#sincerelybillie

[pastelpressmachine]

Plan B offers a refreshing alternative to typical teen comedies

I’ve never watched a teen comedy on a streaming service without seeing a trailer first, being messaged a recommendation, or seeing mixed reviews on Twitter. This is especially true in the few cases with South Asian female leads, and after a handful of disappointing casting choices and plot points, I don’t usually have high hopes in the instances I do see someone who looks like me playing the main character.

The Indian Girl is usually highly academically driven, makes self-deprecating jokes about her body hair, and a socially awkward virgin with her eyes set on the (nearly) unattainable athletic, popular white boy. Whether it’s been the writing of Mindy Kaling with The Mindy Project (2012-2015) or Never Have I Ever (2020 - present), Natalie Krinsky’s The Broken Hearts Gallery (2020), you can never have all three:

- a central romance between two South Asian characters

- a South Asian female lead

- the brown woman not being her own constant punchline

I stumbled across Plan B (2021), which is directed by Natalie Morales from a screenplay written by Parthian Srinivasan and Joshua Levy, while mindlessly scrolling Hulu with my partner at the time, who — and I am aware of the hypocrisy — is a white man. Social distancing mandates had caused me to stay home more than ever and entertain shows and movies I hadn’t never caught onto or heard of. I no longer had the excuse of work/grad school because we were off for the summer or other plans to keep me away from what I presumed I would not enjoy. I’m definitely known in my social and even academic/professional circles as a vocational, outspoken media critic (film degree needed to go somewhere), particularly in regards to anything that attempts to champion representation for Indian women and/or queer folks.

“Ugh, this is probably going to be about a nerdy Indian girl who wants to ‘lose her virginity’ to a generic white boy,” I remember muttering, not even clicking to see the trailer or Wikipedia’ing the entire cast as I often do when I think I recognize someone from somewhere. (Hunter was the only vaguely familiar face; he is played by Michael Provost, who is known for playing Brick Armstrong in Netflix’s 2018-2019 series Insatiable, another show I decided to delve into during the pandemic.)

Again, I am aware that I myself carry biases and am constantly working through my own self-criticism as the highly academically driven Indian girl who “lost her virginity” to a white boy, too. I think that is part of my frustration with media that reinforces my own unoriginality and susceptibility to the most common narrative about people like me that could ever be made available to the masses.

My partner headed home for the night, and I ended up watching Plan B anyways while waiting for the text that he had arrived back at his place. This got me through more than half the film in the meantime. Call it a desire to chase my confirmation bias, cure my boredom, or maybe even indulge in a brief moment of open-mindedness and giving the movie a chance. Sometimes, we just click on something to help us pass the time, don’t we?

The movie starts as many teen flicks do, with an alternating montage sequence of our main character, Sunny (played by Kuhoo Verma) getting ready for the school day, contrasted by the routine of her best friend, Lupe (played by Victoria Moroles), the rebellious stoner type who begins vaping upon waking up. The dollhouse-like interior of Sunny’s bedroom is where she turns her stuffed elephant’s eyes away as she starts masturbating to an image of a naked person in her biology textbook, the closest she gets to a penis (until later that night). This scene alone probably should’ve been a sign that the nerdy virgin trope is being exaggerated, and this film is being ironic, but my past viewership of such narratives and depictions made it take me a bit longer to realize Plan B is actually a parody of everything I love to hate about these kinds of movies. And it did it so well, it seemed sincere. Which makes everything even funnier.

Religious, conservative parents who leave little room for independence, mistakes, or creative expression. Check. This will fuel the fire, the secrecy, the mayhem that is going to ensue to keep whatever the secret is.

Establishing shots of a small, boring town that cannot contain their personalities or desires. Check. check.

Solo slumber parties with the only other friend you have who also indulges your nerdy hobbies, like anime and thousand-piece puzzles. Okay. Slumber party becomes a “rager” to capture the attention of the love interest while Sunny’s mom is conveniently out of town. Nothing new here.

But I was ignoring, in my own hunt for righteousness, that Sunny and Lupe are witty, unconcerned with popularity, and content in each other’s company. There are love interests, sure, but these girls aren’t pining for school wide validation, trying to win prom queen, or victims of a cruel bet. Megan and Emma are the popular girls (thin, white blondes who display their sexuality more explicitly to contrast the inexperienced Sunny) who get barely any screen time, with very little dialogue. Looking back, that might be one of the top three things I appreciate about Plan B. It didn’t entertain the idea that Sunny or Lupe wanted to be Megan or Emma, or that the other girls were necessarily the enemy.

Our dynamic duo is just angsty and horny, in a way that is honest and humorous without being crass or a regurgitation of every other portrayal of a sexually frustrated main character who will do whatever it takes to get the guy. In this story, the main character is driven by the will to do whatever it takes to not be pregnant, which will be more devastating for her than graduating as a virgin.

