On Black Bathrooms, Magically

Oh my goodness, I love black. It’s one of my absolute favorite colors. After my parents’ divorce, we spent a lot of time moving around – rentals = white walls – and I promised myself that when I got a house, I would paint every room a color.

This home, done in blacks and whites and other neutrals is beautiful. There are parts I’m “meh” on (like the horns; not a big fan of horns), but check out that black and white striped bathroom and tell me that’s not amazing.

While I’m no closer to owning a home than I was at twelve, I’m definitely excited for the possibilities of painting and decorating; although based on the looks of our apartment now, I’m not going to be the most amazing decorator ever. I’m sure that KatieBarry-chic will be its own blend of clutter and color and homeyness and it will be wonderful. (and!….a bathtub with claw-feet!)

Also, I’m realizing that since all I really own are clothes and books, I’m going to need extensive shelving. Either that, or I’ll have to pare down my possessions. (Pssh, not going to get rid of my books, even the romance novels. They’re the best things for rainy days and cold winters.)

I have some free time this weekend (read this as: I am babysitting too much to really have a life), so I think I will begin the process of digging through my closet and trying to donate/sell/eliminate excess clothing. Anything from college (oh dear, or even high school) must go if it doesn’t fit, looks weird, or hasn’t been worn in ages.

This is such a difficult process for me, because I find myself crippled by the “What ifs” as I go through things. “What if I need this?” “It’d be great for a costume party.” – That’s the weirdest thought possible, I think. Who actually goes to that many costume parties that often? I haven’t been to one in at least a year. “This might fit me someday!” – Again, a terrible thought. If it’s more than two sizes too big, it’s got to go. (Which means that most of my man-pants are out. Bummer.)

Ah, well. I assume that I’ll come back to you on Monday only to report that I’ve stared at the closet, become overwhelmed, and bailed on the plan to organize. But one can always hope for great change, right?

On Childhood Haircuts, Nostalgically

I was little. My mom knew I was going to cut my own hair. I’d been cutting the dog’s hair, cutting the grass, cutting everything in sight with my scissors.

One day, I came down the stairs and I had taken the scissors to my bangs. Instead of cutting straight across, I had cut them so that they were really slanted. I had this giant triangle section of my bangs gone. And there was nothing that could be done about it.

I hid the hair behind a chair in the empty upstairs bedroom that we used as an office. (My only flash of memory of this incident was thinking that if I put the hair behind the chair, they’d never find it.)

So, seeing this interview with two little girls in the aftermath of an unfortunate hair cut, I smiled. The 5-year old daughter of an NPR staffer cut her 3-year old sister’s hair. You should listen to it. Oh my goodness, they are so adorable.

 

On the Supreme Court and Socialism, Quite Happily

I heard the news about the Supreme Court’s ruling on health care in the car on the way to work this morning. I am thrilled. We are one step closer to joining the ranks of the countries that have affordable health care. Now, if only we could get rid of that pesky “for profit” part…

The cries of socialism are ringing, though. On my way into my office building, a co-worker told me that one of the guys who eats breakfast was ranting about how we’re turning into a nation of socialists.

Hardly.

But it got me thinking about people, specifically. Our democratic model is supposed to allow for involvement by all citizens. Of course, the better educated and motivated the citizens are, the better the democracy, which in theory will work in the best interests of its people.

There was a man standing on the corner on my way to work. He caught my eye because his Hawaiian shirt did not match his checkered shorts. He was holding a sign that said, “Honest work for honest pay.” It also listed his phone number.

There’s another man, wearing some sort of identification badge (as a way to legitimize his request) who stands on the corner where I turn onto the main thoroughfare as I leave work. He’s there every day, even in the hot sun, and his sign says that he’s an Army veteran and a father of four, willing to work.

When I was a child, the signs read, “Anything helps,” or “I’m not going to lie, I need a beer,” and while I don’t mean to make light of the homeless epidemic that has been a problem for longer than I’ve been alive, which is entirely related to our own lack of mental health care -particularly for our veterans – and other necessary services, I find the fact that the signs’ messages have changed to be an indicator of a far deeper problem.

Who are we as a society to put profit before people? Have we forgotten about the “general welfare“?

When a baby is born, it is a helpless individual in need of constant attention. While most of these babies grow up to be adults, the paths that they take (both willfully and unwillingly) are greatly divergent from their shared beginnings as infants in need of clean diapers, a warm bed, and food.

Somewhere along the way, some of these people seem to have forgotten that our fragile existence is dependent upon reliance on others. Reliance on others sounds like hippie nonsense, but it’s not. Every individual possesses unique strengths that serve as an asset to the communities in which they live. A community that is able to utilize these assets in the best manner possible has far greater strength and is a far more vibrant place to be.

People are quick to make assumptions when they see someone standing on a street corner holding a sign that begs for work. I urge you to imagine how you would come to that decision. It’s not a dignified action, the begging, and people know that. They have weighed their options and come up with nothing, and so, standing on the corner with a sign is their last attempt.

