I have several friends who are lesbians...they have been feeling hopeful after the law passed in New York...they can get married. I have never completely understood the whole "homosexual marriage weakens my marriage" camp. Yes, I know that I am not married...but I cannot figure out how letting people be legally committed to one another is negative. It is actually a positive....stronger relationships...stronger families...stronger communities....at least in my opinion. I have observed firsthand how difficult it can be for someone outside of the norm...I have a friend in Indiana who has yet to "come out" to her parents....she has been in the same relationship for 6 years and is very happy....her mom keeps telling her that she needs to "be married by forty"...I have heard of hate crimes that are awful....and that some are afraid to go to the police...but I think that we as a country do not agree that this is the right way...it is just a few morons who are scared of their own weaknesses and pitiful manhood. A case in point is my cousin...his family (my aunt and uncle) have completely disowned him...refuse to see him...why? He is gay.
In South Africa, while it is completely legal to marry someone of the same gender... it is becoming a cultural norm for men to "correctively rape" lesbians....that somehow by being brutalized they will actually realize they LIKE men? that raping them will fix it? really...it just may be that the men there are not blessed with a brain of any sort...or at least one that understands logic! The police do not help...and further victimize....
Seriously...this is insane...I am so grateful that I live in America...where we have a voice and can speak out! Check out the story:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-13908662
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eudy_Simelane
http://www.channel4.com/news/articles/world/africa/corrective+rape+in+south+africa+/3027797.html
.
.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Autopsy File #201a
In my short history with boys as not having cooties....I find myself remembering the summer before my senior year and the two plus years that follow. The Preacher's Kid (PK) was a friend of mine. We had volunteered on numerous events over the previous year. He was a grade behind me and I never noticed him as anything else...until the summer before my senior year. He was cute, funny, smart and nice. We had great conversations and similar values. I noticed my feelings change for him that summer...but from past experience, I knew that if I wanted to keep the friendship, I could not let on that I had more than "friendly" feelings for him. As the school year progressed, it became even harder to squelch those feelings. He confided in me that he liked this particular girl...my heart was hurt. Fortunately (for me), his feelings for her subsided. (he never seemed interested in me....but one had to have hope :)) Near the end of the year, prom was approaching. I was really dreading prom. I wanted to go to my senior prom, but going stag seemed so pathetic. I had decided that I would ask a friend. I asked PK. After nearly two weeks of waiting (and assuming that it had happened YET again--he thinks I like him...therefore he has to run away)...he said that he would go with me! I was ecstatic! I was going to prom....not with a boyfriend, but going nonetheless!
We had a great time! I never asked him to slow dance...and to my surprise...he asked me to! I did not let myself get too excited...but it was great. We began to hang out more and more over the summer before college. It was a month before I was to go and he and I were walking from his house to a friends house. All of the sudden, he put his arm around me....I was uncomfortable...I didn't understand what was happening...then....he tried to kiss me! I had no idea! I was talking through my nervousness and had turned away! It took the few remaining minutes of the walk for me to figure out what had just happened! I was kicking myself, but had no idea how to proceed. (this is where that class would have been nice! LOL) On the walk back to his house, I waited at the end of the drive before I got into my truck. It seemed like eons, but was only a minute or two. I wanted to give him a chance to try again if that is what he was doing...nothing happened...so I turned to go (very disappointed, but resigned)...he stopped me....then...he kissed me! Oh my gosh! It was so thrilling!
As I drove home, I thought"that was so awesome" "wait...what now? what do I do?" He took me to a movie the next day and things just progressed from there. He was calling me his girlfriend...and I thought wow...this is what it feels like! Over my first year in college he visited as often as he could; wrote me daily and sent me mixed tapes. We spent tons of time together on my breaks...and made plans. He even survived Christmas with my family! I was falling in love! About a month before summer break, he came for one last visit. He brought me flowers...we had a great weekend! As I was kissing him goodbye another girl from my hall came up and brushed rudely past. She and I had never been friendly (I thought that anyone who had a goal of sleeping with the entire soccer team and bragging about it had some major issues!). I came back up to my dorm room and she was waiting for me. Curious, I asked her what she wanted. She said: "I am going to steal your boyfriend...you are too fat and ugly to deserve him!" I was appalled. I had been polite to her...and I didn't warrant this treatment. I brushed it off (even though the comment about my appearance was still stinging.) PK loved me....she was just jealous!
