticed or unappreciated.<br />
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But I think the most important key is to ask questions and listen. They're probably a host family because they want to share their culture with you. Give them an opportunity to do so! I know more about my host parents history, views, and what's going on in their lives than I do most other people. They're the best tools for learning you have so don't waste it.<br />
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I apologize for once again going on a giant rant about my family but they're just soooo wonderful and they have made a huge impact on my experience here!<br />
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Besos,<br />
Hayley<br />
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HayleyGracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02280620486489879420noreply@blogger.com0