Say what you will about people who receive assistance from the government (and in doing so, I urge you to consider the bailouts of banks and large corporations as something similar, just for perspective), but at the core of everything lies the concept of humanity. If we desire to create a society driven by the pursuit of sustainability and progress, we must remember that each and every citizen matters, regardless of their ability to accumulate wealth or their social standing.

In our rush to actualize the American dream, we started valuing white collar jobs, and in doing so, began to devalue labor. Human labor is a necessary force for sustained growth and the success of a nation. People want to work. They want to feel as though their work matters.

Business can be successful when people matter, but the desire to drive the profit margin ever higher must cease. I work for a company that proves that human is more important than anything else. We have been providing software for decades (longer than I’ve been alive), and have maintained and grown the business without sacrificing the integrity of the people who work here. My boss always says, “We are not what we do,” and he lives by that. He once had to get up in the middle of a very important demonstration of our product to go attend to his family, and he did so without hesitation. I respect that.We work together, as a community. We share ideas, inspirations, and celebrate the good news. We are a support network during times of grief and sadness. This is a unique kind of company, and I’m glad I work here.

I’m arguing for or against socialism, but I’m arguing that as a country, we’ve begun to neglect of the most important facets of our society: our people.

The United States is no longer the greatest nation in the world. What we lack in education, human services (including health care), and global respect, we make up for in incarceration rates, defense spending, and bravado. In order to keep ourselves relevant on the world stage, we must learn to compromise between the corporation and the individual. We are a government “by the people, for the people,” and it’s time that we started remembering that.

 

RIP Nora Ephron

Because I don’t have the words, I’ll have to borrow them from Nora Ephron herself (and from an article that appeared on a sister site of “The Atlantic”).

She wrote screenplays that changed the way we view romantic comedies. She was successful in a very male-dominated industry. She was bright, beautiful, and unique.

If you’d rather read the original article (or the version that I took from “The Atlantic”) please click here. 

See also: The Washington Post

Nora Ephron on Women, Love, Happiness, Reading, Life, and Death

JUN 27 2012, 12:17 PM ET

Selections from the prolific author’s essays and books

[optional image description]

Nora Ephron in 1975 during an interview in New York (AP Images)

What a sad year it’s been for literary and creative heroes, with losses as inconsolable as Maurice SendakRay Bradbury, and Hillman Curtis. Tuesday night, we lost the great Nora Ephron (1941-2012)—prolific and thoughtful filmmaker, novelist, journalist, playwright, essayist, and blogger, a feminist with fierce wit, whom The New York Times describes as being “in the Dorothy Parker mold (only smarter and funnier…).”

 

Today, let’s take a moment and celebrate Ephron with some of her most memorable insights on women, politics, happiness, love, intellectual life, and death.

 

On reading, in I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman (public library):

Reading is everything. Reading makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something, learned something, become a better person. Reading makes me smarter. Reading gives me something to talk about later on. Reading is the unbelievably healthy way my attention deficit disorder medicates itself. Reading is escape, and the opposite of escape; it’s a way to make contact with reality after a day of making things up, and it’s a way of making contact with someone else’s imagination after a day that’s all too real. Reading is grist. Reading is bliss.

 

On money and creative incentive, in “My Life as an Heiress“:

I was extremely lucky not to have ever inherited real money, because I might not have finished writing ‘When Harry Met Sally…,’ which changed my life.

 

Addressing young women in her 1996 Wellesley commencement speech, a fine addition to some modern history’s finest graduation addresses:

I want to remind you of the undertow, of the specific gravity. American society has a remarkable ability to resist change, or to take whatever change has taken place and attempt to make it go away.[…]

Above all, be the heroine of your life, not the victim.

 

On the difference between controversy and political incorrectness, in the January 1976 issue of Esquire:

I am continually fascinated at the difficulty intelligent people have in distinguishing what is controversial from what is merely offensive.

 

On the evolving metrics of “happiness” for women, in Crazy Salad: Some Things About Women(public library):

We have lived through the era when happiness was a warm puppy, and the era when happiness was a dry martini, and now we have come to the era when happiness is ‘knowing what your uterus looks like.’

 

On the joy of being awake to the world, in Heartburn (public library):

I look out the window and I see the lights and the skyline and the people on the street rushing around looking for action, love, and the world’s greatest chocolate chip cookie, and my heart does a little dance.

 

On the politics of the public encroaching on the private, in her 1996 Wellesley commencement address—remarkably timely, despite the dated references, in light of today’s ongoing debates about publicly-private issues like marriage equality and abortion:

One of the things people always say to you if you get upset is, don’t take it personally, but listen hard to what’s going on and, please, I beg you, take it personally. Understand: every attack on Hillary Clinton for not knowing her place is an attack on you. Underneath almost all those attacks are the words: get back, get back to where you once belonged. When Elizabeth Dole pretends that she isn’t serious about her career, that is an attack on you. The acquittal of O.J. Simpson is an attack on you. Any move to limit abortion rights is an attack on you — whether or not you believe in abortion. The fact that Clarence Thomas is sitting on the Supreme Court today is an attack on you.

 

On love and the capacity for romantic rebirth, in I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts on Being a Woman:

Why hadn’t I realized how much of what I thought of as love was simply my own highly developed gift for making lemonade? What failure of imagination had caused me to forget that life was full of other possibilities, including the possibility that eventually I would fall in love again?