During summer break, PK decided to attend the same college I was attending. He and I had our first fight. I felt that he really wanted to go to Hope and was choosing Alma because I was there. I did not want to be a reason for regret. He ended up at Alma and things went very well...for a while. I enjoyed having my boyfriend on campus and we spent what time our busy schedules would allow together. Second semester he decided to rush a fraternity....and he started talking about us getting married! Shortly after that, things began to change. He started to become distant and I figured he needed a little room...we were young...college changes you. He even ditched my birthday because he wanted to hang out at the "house"....I was pissed and I talked to him about it. He said, give me a month to think about things. I figured we were done. I was upset. Three weeks later he came back and apologized. Things went back to the way they were during the good times. I felt surer of our love than ever before. We had made it through some changes. A month before school was done....he started to completely ignore me. I was so confused....I asked him to go on a walk with me.... Surprisingly, he agreed. I asked him what was going on and he told me that he didn't want to be with me anymore. I was shocked and hurt! I tried to stop the tears...but I couldn't. I wanted to be so strong.... I asked him why he chose this....he said "You don't deserve to know".
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Slut-Walks
In January a Toronto police officer was talking to a bunch of college students on safety. He said something to the effect of: "I’ve been told I shouldn’t say this, but, to avoid being raped or victimized, one of the safety tips was for women not to dress like sluts." A series of protests known as SlutWalks, sparked by the officer's flippant comments is taking root all over the world. It has been noted that o rganizers use the world slut because that was the officer's choice of words....to protest what a woman wears in no means offers an invitation.... Some women and men protest dress in jeans and T-shirts, while others wear provocative or revealing outfits to bring attention to "slut-shaming," or shaming women for being sexual, and the treatment of sexual assault victims....but this goes much, much deeper.
What scares and saddens me is that this cop has no clue what rape or sexual harassment is about. It is not about the lack of self control that people with penises seem to have (from his statement and historically). Truthfully over the centuries much has been done to restrict men's "views" of women to protect THEM from the inability of men to HELP THEMSELVES. Apparently men are weak creatures indeed. "Oh no! I have seen her ankles! Now I must take her. I cannot control this!" Really, lets give the male gender some credit here. First, most rapes occur irregardless of what the victim is wearing. Often she knows her attacker...and 99% of the time rape is about power and control....not about sex. A Federal Commission on Crima dn Violence Study found that only 4.4% (that is right folks, less than 5%) of ALL reported rapes involved provocative behavior ( as simple as a glance) on the part of the victim....INCLUDING her clothing! AND most convicted rapists do not remember what their victims were wearing! So Mr. Toronto Police Officer....thank you for furthering a silly gender stereotype...it drew attention to the fact that we have a long long way to go!
and really I could not resist this last picture....for solidarity....maybe I should show of the "girls" more often... LOL
What scares and saddens me is that this cop has no clue what rape or sexual harassment is about. It is not about the lack of self control that people with penises seem to have (from his statement and historically). Truthfully over the centuries much has been done to restrict men's "views" of women to protect THEM from the inability of men to HELP THEMSELVES. Apparently men are weak creatures indeed. "Oh no! I have seen her ankles! Now I must take her. I cannot control this!" Really, lets give the male gender some credit here. First, most rapes occur irregardless of what the victim is wearing. Often she knows her attacker...and 99% of the time rape is about power and control....not about sex. A Federal Commission on Crima dn Violence Study found that only 4.4% (that is right folks, less than 5%) of ALL reported rapes involved provocative behavior ( as simple as a glance) on the part of the victim....INCLUDING her clothing! AND most convicted rapists do not remember what their victims were wearing! So Mr. Toronto Police Officer....thank you for furthering a silly gender stereotype...it drew attention to the fact that we have a long long way to go!
and really I could not resist this last picture....for solidarity....maybe I should show of the "girls" more often... LOL
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Autopsy File #103
Since the beginning of freshman year...I hadn't even bothered to "look" at a boy. My friends were enamored by the fact that I knew so many hot guys (former teammates)...and they couldn't figure out how I found absolutely none of them even remotely appealing. Besides... I was busy. I continued to play softball, volunteered at the library and Boys & Girls Club, got a job and was in many, many (very nerdy) afterschool groups. (I mean really nerdy: Science Olympiad, Odyssey of the Mind, French Club, Key Club, Masquers Club, etc...too bad there wasn't an A/V Club.... lol) I was rising the ranks of Key Club. By my junior year I was vice-president and the albino was treasurer. We had worked together on many projects. He was very shy, smart, funny and kinda cute...and I confided in a friend that liked him. (is there a pill for this disease?) I didn't plan on doing anything about it...I wanted to remain friends. Inadvertently, she let the cat out of the bag....