Lupe’s astute observations, snappy comebacks, and apathy for the opinions or well-being of anyone but her best friend complements Sunny’s anxious demeanor well. At one point, she counters Sunny’s description of her crush Hunter as “an athletic librarian” with the remark that wearing a cardigan while playing hockey actually just gives off “major guidance counselor vibes”. Lupe’s presence and commentary is not only a comedic foil to Sunny, but throughout the film, we see how she does not sacrifice her independent thoughts and desires to serve Sunny’s story, and Lupe herself gets a proper plot line that is explored meaningfully while the night goes on.

Like I said, it’s nice to not see screen time dominated by the forgettable popular girls (I had to Google the character list, that’s how little they are mentioned). I think the most memorable interaction was when one of the girls, Megan, grabs Hunter’s hockey stick euphemistically and comments how it’s dry(?) and proceeds to run her tongue upside it, as Hunter advises, “I definitely wouldn’t lick it.”

Some other classic traits of the teen comedy you may be able to spot are well distributed throughout the scenes in the high school and podunk small town places Sunny and Lupe that head to in their wild goose chase for a Plan B pill or the generous doors of Planned Parenthood.

The characters themselves often make jabs at many of the tropes that they represent themselves, reminiscent of the meta-comedic and punchy writing of Mean Girls (2004). There’s even a random line reminiscent of the tampon/pad joke about heavy flows, but I don’t know if that parallel was intentional. I also never expected to talk about that movie like it’s historical cinema. Oof.

Even socially uncoordinated and easily flustered Sunny provides a lot of snappy one-liners that land as criticisms of how teenage/Indian girls are perceived and not as conformity. And Kuhoo’s comedic timing and facial expressions — notably the entire time her character is accidentally high — are some definite highlights. Sunny is an underdog I was actually rooting for, and not because you’re supposed to even when the character is unlikeable. Sunny is likeable, and when we really only have the messy Mindy Lahiri or Devi Vishwakumar as examples, it was nice to want things to work out for her for reasons other than “Oh, finally an Indian girl as the lead! I have to like her no matter what!” Sometimes, I feel hesitant to be as critical of the few media representations I have because I don’t want to come across like I haven’t worked on my internalized racism or misogyny; I have and of course I still am. At the same time, there are productions in which the few South Asian characters I get to see are very difficult to defend, even if they are written as quirky, understandably flawed, or a “hot mess”.

Plan B makes room, without negotiating, for other important parts of teenagehood. At the root of the story is the bond between two best friends who treat each other’s company as what will make high school, heartache, an unexpected pregnancy, angry parents all survivable. Sunny and Lupe’s friendship is a love story in itself, as they show audience members all you really need is that one best friend at a party, on a road trip, through all the chaos of your life, as the trusted keeper of your secrets.

Similar to Never Have I Ever’s Devi and other teen movies, Sunny also participates in the omission of truth about who, if anyone, she loses her virginity to. Hunter isn’t concerned with public image or aligns with the dumb jock stereotype, instead offering a more surprising charm that even Sunny isn’t aware of at first. It is worth noting how much focus is placed on giving dimension to side characters in this movie, even if how they act doesn’t change the course of the plot overall.

I also appreciate the mention of the Indian Mafia, which, if you don’t already know what it is, you will find out after watching. And despite Lupe’s reassurance and this movie being fiction, it is very much real.

And so is the problematic “conscience clause”, mentioned early on as an obstacle to Sunny’s body autonomy. Important reminders of the additional barriers that young women of colour face in seeking reproductive healthcare in this country can be found throughout the mayhem that the two friends have to endure. At the same time, the movie also makes space for a low brow line in which Sunny complains that it will take 69 hours to get to the nearest Planned Parenthood.

Without denying or pigeon-holing the experiences of closeted queer teens, Plan B also reminds viewers that there are places throughout the country where kids do not feel safe to be themselves and do find solace, support, and love in online communities.

I found both Kuhoo Verma’s and Victoria Moroles’ individual portrayals of 17-year-olds juggling various aspects of their identities and their dynamic together as breakout performances, and I look forward to seeing what else they star in.

The pacing of the film is naturally aided by the race against the clock when it comes to the efficacy of retrieving and taking the morning after pill, but there is a fun rhythm that balances coincidence, pleasant surprises, and complete shock that challenged everything I thought I was going to see by the time I got to the middle of the movie. Often, there is a lazy montage to indicate the passage of time and the viewer has the responsibility of filling in the plot with an understanding that relationships have developed, changed, or fizzled out. But Plan B keeps you comfortably engaged, and by the time my partner texted me that he was home, I happily accepted that I actually had no idea what was going to happen in this movie and that it had grown on me. I was enjoying the ride that Sunny and Lupe’s overnight misadventures were taking me on as an amused bystander, and that wasn’t a feeling I had gotten from anything aimed at a young adult audience in awhile.

It even captures nuanced parts of being a teenager of color in a small, predominantly white town, like the gentle, fluttery feeling of finally getting to spend time with someone who helps you peel back so many layers, the unexpected blending of friend groups, innocent misinterpretations, and the underestimation of the love of parents who do try to sustain tradition but still know how to unconditionally love and support their children. This is especially important to see in 2021.