 

On death, in I Remember Nothing: And Other Reflections (public library), her final book:

Everybody dies. There’s nothing you can do about it. Whether or not you eat six almonds a day. Whether or not you believe in God.brainpickingslogo.jpg

This post also appears on Brain Pickings, an Atlantic partner site.

On the Weekend

Kids Crafts

I love babysitting. Now that I’m out of college and staring down the possibility of motherhood within the next decade or so, I am looking at babysitting as the ultimate in childhood education. It provides such an insight into the world of parenting. I get to see the kids at their shiny, smiling best and at their absolute, angry worst. I get to watch their minds develop and wonder; they blow me kisses and sign “I love you” when I put them to sleep; we giggle together. Children are truly wondrous.

But more than that, I get to watch different sets of parents actively making choices. Each household does things differently, and all they want is the best for their children. I’m terrified that I will somehow raise children that aren’t independent, free-thinking, and respectful. (See this article in the New Yorker for more on that…)

It’s good practice. It’s good exposure. And I honestly think that for all of my years spent babysitting, I’ll be a much better mother.

Kiddie Pool

Denver has been HOT. Too hot. Whenever the summer gets like this, I always think of that episode of Hey, Arnold! where there’s the heat wave. Don’t ask why, I’m not even entirely sure what happens in the episode.

My apartment does not have air conditioning. The cat is angry about this, and is grateful for the fans we have set up in an attempt to circulate some of the air. So on Saturday, we bought a kiddie pool, some squirt guns, sunscreen, and a plastic jar with a spout and a handle! It’s the perfect combination for summer. Swisher has informed me that now that we own a hose together, we’re pretty much committed to each other.

After the stress that was our first fight last week, I had some more serious realizations: On Saturday, he helped me clean out my room at my mom’s house – she’s trying to reclaim our childhood rooms and I’m resisting. But there was no judgement as he picked through random piles of books and clothes and the knick knacks of my youth. I realized that even though there are things that I’m going to have to accept and learn to love about him, he’s having to do the same thing for me. Helping me clean is always going to be a labor of love (Maddie knows all about this), and one that I will be forever grateful for.

I’m going to try to be more patient and realistic in my expectations, but I also told him that I’m not going to let him slide on anything. I think it was good. Cooling off in the pool was even better. I can’t wait to spend the summer hanging out at the pool I’ve inflated in the empty lot next to my apartment building. (Hah.)

Sky clouds plane

The view from the pool.

City park jazz

On Sunday nights, they do free jazz concerts in City Park. Since it’s within walking distance, last night we made a little picnic of lemonade, bread, cheese, meat, and grapes and headed over with some blankets. It was a lovely evening of lounging on the blankets in the cooling air.

City Park Jazz Denver

(Swisher took this!)

Sadly, as the jazz was ending around 8pm, a police officer (and single mother of a 12-year old daughter) was shot and killed. We heard the gunshots, thought they sounded like fireworks, and then heard the sirens. Cop cars and an ambulance were all over the park. We weren’t very close to the shooting, and we didn’t really feel any sense of panic (I mean, it wasn’t the stampede-effect), but the stream of people out of the park was pretty consistent.

I seriously hope that this crime doesn’t deter people from coming out to the park. It’s such a beautiful place, and having free music every Sunday is a really great opportunity to feel like a part of the community. Maybe next week, they will have some sort of donation center up so that patrons can donate to the family of the slain officer.

I’m sad. Sad for the daughter of the officer, sad for the officer herself, and sad for the guy who killed her. Misplaced rage, or sad displays of masculinity, or something else led to a split-second decision that took a life, took a mother, and changed another’s life forever. This guy, who’s only 21, will have to spend the rest of his life reliving those moments. I only hope that prison for him is not so much a place of criminal education, but instead offers a place of hope and personal growth. (It won’t, but then again, our prison system has never really been about reducing recidivism. It’s more of a profit mill than anything else. I like hearing about places that really work for rehabilitation and optimism than those which breed gang violence and racially divided populations while glorifying violence.)

Night fisbee

When we got home, there were a ton of people in our living room. By a ton, I mean ten, but expecting to see one and seeing ten is still overwhelming. After a while, Mike’s friends wanted to take a walk. Which was perfect, because I wanted to play night frisbee.

Night frisbee has been on my brain for days now. It’s harder, I think, to play night frisbee because all you see is the light, flying straight at your head. The color is nice, but it’s easier to miss. I’m still awesome at it, of course.

After everyone left, Mike, Swisher, and I continued playing on the side of the building. It was such a relaxing night, the perfect end to a very hectic week. (Or the perfect beginning to another hectic week?)

In unrelated news, I love my slapwatch. I do not actually use it to keep time, and so I don’t think it’s been accurate for like six months. (Bear in mind that I’ve only owned it for like 6 months.) Also, my childhood self cheers every time I wear it. Good for her.

On Anatomically Correct Language, Vaginally

This news stunned me. Literally.