This became another instance of the whole "men and women can't be friends" issue. Immediately, he began avoiding me...and I let him. I had hoped we would remain friends, but we no longer worked on any projects together (his choice) and there was no extra conversations after the meetings. I was disappointed...and dejected. I began to think that there was something wrong with me....
This became another instance of the whole "men and women can't be friends" issue. Immediately, he began avoiding me...and I let him. I had hoped we would remain friends, but we no longer worked on any projects together (his choice) and there was no extra conversations after the meetings. I was disappointed...and dejected. I began to think that there was something wrong with me....
Monday, June 27, 2011
The Infamous Pretzel-Sheep
What exactly is a Pretzel-Sheep? It is my term for the way I feel that women are expected to be today. We are mired in double standards, communication impasses and interact with potential partners whom have a complete lack of chivalrous training... in some ways this could be a backlash to feminism (more about that in a later blog). I use this term to describe the experiences where men tell me that they feel that I am "too much" or "not enough" because I do not react in an inane pre-ascertained manner and that my behavior is not decipherable within the confines of the game....
They want me to bend and shape myself into something that I am not...or they want me to follow them blindly (just because they are the man), not having my own opinion. Yet, my guy friends are frustrated when the women they date have no spine! You can't have it both ways!
newsflash! I don't play the game! I don't understand the rules! I have no sense of the correct timing! I missed that class....and you know after the last few years of dating...I often feel that missing that class is a good thing...especially since it equates to the retention of my spine!
-- Kate Reddy from "I Don't Know How She Does It by Allison Pearson
They want me to bend and shape myself into something that I am not...or they want me to follow them blindly (just because they are the man), not having my own opinion. Yet, my guy friends are frustrated when the women they date have no spine! You can't have it both ways!
newsflash! I don't play the game! I don't understand the rules! I have no sense of the correct timing! I missed that class....and you know after the last few years of dating...I often feel that missing that class is a good thing...especially since it equates to the retention of my spine!
...when you act like one of the boys they call you abrasive and difficult, so you act like a woman and they say you're emotional and difficult. Difficult being their word for everything that's not them."
And here is the kicker....what I want sometimes seems mutually exclusive and is often described as wanting it both ways....I want to have a spine AND not be judged on my choice/ability to compromise (a spine is not rigid and can bend when necessary); I want to be respected AND cherished; I want to remain strong AND be able to be a puddle of mush when I need to; I want equality AND romance; I want appreciation AND to be able to help without fear of reprisal....I want someone who can keep up with my brain AND the ability to not understand something without being judged....
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Autopsy File #102
So after my self-imposed hiatus from boys, I found myself crushing again. It is a sickness....I thought I had been in remission!
In the summer between 8th and 9th grades...I was befriended the sister of one of my brother's All*Star teammates. All the other girls were mean and catty and more into what they were wearing and the boys than into the game. I had already decided boys were not worth my time....and besides...I love baseball! It is my all time favorite spectator sport! I especially love minor league games... Anyway, I was glad to have someone to chat with while I watched the games. Her brother, the baseballer, was one of the few teammates who was nice to us. He would come over and talk on occasion. One day I noticed that he had gorgeous brown eyes. So despite my boycott (apt word!) I started to crush. All summer long she and I spent time at each other's houses...I got to know her brother better...it was great. She also admitted to having a crush on my brother...it was fun to pretend that maybe one day we could be sisters (how young I was! the thoughts that go through a young girl's head).
By the middle of summer we had decided that we would do something to get each other's brother to notice us. We agreed on notes that we would bring home. After delivery, my brother responded to her that she was a nice girl, but...he was not interested. The baseballer, on the other hand, ignored my letter. I was sad. What was worse, is that his sister stopped talking to me altogether. When I asked her what was going on, she admitted that she didn't really like me and only wanted to get closer to my brother! I was shocked! I learned later that this is part of that class that I missed....I could not fathom befriending someone for the sole purpose of advancing one's dating career. I prefer to be real...to be real friends without some hidden agenda...otherwise it is manipulation. (I will note that this is different than being polite/friendly to someone in the group of friends that you do not like. This is good social practice.)