I appreciate the soft, mundane but vulnerable moments where the characters grow closer. There doesn’t need to be a massive blow out or tear that needs mending - though those moments do occur - for relationships to progress, and it takes good writing to not have to rely on “this only happens in movies” moments. People become friends and sometimes more in the regular, everyday moments during conversations, meals, or in chilly parking lots in South Dakota of all places.

In hindsight, I am glad I didn’t watch the trailer for Plan B, even if it likely would have meant I would have picked up on what was ironically or unironically included in the story. Because it meant that I got to enjoy the movie as a chaotic buddy comedy (Verma and Moroles are seriously hilarious together) and remove the lens of criticizing just how Indian and queer and feminist based on previous disappointments it could be. I wasn’t even watching it with the intention to write a review after, which would otherwise automatically apply the critical lens and often ruins my own viewing experience because I’m mentally picking the movie or show apart.

I’m writing this review mostly to say I liked having my skepticism put in check. Scattered across various stereotypical plot points were instances that made me appreciate that people are still making these types of movies, a genre I was hoping would die out if it was going to keep giving us the same formula.

Because that means there are going to be movies like Plan B, which take a different route.

[sincerelybillie]

If you’re a poor, broke, or struggling young person or just too well off to even know what that is like, if you don’t like talking economics because it’s “boring” or “complicated”, this video is for you!

I polled Instagram a month ago about what they wanted to learn more about and here’s what they picked: how to understand the impending recession that will impact the everyday American.

[pablosputa]

Stop by Emm Roy

[canadianwithcats]

how bad does getting a nose piercing hurt in your opinion? because i really want one but i heard one of your eyes starts randomly twitching and watering or that it's a really annoying kind of pain and i'm just like ok but is it worth it?

I know it's unhelpful but I think it's really different for everyone. Because so many people say it doesn't hurt at all (I don't know if they're saying it to seem all tough), some people say it's just a pinch. But for me it was excruciating. :P

[gweneveree-blog-blog]

you're cool. this is not sarcasm.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a few days. I don't know why Tumblr didn't tell me about it sooner, but hey, thanks!!

[pastelpressmachine]

Never Have I Ever Season 2 is chaotic, and not in a fun way

It was announced earlier this month that Netflix’s Never Have I Ever just got renewed for a third season, which reminded me I never compiled my notes on season two. I guess I wasn’t really even in a rush because how do you even begin to organize writing a review for a show as disorganized as this one. With its mostly flat writing and directionless character development, if you could even call it, I kept waiting for the series to make sense. At least enough to determine if it was better or worse than Season 1, which I also reviewed and can be read here.

Season 2 left me feeling confused and wondering why it even existed as the plot barely moved forward despite all of the hype surrounding the renewal of the series, which originally aired just over a year ago in 2020.

The following are my thoughts on each sloppy and ultimately narratively wasteful episode.

Episode 1:

If it wasn’t obvious, and even though it has been stated that this show is apparently based off Mindy Kaling’s high school experience, it definitely comes across more like a fantasy, a daydream, a severely embellished representation. I also started to notice that the character of Devi Vishwakumar has similar mannerisms to another one of Mindy Kaling’s characters, Mindy Lahiri, played by herself in The Mindy Project. Whether Devi is directed to be or inspired by a young Mindy Kaling/Lahiri is uncertain, but the similarity in humor, demeanor, self-obsession, and (white) boy-craziness syncs up.

The usual cringiness has returned with Indian stereotypes (the mom being cheap is severely overdone) fan fiction vibes, horrible styling, and DIsney Channel style over-acting, particularly Ramona Young’s portrayal of Eleanor Wong, which is such an effective caricature of the high school theatre kid that it gives me secondhand embarrassment for the actress having to play this person. Similarly, Mr. Shapiro, the overly woke history teacher, continues to present himself as a walking meme of the American Neoliberal, from the pink pussy hat to the “If you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention” shirt.

The confusion begins fairly quickly into the season. Why would Paxton ever be nervous and at a loss for words in front of Devi’s house, where he has waited for hours, if there were other more intimate moments in Season 1 that may have implied he had feelings for Devi? Why do the extras who play sophomores in high school look 30+ years old? The casting team can clearly find better choices if they cast 30-year-old Darren Barnet to play 16-year-old Paxton Hall-Yoshida. Wasn’t Devi’s self-centeredness the cause of nearly losing her friends in Season 1? Why is it being re-used as a central conflict immediately into Season 2? I’m pretty sure she even recycles the line when her friends, Fabiola and Eleanor, are talking, “Guys, who cares? I have bigger news.” I don’t expect major growth from a 15-year-old with a lot of baggage overnight, which is the time frame between the two seasons, but Devi is so far from being an endearing main character, that I was both surprised and disappointed that the writers kept giving this annoying trait of hers so much focus.

There were some noteworthy exceptions to my unsurprising grumpiness after watching this episode. I appreciate tennis legend John McEnroe’s return as Devi’s sardonic narrator; I think he has a great voice for it. Trent Harrison, played by Benjamin Norris, is probably the only source of actual, well-timed comedy, and Ben Gross, played by Jaren Lewison, is likable despite the things that make him pretentious and annoying. It seems like the female creators of the show know how to write funny white, often times Jewish men and almost nothing else.