June 15, 2012 at 11:02 am

Michigan reps silenced for use of ‘v-words’

Comments about sexual parts, procedures during abortion debate cause controversy

  • By Chad Livengood
  • Detroit News Lansing Bureau
  • 48 Comments

Lansing — House Republicans tried to silence two female Democratic lawmakers Thursday for floor outbursts a day earlier referencing male sterilization and a female sex organ.

The majority party prohibited state Rep. Lisa Brown from speaking on the floor Thursday after she ended a speech the day before against a bill restricting abortions by referencing her female anatomy.

“I’m flattered that you’re all so interested in my vagina, but ‘no’ means ‘no,’ ” said Brown, D-West Bloomfield.

State Rep. Barb Byrum, D-Onondaga, also wasn’t recognized to speak Thursday for a disturbance she caused on the House floor Wednesday when the GOP majority wouldn’t allow her to propose a ban on men getting a vasectomy unless the sterilization procedure was necessary to save a man’s life.

Majority Floor Leader Jim Stamas, R-Midland, made the decision to prevent Brown and Byrum from speaking on any of the slew of bills the House was racing to pass before adjourning for the summer.

As the party in power, the Republicans can decide who gets to speak and what issue — just as the Democrats did to them when they were in power two years ago.

“My concern was the decorum of the House, not of anything she said,” Stamas told The Detroit News.

“I ask all members to maintain a decorum of the House, and I felt it went too far yesterday,” he said.

Speaker Pro Tem John Walsh, R-Livonia, gaveled Brown out of order for saying “no means no” — because it suggested Brown was comparing the abortion legislation to rape, House GOP spokesman Ari Adler said.

“It has nothing to do with the word vagina,” Adler said.

Some male Republican representatives, however, said Brown’s comments were vulgar, “inappropriate” and “offensive.”

“What she said was offensive,” said state Rep. Mike Callton, R-Nashville.

“It was so offensive, I don’t even want to say it in front of women. I would not say that in mixed company,” he said.

During a Capitol press conference Thursday, Brown noted “vagina” is the “medically correct term” for the female organ at the center of the Legislature’s ongoing abortion restriction debate.

“If I can’t say the word vagina, why are we legislating vaginas?” Brown said. “What language should I use?

“We’re all adults here.”

House Speaker Jase Bolger, R-Marshall, would not address the controversy that had become a national news story by late Thursday.

“I think we’ve made plenty of comments about her inappropriate behavior,” Bolger said.

In an appearance on MSNBC’s “The Rachel Maddow Show” Thursday night, Brown maintained she did nothing wrong.

“I followed the House rules,” said Brown, noting the incident has helped her raise campaign donations.

Democrats said the GOP’s action was more evidence of Republicans trampling women’s rights.

“The war on women in Michigan is not fabricated — this is very real — and it comes at the highest levels of state government,” said Senate Democratic Leader Gretchen Whitmer of East Lansing.

Whitmer made the comment in a YouTube video appearance with state Sen. Rebekah Warren, D-Ann Arbor, posted Thursday in response to the House abortion bill.

As the controversy brewed Thursday, Republicans launched into public relations damage control, emphasizing Byrum and Brown could speak in the future as long as they abided by the rules.

“As a woman and mother, I was personally offended by Rep. Lisa Brown’s disgraceful actions during Wednesday’s floor debate,” state Rep. Lisa Lyons, R-Alto, said in a statement released late Thursday.

After passing a bill with new regulations for abortion providers, the House tabled another bill Wednesday that would ban all abortions after 20 weeks with a narrow exemption for the life of the mother.

Byrum indicated she wants to give men the same treatment House Republicans proposed for women who may be unable to terminate an unwanted pregnancy under House Bill 5713.

House Republicans also wouldn’t let staByrum speak on the House floor Thursday.

Byrum, D-Onondaga, caused a disturbance on the House floor Wednesday when she wasn’t allowed to introduce an amendment to the abortion regulations bill banning men from getting a vasectomy unless the sterilization procedure was necessary to save a man’s life.

“If we truly want to make sure children are born, we would regulate vasectomies,” Byrum said.

When House Speaker Pro Tem John Walsh, R-Livonia, wouldn’t recognize Bryum to propose her amendment, she began shouting at him and stormed out of the chamber.

“You should have let me speak. … I represent the same number of people you do,” Byrum told Walsh.

From The Detroit News:http://www.detroitnews.com/article/20120615/POLITICS02/206150373#ixzz1xtly27z0

Regardless of where you stand on the abortion issue, or even this bill, the events that transpired should ignite an anger somewhere deep inside you. (Even my cervix is enraged.) This goes far beyond abortion.

The word “vagina” may scare people, but that’s because those people are cowards.

During a Capitol press conference Thursday, Brown noted “vagina” is the “medically correct term” for the female organ at the center of the Legislature’s ongoing abortion restriction debate.

“If I can’t say the word vagina, why are we legislating vaginas?” Brown said. “What language should I use?

“We’re all adults here.”

From The Detroit News: http://www.detroitnews.com/article/20120615/POLITICS02/206150373#ixzz1xtoxbqTT

Adults? I don’t think you should be an adult to know words like “vagina.”