Some new characters also join the cast to shake life up a little for Devi’s mom, Nalini (played by Poorna Jagannathan) and her cousin, Kamala (played by Richa Moorjani). We get Common, a rival dermatologist who gets on Nalini’s nerves, and Evan, the head research assistant at Caltech who subjects Kamala to sexism with his chauvinistic tone and tasks. Kamala’s boyfriend, Prashant, who is introduced in Season 1, offers advice to Kamala about how to navigate Evan’s unfair treatment, and his supportive nature reveals itself to be something else as the season goes on. I actually found this to be interesting and worth following because Prashant represents how Indian immigrants, particularly women, are expected to respond to discrimination, in order to move forward in the professional world.

Episode 2:

Relying on the age-old triple and laziest plot device in teen movies, this episode entails Devi throwing a party while her mom is out of town. A comment is made by one of the popular mean girls that takes note of how yellow and strange Devi’s house is, and it made me think about how practically all Western fictional media needs to throw a turmeric filter over scenes where the audience absolutely needs to know that Indians live in this world. Because there is no other way to show that, apparently.

I should say, though, if I haven’t before, that the therapist is probably one of the best written characters. She drops a lot of wisdom and acts as the voice of reason, which is a given with her role and relationship to Devi.

Episode 3:

Paxton is finally given some dimension, though this episode acts as a filler more than anything, with the plot stagnating (and this is not the first time the plot does that). He is rightfully upset about what happens with Stanford (I’m doing my best to avoid spoilers, but be warned) and being cheated on by the weirdest girl he ever liked with a nerd. On top of that, we finally see the impact of everyone around Paxton having low expectations for him. From there, the show starts approaching more realistic aspects of being in high school demonstrated by Paxton’s responses to his test/performance anxiety.

Episode 4:

This episode is dedicated to Devi attempting to smooth things over with Paxton and then Ben, something she does over and over and over again in this season. A refreshing new character is introduced in the form of Aneesa Qureshi, a transfer student at Sherman Oaks High. She is confident, charismatic, and kind. One of my favourite lines in the show appears in this episode, as Devi realizes she is not disliked because of casual racism. It’s because she does not possess likeable traits. “This new kid is proving she’s objectively lame”.

Something important begins to be explored here, and that is the subconscious competition that Indian girls, particularly in their teen years, are entered in, one that pits them against anyone smarter, thinner, or conventionally prettier than them. I’m actually really glad this is shown, the wild insecurity that takes over that only prevents Devi from making a cool new friend and further isolates herself from her culture because she thinks that’s what will make her gain social capital. That is a very real flaming hoop South Asian girls are expected to jump through by perceiving each other as threats and not companions with shared experiences or backgrounds. Other brown girls can only be your frenemy, at best.

Shapiro mixing up the only two Indian students was meant to be funny, but if you’re Indian, you know how much it actually stings that you are deemed so insignificant, so much of a monolith that your name being botched is to be expected. Some of the most self aware and possibly self referential Mindy Kaling writing occurs in a conversation between Devi and Eleanor regarding Devi’s “self-hating Indian vibes”. She has no friends who are Indian, and feels like she can call out Eleanor for not having Chinese friends, but she is so self absorbed that she does not even know how false that statement is.

Moving on to some of the supporting male characters, another new character is introduced, Mannish Kulkarni, Devi’s favourite teacher played by Utkarsh Ambudkhar. You may have seen him in Pitch Perfect, Brittany Runs a Marathon, and The Broken Hearts Gallery. He has also played Mindy Lahiri’s younger brother in The Mindy Project. He is deemed the “cool” teacher, but I think he just lacks boundaries and swears too often in front of students. He even flirts with Kamala in front of Devi when she drops off her lunch, and there is some foreshadowing that he might pose a threat to her relationship with Prashant.

And Prashant is revealing some red flags as he continues to make excuses for misogynistic men in the workplace and encourages Kamala to keep her head down, which is typical Indian male thinking. Don’t make a fuss, don’t appear difficult to work with. All that nonsense packaged as politeness and concern.

And lastly, there’s Malcolm. He’s very unlikeable. I would 100% endorse bullying him. I’m Team Oliver and find Eleanor to be unnecessarily mean to him and she loses major points (not that she had a whole lot to begin with) for her actions regarding Oliver and Malcolm.

Episode 5:

The messiness is building, and my review/notes will reflect that because I begin to lose track of and interest in the plot. Devi’s alarming approaches to stress reveal how trauma can demand to be acknowledged in a psychosomatic, physiological ways. Grief and resentment can come out in ugly ways, and negative feelings are not harmless, even when not intentionally acted upon. It was a good lesson to include in the season, but every time I find a nugget of goodness, something worse squashes its impact.

I’m talking about the completely unnecessary shirtless woodworking scene that really just makes me wonder if the writers of the show share the traits of pedophiles or predators. Why are we sexualizing a 16 year old boy so intensely? And why do you think it’s okay because you cast a man twice that age to portray him? Would you have done that if this was an age-appropriate casting?