When I was two (or not quite two), my little brother was born. My parents brought him home. Apparently, I started anatomy lessons early. While my mom was changing his diaper one day, I asked her what “that” was. When she told me, I went down the hall saying, “Penis, penis, penis”  over and over again. She laughs when she tells the story. “You weren’t going to forget that,” she says.

My family wasn’t scared of anatomically correct words, and rightly so.

I hardly think that understanding the proper words for referring to “private parts” are going to cause children to become immoral beasts. But then again, the way certain members of the GOP are pushing their agenda of ignorance, you’d think that they’d rather have us never mention those words at all. (…because we’ve been so great at stopping kids from accessing information in general with the advent of the internet, and all).

Speaker Pro Tem John Walsh, R-Livonia, gaveled Brown out of order for saying “no means no” — because it suggested Brown was comparing the abortion legislation to rape, House GOP spokesman Ari Adler said.

“It has nothing to do with the word vagina,” Adler said.

Some male Republican representatives, however, said Brown’s comments were vulgar, “inappropriate” and “offensive.”

“What she said was offensive,” said state Rep. Mike Callton, R-Nashville.

“It was so offensive, I don’t even want to say it in front of women. I would not say that in mixed company,” he said.

From The Detroit News: http://www.detroitnews.com/article/20120615/POLITICS02/206150373#ixzz1xtpz9k84

What? Vulgar? The word “vagina”? I bet Callton is a real hoot at dinner parties. What else makes his list of vulgar words? Here’s a great list of words that sound dirty but aren’t.

The feminist who lives inside me is begging me to rant about the choice of diction in Rep. Callton’s statements. Firstly, “mixed company” generally (although I’m sure that at some point, it will be proposed that we amend “mixed company” to include only men and fetuses) includes women, and most of those women have are in possession of a vagina. They probably aren’t scared to say it.

I don’t just casually drop it in conversation, but then again, I generally don’t drop other anatomical parts unless necessary. “I seriously bruised my coccyx yesterday.” Or, “They had to X-ray my pelvis for signs of bone deterioration.” (I don’t know, it could happen.)

Having someone refer to “vagina” as vulgar is insulting. Women have spent the better part of human history being associated with dirty and unpleasant connotations because they possess them. To say that saying “vagina” is offensive is offensive to me. (Say that sentence three times fast.) As a human, I am not offensive. My vagina is not offensive. It’s not vulgar, or crude. It’s a part of who I am. It’s a part of half the United States (give or take a few). Ask Georgia O’Keeffe; she – albeit only potentially, and even then, only subconsciously – totally got it.

Marketers spend billions of dollars telling woman that we’re offensive, that we’re unclean, that we’re not perfect, so I’d prefer to not add the stress of having a legislator reinforcing that message.

Attempts at “respecting” women by legislating their personal choices and keeping them from hearing words like vagina are very reminiscent of a time not so long ago when women weren’t allowed to vote. Or own property. Or get divorced. Or refuse to have sex with their husbands.

Tell me I’m jumping to conclusions, fine. But I fear that we’re regressing. I fear that this county, which once stood for freedom and progress, now stands for freedom and progress…for a select few. And sadly, I don’t see myself as being included in those select few. I’m a woman. I’m an educated woman. I matter. When a member of my gender is discriminated against and sanctioned for standing up and speaking her mind, I will take offense.

Oh, speaking of sanctions…one of the motives given for barring Lisa Brown from speaking was “…concern was the decorum of the House.” Ha, well it’s not like she interrupted a speech or anything. (I’m talking about you, Joe Wilson.)

Disgusting. (More or disgusting than a vagina, obviously.) This trend of legislating against women is one thing, but the trend of silencing our voices is worse. It’s a grave offense. Limiting our ability to speak on issues that obviously pertain to us is oppressive.

Oppression, you say?

I’m going to stay away from the whole sexuality deal today, because this post just got long, but let me remind you that abortion has a root cause. And that’s usually sex. Consensuality (not a word, but whatever) and other issues aside, sex that causes pregnancy involves a man and a woman. Man and a woman. This is not just on the women. But I am obligated to at least remind you of the slut-shaming that happens before, during, or after sex. Sometimes no sex is involved for such insults and categorizations. Women’s sexuality is scary.

I googled this cartoon (because it has lived in my mind for a long time), and came across this post, in a blog called “Obliged to Offend.” The last paragraph of this post says, “Female sexuality can at times be subversive and powerful. It is for this reason that many men feel threatened by the presence of a woman expressing it. They feel that she has the greater degree of sexual choice and power so they try to control or dominate her. This is not, as some believe, confined strictly to the remnants of old-fashioned male sexism or the devout followers of monotheistic religion. Beauty and sexuality are a threat to orthodoxies of all stripes because they are an expression of our animalistic ancestry which cannot be levelled out or extinguished by force. Political creeds, however emancipatory their rhetoric, are also very often rationalisations of deeper emotional problems.”

It is my opinion that we are currently experiencing a wave of backlash resulting from the feminist movements that marked the late 19th and 20th centuries. We see women becoming more and more powerful. We are more educated, more involved in the workforce, and more independent.