And the extremely contrived Gen Z dialogue about criticisms regarding patriarchy, heteronormativity, and feminism makes me think the writers just took buzz words from a few TikToks, Tweets, and dare I say, even Tumblr posts and thought, “Yeah, this is how modern teenagers talk.” It’s not. Maybe that was satire, but the writing is generally so bad, it’s difficult to tell when it’s ironic.

Episode 6:

I was struggling so hard to make it past halfway through the season. Devi keeps revealing herself as an increasingly horrible person and main character. There is no redemption arc for this character, and at this point, if there is, she is making it less likely or deserved. I don’t think I have ever felt more disappointed in a main character before.

I’m beginning to think it would’ve made more sense to format this review in the form of hits and misses. I guess I can start that here with the midpoint of the season.

Hits

- seeing how seriously Kamala takes her career and education; the lengths she goes to in order to ensure she gets proper credit when getting published in an academic journal (which is a big deal) is warranted, and I am glad we see her stand up to Evan’s condescension and sexism

- trans casting! (Jasmine Davis plays Nalini’s assistant nurse and Alexandra Billings plays the college counselor, Ms. Warren)

- Nalini’s outfits are fire

- Sasha, Eve’s snarky queer Black friend who is critical of Fabiola (and deserved more screen time than any recurring character)

- the rage issues explored in a lead that is such a flawed underdog is new and bold but not well executed with Devi

Misses

- Jonah’s character is essentially a tacky gossipy gay Twitter account, and I’m really sad he wasn’t developed beyond such a caricature

- Aneesa’s background story of her disorder prompting a confession that is mostly excuses and justifications, as Devi kicks off another leg of her massive apology tour which got boring in Season 1

One of my favourite scenes was actually when Devi got suspended and her wretched behaviour actually earns her consequences (but she still continues to be shitty after that and learns next to nothing. This girl is exhausting.)

Episode 7:

The styling and dialogue is so bad that actors who actually are 19-22 come across like cringey 35+ year olds. I mean, the fact that “no doy” is said in earnest more than once...come on.

Episode 8:

Yikes, Malcolm is red flag after red flag, exemplifying unhealthy controlling teen relationships.

Again, Sasha should have had more screen time.

And Paxton says to Devi, summarizing the show really, “Seems like you’re in a fight with lots of people.”

My review is devolving...I’m struggling to get to the finish line. I don’t even want to do complete sentences anymore, y’all.

Episode 9:

- is the vishwakumar house really just a world market pop up because that’s what it looks like

- manipulative malcolm, projection - he seriously sucks

- prashant presenting himself as unsupportive passive keep your head down kind of indian boooooo

- nice to delve into paxton’s heritage and the japanese internment camps of ww2

- does capture the messiness of grief both from a mom trying to keep it together and a teenager who has emotional flares shooting out of her in every direction

- shutting down because everyone thinks she’s crazy would’ve been interesting to explore more

- ojichan internment camp

- dr. ryan <333

- nirmala’s response to nalini dating came as a shocker, i would lose it too

- this truly is fiction if it’s raining that hard in sherman oaks

- sneaking in through the window, soaking wet - more horny writing

- i understand the connection that paxton has to devi for making him feel empowered and capable - the back and forth of this couple is not worth keeping up with

- this must be what made “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals pop up everywhere

Episode 10:

- mixed messages from paxton, not exciting enough to follow

- devi continues to cut off everything her friends are occupied with her own boy bullshit

- i guess it is a sign of growth to not settle for being a sneaky link

- but if riverdale and its cringey writing can go on for as long as it did, why am i being so hard on never have i ever

- but maybe i don’t want to measure this by the same shitty bar

- jonah’s lines “i’m ubiquitous, henny” and “sister”...appropriation of AAVE from another white gay is a big no from me

- “my hearing aids have been specifically tuned to eavesdrop” is a funny line though

I don’t recommend it. Usually, I can power through a show. I can write something more in depth and check my own biases, which I did try to do, but Season 2 was painful and bad. Do I want to be hopeful about Season 3? Naively, yeah. Am I willing to trudge through another ten episodes of nonsense and cyclical characterization...no.

[sincerelybillie]

My name is Jaswin “Billie” Sangha, and to be honest, I hesitated to apply for Senior Class Speaker because I came to Marymount Manhattan College in the fall of 2017 as a transfer student, and I didn’t know if I could accurately speak to the experience of the Class of 2019. But with the encouragement of the same peers, faculty, and staff who have made these past couple of years as meaningful as four years would’ve been, I realized I can speak to it. Because Marymount quickly became my home, and it has inspired, frustrated, welcomed, challenged, and shaped me in all the ways a home does, in all the ways a diverse, dynamic family does.

Marymount has a contagious energy that could only exist at a small school full of less than 2,000 young people - but young, vibrant people. You are the folks who have made this place simultaneously feel like a musical, a short film, a case study, an open forum, a science experiment, a bully pulpit, a long-running television series renewed each season with a cast more bright-eyed than the previous.  