In the search for equality, we have unintentionally upended the traditional male roles. They are lost, confused, unsure. (Not all, but quite a few. Trust me, I’ve been dating since I was fifteen. I have considerable experience interacting with them.) Marriages are declining, and they’re happening later. Now that women are focusing on their careers and their whole selves, they are less inclined to find a husband and procreate as soon as possible in order to meet hegemonic expectations for a normal family structure and life trajectory.

Personally, I still strive for a husband. And children. And that whole traditional white fence dream. But I’m determined to find someone who respects the shit out of me, who supports my decisions and my dreams, and who wants the same things out of life that I want. For me, there is no problem with combining female strength and wife-ness. (I’ll need some serious help or at least compromise on the traditional wife duties, though. I can’t clean to save my life. Or cook.)

I’m sorry that the root of this mad legislating and silencing and anti-women rhetoric might lie in the fear of powerful women (hence the emphasis on the cultural breakdown of the traditional family structure and the fervent attempts to rectify these perceived wrongs and immorality), but I’m not sorry. Just as women have had to adjust, compromise, and grow in order to accommodate their new opportunities (we still end up doing most of the housework and child-rearing; we just have to do it after we get off work), men should do the same.

Masculinity doesn’t have to be defined by the ability to produce income. Or the ability to dominate or control a woman. Masculinity can be a lot of things. Men should, well, man up and get to work figuring out how they can come to terms with women playing ball on their level. Because women aren’t going to stop fighting for equality, for respect, for rights. At the end of the day, we are all human beings with feelings and individual strengths. We need to work together in order to achieve any sort of forward progress.

But let’s start by being able to say “vagina.” Baby steps.

 

On ADD, non-“disastrous”ly

From The Economist:

Attention-deficit disorder (ADD) is another entrepreneur-friendly affliction: people who cannot focus on one thing for long can be disastrous employees but founts of new ideas. Some studies suggest that people with ADD are six times more likely than average to end up running their own businesses. David Neeleman, the founder of JetBlue, a budget airline, says: “My ADD brain naturally searches for better ways of doing things. With the disorganisation, procrastination, inability to focus and all the other bad things that come with ADD, there also come creativity and the ability to take risks.” Paul Orfalea, the founder of Kinko’s and a hotch-potch of businesses since, has both ADD and dyslexia. “I get bored easily; that is a great motivator,” he once said. “I think everybody should have dyslexia and ADD.”

Firstly, hotch-potch? Googled it. Turns out it’s English-English for hodgepodge. Relief! I had a moment of panic during which I thought I’d been using “hodgepodge” incorrectly for years. Blimey.

I swear, though, I’m not a disastrous employee, although I will admit to being awesome at disorganization (you should see my desk) and procrastination. I do my best thinking when I’m on my lunch break. I am lucky enough to work in an environment conducive to my needs and my abilities. Since I work in a non-traditional office setting, I find that I am able to adapt my work tasks to best meet my own needs. It doesn’t hurt that I have a managerial team that understands my strengths and weaknesses, and is always ready and available for help and guidance. In the year and a half (has it really been that long!?) that I’ve worked at my company, I’ve been able to add a variety of tasks to my job description. I never have to do one thing for too long, and consequently, am usually happily busy and engaged. I am also allowed quite a bit of creative input, which has led to some great things. I’m also accruing various responsibilities, which means that I can’t get too far off track (ever) or we will suffer disastrous consequences (probably).

 

On “Ask Amy”, angrily

Ugh.

I’m an avid reader of the syndicated “Ask Amy” column (I get it from the Denver Post). Usually, Amy Dickinson – I believe she’s Chicago-based – gives great advice. But today, I’m disappointed.

Here’s the original post:

Dear Amy:I have had a job at a local bar for more than a year. One of my good friends had been trying to get a job with us for several months. An opportunity finally came up, and I got her a job. She was so excited and was pumped to do a good job.

The only problem is, she sleeps around. A lot.

I asked her to not mess around with any of the bouncers. She broke this one rule … twice!

Now I am totally insulted and feel betrayed by her; I told the boss that she was a good person and would do a really good job.

She keeps apologizing and has been asking me what’s wrong almost hourly.

How do I go about voicing my hurt with her?

Neither of the guys she was with knew about the other until I told them, and now we all feel betrayed.— Betrayed

Dear Betrayed:It is not clear which rule your friend broke — a friendship rule, laid down by you, or a rule of the establishment where you both work.

I’m assuming that there is no actual rule stating that workers cannot be sexually involved with one another but that you wanted your friend to respect boundaries established by you.

Now you need to be as honest as you were before — and tell her how foolish you think she is and how betrayed you feel.

Even though you recommended your friend for this job, you are not responsible for her behavior or reputation while she is on the job. And you can’t protect her from the fallout (personal and professional) from her own choices.

Read more:Woman gets friend a job, now feels betrayed (5/14/2012) – The Denver Post

First of all, it sounds like the girl who feels betrayed is an idiot. It doesn’t seem like this is affecting the friend’s job performance, so her claim that “I told the boss she was a really good person and would do a good job” doesn’t seem to hold much weight if that’s the basis for this betrayal.