It is a glowing orb on the otherwise quiet Upper East Side with its neutral colour palettes, small dogs, and residents who have had to get used to people running from Daily Dance back to school, people with wild hair and wilder dreams who are finally living in a society where being different won’t stop them from getting a job, people I’m going to see in magazines and in public office and on posters.

As a transfer student, I became very observant because I wanted to understand this place, its dynamics and inner workings, and belong here as quickly as possible.

I saw you scoffing when the Carson Hall elevator just closed and was headed up without you, and I saw you muster up the energy to dart up the stairs, manage to get to the cafe and get food, and still have about 45 seconds to spare before class started. I saw you turn the library into a rehearsal space, and despite the fact that that is not what it is for, I support you in your acting and singing endeavours. I heard some of you yell your opinions across the Commons, and I noticed some of you doing your work with headphones in while those opinions were yelled across the Commons. I saw people host events, present their hard work, perform their hearts out, and play football against President Kerry Walk, both setting precedents and maintaining traditions. And I was in awe, I wanted in on it, I wanted to support you, I wanted to be someone who felt that love, that belief in the power of young people, that bustling energy that feels like caffeine and stardust. I wanted to keep it going, pass it on, and watch it thrive.

I saw your discipline and passion. I saw you greet your peers like you hadn’t seen them in years, when it had definitely only been a weekend. I saw professors treat their students like their maniacal little mentees and pupils who just need a little guidance and a bolstered resume. I heard staff throughout the school scolding you for being unprepared for the mood swings of New York weather when you seriously tried to leave without an umbrella or coat, and I saw you responding with the appreciation that only comes from people who share a bond that can only exist in our small, special corner of New York City.

I also saw us being seen and pushed as adults capable of running our own events, paving our own pathways, and being given the spaces to be vulnerable, make mistakes, make change - and most importantly, because this is at the end of the day, semester and school year, an educational institution - learn.

I want to leave us with a message that I hope serves as the capstone on the time we’ve spent at Marymount and something you can take with you in your post-grad life. It is a quote by the writer Tom Robbins and someone who reminds me of the eclectic energy that is glowing in this room today. “All you can do in this life is gather about you your integrity, your imagination, and your individuality. And with these, ever about you, out front and in sharp focus, you leap into the dance of experience.” Marymount has demanded that of us and we have delivered. And now, the world will be excited to see what we do with it, and the Wikipedia page for Marymount will probably list some of the people in this room as honourable alumni someday. I look forward to it. When I refresh that page, I will remember this moment.

And yes, I have no intention of leaving out the fact that our mascot is a griffin, which is a mythological creature made from two different animals. And despite the fact that a griffin does not actually exist, our spirit is very much real - and similarly, very much derived from multiple identities combining us into something magnificent, original, and distinct. Like a Griffin.

I hope we continue to exude our trademark energy of being critical thinkers, creative souls, and community-oriented leaders. I hope our families and employers and partners and friends and the person living next to you on your four story walk up, will look at our poise, professionalism, and personalities as aspects of ourselves that got chiseled into shape at Marymount Manhattan College.

And maybe I’m not hoping for it at all. Maybe I’m looking at all of us right now and I already know, from my short time here, that it is going to happen. Because we are Griffins. We are the Class of 2019.

Congratulations, good job and good luck.

[sincerelybillie]

Longer Than Most Marriages

That’s what I hear the most. About how long this has lasted. And as if marriage hasn’t come up and pregnancy scares haven’t manifested into something that forced me to become a better long-term planner than someone with depression can sometimes even be. I think I’ve had my one Big Love. I realize it more in moments of traumatic flashbacks and fresher, newer, more recent abuse. But I definitely knew it was a Big Love when I first felt it, as a teenager turning everything into poetry and playlists. Though that girl has barely changed.

Once I had been treated bad, then good, it made me feel the pain of having been treated bad in a different way. Even if I was already grieving the years I lost and unraveling the twisted ideas planted in my young brain that hardened me into a clay pot that breaks much easier than it was built and can’t grow anything that doesn’t die quickly... the brain that had my processed good, healthy love was also processing your sadness and resentment that I didn’t get it sooner. 

Having it bad isn’t a prerequisite to deserve good. It is not the only thing that can teach us to appreciate or nurture someone and the love you share with them, as if some polar opposite experience has to be the singular source of perspective. You’re justifying your own hell at that point. 

What I learn every year initially makes me deeply uncomfortable, and starts with a series of triggers that I have to muddle through (tightness in my throat, tears pouring down my face, soaking my shirt, and swelling my eyes, and genuinely believing the only way out of this situation and feeling is killing myself).

On the other side of that horrific tunnel, I have always made it out alive, more empathetic, and more reasonable. Better, kinder, more useful, more honest. I still get Bad Brain. I still lose my temper. I still have nightmares and panic attacks. And I still haven’t quite figured out how to completely cut off the people who continue to invalidate, gaslight, and abuse me, and then tell me I am playing victim. 

I’m not playing. It’s not a role I claim or pretend to be. It was imposed on me, assigned, without consent or remorse or accountability. I know I am a victim because I know they are perpetrators and I know what they have done to me. The fact that they have been victims and experienced trauma themselves does not give them a pass. Statistically, it gives them motive and/or mental health disorders. It also does not impress me if they endured more and didn’t “complain” as much as I am by talking about it as much as I do (which still isn’t very much and is still relatively ambiguous for safety reasons). 

They won’t get therapy, they won’t tell people the truth, and they threaten me if I discuss anything that might link them to the events that have harmed me physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, psychologically and sexually. I have little control over their response, values, or sense of humanity.

I also know I am a survivor. Some days, I don’t feel like that because I am still keeping secrets, I still live in fear in certain spaces, and I still haven’t sought legal action against the crimes committed against me by multiple people. I’m just this person who has been set off fire, had my entire body damaged inside and out, and continues to walk around and live life. That’s supposed to be badass, maybe. But sometimes, it’s frustrating and depressing to have become that charred, scarred thing. Even if people do praise you for being brave or strong. I didn’t want to be known as those things, while keeping their causes a secret. I didn’t want that secret to be the price I paid to become those things, especially became I became other less admirable things, too. And the price came with interest. 

Whether I talk about it today, have been slowly talking about it in a little more detail over time, or whether I mention it in 20 years, I know I will be met with skepticism, shame, or disrespect, more so than I have received it now. It has discouraged me and hurt me and made me want to not even bother, stop trying before even starting to seek justice.

 I can’t put everyone who’s done something heinous to me behind bars or in the ground because I am not the one who serves justice, acts on my rage violently, or honestly has financial resources or time to focus on that person or person(s) enough. I don’t know what justice or reparations would even look like because I have gotten so used to navigating the world with the hand I was dealt, or creating physical distance from that hand as my only escape/solution because the law or the culture wasn’t designed for me to get much else if I was even lucky enough to get to leave.

The kindest thing I did for myself was invest in a relationship that was good for me, in a person who was good to me, and take care of it as a friendship and relationship for over ten years. I consider art to be so important in my healing too, but this person and relationship allowed me to blossom as a writer and as an artist, and often provided seemingly endless inspiration. Positive inspiration, as I didn’t have to draw from my hurt or reveal to people in moments of vulnerability or over sharing - whichever it was at the time - that I have had my mind, body, and spirit rattled by intense, unforgettable trauma. And look, I can do something creative with that trauma and sell my sadness. 

Today, I am so much more affirmative in both my relationships with people and in my art. I celebrate more than I mourn, which wasn’t happening before. It’s like going on a writer’s retreat in a jumpy castle. Or doing something as simple but significant as sending people you care about cards just because you want to, as opposed to being in a prison and only using your creative passions for escapism so you didn’t go crazy or kill yourself.

I was in very dangerous, toxic, and regrettable environments and relationships before and even after (for familiarity) the one I shared that I can actually be proud of and am deeply fond of. I had to acknowledge how cruel and ugly I had become because of what I learned and picked up and accepted as the way I was going to handle and survive relationships. 

But I got to unravel, cry, and grow up in a safe and healthy space to do so, with someone who was patient and compassionate and taught me an unmatched level of unconditional love. I did not take it for granted, knowing they deserved the best from me too and weren’t in service to my growth just because I was some fucked up thing they ended up loving somehow (though I was confused, self sabotaged, and hurt them in the beginning). It wasn’t their choice to like or love me, but it was their choice to stay, and I wanted to honour that. 

I wanted to earn and maintain what I had been so lucky to have found and been given, and even when we weren’t together, I wanted to be good for the sake of being good.

I wouldn’t say this means I won’t fall in love with anyone ever again because it will be and has been different and meaningful in other ways to love others and enter a variety of platonic, romantic, and sexual relationships from my teens to my mid 20’s. I had to be careful not to assign so much significance to the healthiest, best thing I had ever had (so far, at the time) that I became close minded to anyone or anything else. 

I do, however, stand by the sentiment of knowing I have had my one Big Love. Maybe if you check back in a year from now, I will have experienced something even more transformational and radically uplifting. I haven’t said that in the ten years I am talking about so it seems unlikely based off history, but I’m still open to the possibility. 

I just think about people who talk about all the heartaches it takes to find the one or even the divorces that happen before someone meets their soulmate, and how I have mixed feelings about monogamy, and I am only 24, and I took what, like one sociology class on marriage and family? And I have gained so much more language and understanding about what I want and who I am, so really, what the hell ultimate conclusion could I possibly come to at this point in my life? 

But I shouldn’t discredit the experience and knowledge I gained with my Big Love, especially because I experienced it during such developmental years as a teenager in high school, young adult in college, and well into my post grad life and now, wow, the age where I’ve been around for a quarter of a century.

I am forever thankful for my Big Love. I got it so young, among other experiences that shaped me as a child and adolescent. Amidst absolute chaos and hopelessness and feelings that I was getting shortchanged from the whole goddamn universe, I still had my talent, my soul, and people who loved me and allowed those things to flourish more than they could in other spaces among other individuals.

It’s hard (but still possible and does occur) to be mad at the world when the same one did give you something so special. I don’t find the trade off fair to be honest, but I don’t get a say in that, and despite my lingering youthful wishes, I can’t change the past.