Secondly, Amy was correct in her original response when she said, “…you can’t protect her from the fallout (personal and professional) from her own choices.” It’s also true that the whole thing is convoluted and unclear.

So why am I annoyed?

Well, this:

Dear Amy:I had a thought about the answer you gave to “Betrayed,” who works at a local bar and was feeling “insulted and … betrayed” by a good friend (now co-worker) whose sleeping with co-workers she thought inappropriate.

I was jarred by her statement that “Neither of the guys she was with knew about the other until I told them; now we all feel betrayed.”

In my opinion, “Betrayed” had no business cluing-in the two guys — and that by doing so, she, herself, was “betraying” the confidence of her “good friend.”— DC Fan

Dear Fan:“Betrayed” had recommended her friend for a job and had asked her to please not sleep with the bouncers. Friend had in fact slept with two of them.

I agree that Betrayed seemed to gratuitously notify both men — but these days people who do this have a ready reason: “I was warning him/her about the danger of STDs!”
Read more:Ask Amy – The Denver Post


I agree entirely with “DC Fan.” The girl who got the friend the job overstepped some serious boundaries here (firstly by being upset and secondly by running her mouth).

Amy’s response about “these days people who do this have a ready reason: ‘I was warning him/her about the danger of STDs!'” is off-base. I think that’s a really shitty excuse to gossip. It’s catty and immature. Unless she can prove that there is a legitimate reason that the girl might be giving her partners diseases (notice that no one is saying, “Someone better hand that girl a pamphlet on STI testing, those guys may have something!”), then it’s none of her business to be saying anything to anyone about someone else’s sex life, let alone the people involved in said sex life.

I don’t buy it for a second that there is any real concern behind the girl telling the bouncers about each other. I think it’s all a means to get them on her side, which makes me wonder if the girl who got the friend the job is just upset that the friend seems to be fitting in at the place they work better.

I’m annoyed that Amy seems to be insinuating that the girl who slept with two bouncers may be carrying a disease. I’m annoyed that we can’t imagine that they are responsible adults who can take care of themselves and take necessary precautions before engaging in such extracurricular activities.

Amy, not your best advice. Not your best response to a letter responding to advice, either.

A Little Love Goes a Long Way

After trying to explain to one of my grandmothers on Mother’s Day that the Church (big C) can get in the way of God, I saw this article today and thought of how much the world has to learn about who/what “God” really is.

I was shaken after leaving my grandmother’s house, and my thoughts went back through my life, turning over and over the interactions that may have driven my father’s side of the family to dislike me so immensely. I’ve sometimes wondered if it’s because I hang out with gays. (I asked Jacob last night if I was okay to drop the “the” and just say “gays”, and he said that since I’m a honorary gay, it’s okay.) They are so very uncomfortable about anything “gay” and my utter embrace of the culture may have offended them.

And as I was talking to my mom about how frustrating all of this is (not just the family hating me part, but also the family – and lots of other people – hating gays part), she said, “Katie, if more people had a Jacob, there’d be a lot less hate in the world.”

And my heart sort of melted. She’s not wrong.

I wish everyone knew how much their hate could hurt. I wish everyone knew what this little boy knows. God is love. God does love. God’s love is good.

For those of us humans who choose to embrace religion, it’s important to remember that actions speak louder than words. Professions of hatred, such as the ones by the Westboro Baptist Church, are not in keeping with the teachings of Christ. Whatever faith you embrace (or don’t embrace), use today to spread a little love. Set a better example.

Kid Told Westboro Protesters ‘God Hates No One’ Because, ‘That Is True’

Categories: ReligionNational News

01:40 pm

Josef Miles, making his own statement.

EnlargePatty Akrouche/Facebook.com/FeverDreamsJosef Miles, making his own statement.

“I just don’t like seeing those signs and I kind of wanted to put a stop to that.”

That’s 9-year-old Josef Miles’ simple explanation for why he held up a notepad that said “GOD HATES NO ONE” as supporters of the tiny Westboro Baptist Church staged another small demonstration featuring their signs that say God hates homosexuals.

His Mother’s Day Weekend action in Topeka, Kan., which we we reported about last week, won Josef fans across the Web after photos of him started to spread. Today, he and his mom spoke with Tell Me More host Michel Martin.

Josef’s mother, Patty Akrouche, told Michel that she and her son have often seen the Westboro Baptist protesters in Topeka, where the church is based. As we’ve said before, Westboro Baptist has gained notice in recent years for protesting against homosexuality, abortion and other issues outside the funerals of military veterans and celebrities.

Josef had in the past asked her about the signs, which feature an objectionable F-word when referring to homosexuals. Akrouche had told her son that the signs were using “a hate word” to refer to men who love men and women who love women.

As he reflected on that, Josef said, he decided that “I didn’t want everybody to think that Topeka has a bad image.” So on the day earlier this month when they came upon the protesters again, “I thought about it for a minute” and concluded that “God hates no one” would be the right thing to say.

Why?

Because “that is true,” Josef said.

Akrouche told Michel that “it’s a privilege and honor” to be Josef’s mom. She has better conversations with him, she said, than with many adults: “I learn something new from him every day.”