I do get a say in who I become, how I respond, and how well I love. I deserve to be, do, and have the best. That’s what my Big Love taught me. So, now, I love big. 

[sincerelybillie]

to my daughter, female-identifying students, and even myself. here’s some information that would’ve helped 10 years ago.

[sincerelybillie]

WE BROKE A WORLD RECORD. #93 on the bucket list? done. my punjabi heart? overjoyed. i hope you can feel some of that too in this video. 

[sincerelybillie]

I fixed the thumbnail lol but anyways, made a video about things that are guaranteed to make me kill you!!! Enjoy!!!

[sincerelybillie]

I'm 19 tomorrow;

how the fuck did this happen

i don't think any year sped by and beat the shit out of me or made me as happy as 2013 did

fricking you know what happened in 2013

i turned 18 and cried because i thought that meant adulthood and no i was not fucking ready ok but as months passed i found out there are fucktards in their 20's who act like children and i am doing damn well for my age

i fucking wrote novels and got tattoos and dyed my hair and finally started to be myself and standing up to my parents and even though they have my best interests in mind, i got to say what i wanted to say

i graduated from high school and i'm content with the experience because i got voted most likely to change the world in the senior hall of fame and i never had drama with anyone and i had so many friends and things were cool and i laughed and smiled a lot and i kind of miss it all sometimes

i went to europe and crossed off so many items on my bucket list which was fucking incredible and honestly such a blessing to explore and experience 

one direction concert oh god i saw harry styles in the flesh and didn't even freak out because i realized he's such a normal (ridiculously hot guy) who needs to control his hair and take me to get tattoos and coffee and have lots of sex with me forever but this is for the future sorry i started rambling but they were wearing san jose sharks jerseys man and that's my fucking hockey team and i went with my good close friend from first grade like it was such a nice time 

and i started college and i was far from shy but also far from focused but that's okay because my grades were still pretty good and i stuck through the mundane coursework thanks to advanced placement experience in high school 

i fucked around a lot too this year, stupidly with myself and other people but i'm never self-harming again or getting involved with emotionally unstable people who claim to have crushes on me or be in love with me because i was genuinely traumatized by both a girl and a guy who i thought were okay in the beginning and then became psychotic and mean and i didn't need that, i really didn't

despite the bipolar disorder/major depressive/anxiety episodes, i gave up all forms of psychoactive drugs/antidepressants and turned more towards reading, Buddhism, yoga, music and comic relief 

my confidence really grew that year too; and it's funny because people are still going to find me obnoxious or self-centered whether i say "i love myself" or "i hate myself" but honestly who was i to give a fuck about people's opinions this year anyways

i'm cute as fuck and really pretty and i have a giant heart and good sense of humor and i love being someone to look up to and i hope i never let anyone down or be a bad example i tell good jokes and i give great hugs and i'm a genuinely wonderful girl and i don't think i would've said this before because i was either insecure or didn't wanna come across cocky but FUCK THAT man

i fucking adore myself and that's only going to make other people gravitate towards me more than they did before because look, a confident nice happy girl who yes, battles a disorder and a temper and is a bit insane and irrational sometimes but oh my god we like her we want her friendship and you can fucking have it if you're cool with me yes of course

i'm just so proud of myself because 2013 landed me in hellholes as well as cloud 9 time and time again and it's so nice to know i can survive that and earn that and i am so ready for this year

i am so ready to be 19 and i don't know what's going to happen, what's in store, or anything

i'm still a fucking clueless dumb little child sometimes, simultaneously as an intelligent and much wiser, battle-tested young woman 

but 2014 can bring it on oh my god i am stoked 

[sincerelybillie]

June 22nd, we slowed things down a bit because the city really exhausted us. We went to Stirling Castle and the Trossachs, and honestly felt like we had had our fair share of historical Scotland by now. And then we headed to see the William Wallace Monument, where an actor gave us a brief background on why he was so significant to the country. All hell broke loose after dinner at Jolly's again. Emma, Vanessa, and I went to go buy me batteries from a convenience store, which wasn't convenient at all, and the group got home either by cab, public bus, or something else, and the three of us were lost for almost 3 hours, soaked in rain, trying not to panic as we tried to find the university. We asked so many people for directions until people were kind enough either on the streets or the bus drivers, told us where to get off. And it was kind of nerve-wracking because big cities at night when only pubs are open is not exactly how we wanted to spend our last night in Edinburgh. Nonetheless, we made it home from what we did know about how to get back to the dorms, so...yeah. I got my batteries, but was too panicked to film anything aside from what was on my phone. ...I don't know, enjoy.

~Sincerely, 

Billie

[sincerelybillie]

Anyone from Class of 2014 and beyond needs this. I hope I helped. 

[sincerelybillie]

Happy Holidays! I actually meant to upload this on Christmas Eve or even Christmas day, but of course I had me own plans. Anyways, this is a 1.5 year delayed video of my visit to England, got me thinking how much I wanted to be there this holiday season, but that's okay. Here are some lessons I learned while crossing #108 off my Bucket List! Enjoy. ~ Sincerely, Billie