As for Josef, he felt “really brave and confident” that day (the Westboro protesters “were respectful,” by the way, according to Akrouche). And now he’s a little surprised by the attention he’s gotten. “I thought it would be just, like, ‘oh, that’s really great, good for you,’ ” he said, not something that would go viral.

Source: NPR

On Fifty Shades of Grey, consensually

I fully intended to write up a whole rant about what prudes we are, regarding the release and subsequent popularity of the Fifty Shades of Grey novels. I wandered into Barnes & Noble the other day to buy the first of the trilogy and an economics book, but ended up with 2 economics books, 3 Fifty Shades of Grey books, Bloom, and two romance novels. Embarrassing. But honestly, whatever. Books are good. You’d rather me spend money on that than on meth, right? (That’s a horrible explanation, but I’m still trying to internally rationalize buying so many books. First I was supporting books in print, then I was helping the economy. I’ve devolved to “at least it’s not meth” and I don’t see the argument gaining any traction any time soon.)

Here’s my synopsis in a few sentences: Yes, I love it, but only because I have a penchant for romance novels and BDSM, so the two together please me in the way only badly written books read in the bathtub can. Yes, it reminds me of Twilight. I think her choice to set it in the Pacific NW was a terrible one.

Hahaha, everyone talks about how revolutionary this book is, but honestly, it’s a book that relies on thin stereotypes. The protagonist is a strong-willed and intelligent woman who is determined to get her boyfriend to turn vanilla (which means to give up his BDSM lifestyle and embrace all things missionary). Did I mention that he’s a billionaire who plays the piano and speaks French and oh, by the way, was terribly abused as a child and so he’s broken and we should pity him even though he’s a titch over-protective to the point of obsession?

He loves her, and she loves him. Coincidentally, she’s a pure virgin and he’s the wounded sadist.  She wants him to give up his perfectly consensual lifestyle (which she finds abhorrent)  to love her, and he does. She wants him to learn how to trust, and love, and let people touch him finally so he can move past his abuse. And magically, she manages to break through his barriers. It’s like five weeks before they’re engaged.

And turn vanilla they do. I’m pretty sure they get married and have a baby at the end of the trilogy. (And by pretty sure, I mean I know exactly what happens, because I read the last page of the last book.) Not that marriage and babies is “vanilla”, but the plot line follows a pretty standard hegemonic trajectory that I see in 99.999% of romance novels, so we’re back on a well-trod track. (Not a bad one. Before I die, I’d love to write a romance novel. I tried in early 2010 and it was poorly cobbled together and weak. Ugh, I shudder to think about it.)

Katie reminded me that I’m being hyper-critical and that so many of the people reading these books have no idea what BDSM entails. And since the characters are so quick to embrace a vanilla-BDSM blend, I guess she’s right. This is a good start for people to start understanding what goes on in your neighbors’ bedrooms at night. I also think that since it’s consensual, and contractual, it’s a good representation of the power dynamics that are involved. And the author throws out words like “flogger” and “caning” to add to the perceived authenticity. I can respect a gentle introduction to the terminology and the concepts wrapped in a fictional piece.

However, it was Dan Savage, my favorite sex columnist who put it best, so I’ve copied a portion of his column today and also a smaller portion of another answer in the same column. And I’m actually laughing out loud about the top bit:


I’m stumped, Dan. In the novel Fifty Shades of Grey, which has been the subject of much discussion due to its controversial subject matter (a young woman gets involved in a BDSM relationship), the term “canning” is used numerous times. Despite my best efforts, I cannot find a definition for this practice. Who else can I turn to but you?

-Confused And Naive, New Era Definition

It’s not canning (“a method of preserving food in which the food contents are processed and sealed in an airtight container”), it’s caning (“a form of corporal punishment consisting of a number of hits with a single cane usually made of rattan”).

I don’t know if the author of Fifty Shades of Grey dropped that extra “n” in there, CANNED, or if you did. But here’s hoping that millions of women all over the world aren’t fantasizing about having themselves canned by kinky billionaires. A person can survive—a person can even enjoy—a good thrashing. But being sealed in an airtight container? Not so much.

Full disclosure: I may be the only sex writer on earth who has yet to read Fifty Shades of Grey. While I plan to avoid readingGrey, just as I’ve avoided watching “2 Girls, 1 Cup” (and for similar reasons, i.e., I’m easily nauseated), I think it’s wonderful that this book is inspiring a whole new generation of American women to get their kink on.

Here’s the second bit, and I think it’s worth paying attention to, for a number of social reasons:

Backing way the hell up for a moment: I’ve been writing about sex and relationships, men and women, kinky sex and vanilla sex for 20 years. It is my informed opinion that men typically become aware of their kinks—they typically become hyperaware of them—when they’re teenagers. Many women, on the other hand, don’t seem to become aware of their kinks until they’re in their 30s or 40s. Maybe it has something to do with the sexual peak, which men are believed to hit in their teens and women in their 30s (and which many people believe to be bullshit), or maybe it simply takes women longer to overcome the misogynist slut-shaming that they’re subjected to as girls and to openly embrace their sexualities and sexual interests.

source: The Seattle Stranger (but other places, too)