To make matters worse. When I arrived at my first soccer practice...the boys...my teammates....began to make fun of me. Apparently the baseballer had told his friends what I had done! I was embarrassed. I wanted to quit soccer altogether. They were mean. I took a deep breath and decided to not let them spoil my fun (it was my favorite sport to play)...and it eventually blew over. That was a rough year for soccer...and I had decided that I would not play next year (after having been the only girl in the league for 3 years)...I started to feel like I didn't belong...I learned to act like one of the guys, but hated it when they forgot I was a girl. When school started the baseballer pretended I didn't exist.
From this experience I learned two things. First, if you are friends with a boy and you like him and he doesn't feel the same way....the friendship is basically over. It is just too uncomfortable or something. Secondly, many girls are catty, competitive and manipulative. When it comes to boys, their motivation is often not to be trusted. I am pretty sure, looking back through my adult eyes, that this was definitely a major subject in that class I missed! I never learned the "art" of female competitiveness. And I don't think this is a bad thing....I believe people should be treated respectfully...because...well...that is what I want too! :)
In the summer between 8th and 9th grades...I was befriended the sister of one of my brother's All*Star teammates. All the other girls were mean and catty and more into what they were wearing and the boys than into the game. I had already decided boys were not worth my time....and besides...I love baseball! It is my all time favorite spectator sport! I especially love minor league games... Anyway, I was glad to have someone to chat with while I watched the games. Her brother, the baseballer, was one of the few teammates who was nice to us. He would come over and talk on occasion. One day I noticed that he had gorgeous brown eyes. So despite my boycott (apt word!) I started to crush. All summer long she and I spent time at each other's houses...I got to know her brother better...it was great. She also admitted to having a crush on my brother...it was fun to pretend that maybe one day we could be sisters (how young I was! the thoughts that go through a young girl's head).
By the middle of summer we had decided that we would do something to get each other's brother to notice us. We agreed on notes that we would bring home. After delivery, my brother responded to her that she was a nice girl, but...he was not interested. The baseballer, on the other hand, ignored my letter. I was sad. What was worse, is that his sister stopped talking to me altogether. When I asked her what was going on, she admitted that she didn't really like me and only wanted to get closer to my brother! I was shocked! I learned later that this is part of that class that I missed....I could not fathom befriending someone for the sole purpose of advancing one's dating career. I prefer to be real...to be real friends without some hidden agenda...otherwise it is manipulation. (I will note that this is different than being polite/friendly to someone in the group of friends that you do not like. This is good social practice.)
To make matters worse. When I arrived at my first soccer practice...the boys...my teammates....began to make fun of me. Apparently the baseballer had told his friends what I had done! I was embarrassed. I wanted to quit soccer altogether. They were mean. I took a deep breath and decided to not let them spoil my fun (it was my favorite sport to play)...and it eventually blew over. That was a rough year for soccer...and I had decided that I would not play next year (after having been the only girl in the league for 3 years)...I started to feel like I didn't belong...I learned to act like one of the guys, but hated it when they forgot I was a girl. When school started the baseballer pretended I didn't exist.
From this experience I learned two things. First, if you are friends with a boy and you like him and he doesn't feel the same way....the friendship is basically over. It is just too uncomfortable or something. Secondly, many girls are catty, competitive and manipulative. When it comes to boys, their motivation is often not to be trusted. I am pretty sure, looking back through my adult eyes, that this was definitely a major subject in that class I missed! I never learned the "art" of female competitiveness. And I don't think this is a bad thing....I believe people should be treated respectfully...because...well...that is what I want too! :)
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Autopsy File #101
When I started thinking about how I am learning to balance my values, I decided that I need to explore the past to understand the present. So...a la High Fidelity...I will attempt to recall to the best of my ability....hopefully it will resemble historical accuracy :) note: I will not be searching them down to talk to them.... LOL
Let's begin at the beginning....
The Hockey Nut was my first crush. It was seventh grade. I had been playing sports with the boys for a few years and I didn't see them as anything but teammates....not as hot junior high boys (as the rest of my friends saw them) :) Then something changed...in my class of 17 kids...there was this older boy.... He had beautiful black curly hair that he could never seem to control....and the most beautiful blue eyes adorned with long lashes (you know the ones that girls are jealous about...)...he was funny and he played hockey. I like hockey...everything about the sport fascinates me....the ice...how they can play in skates...the violence.... My family does not care for hockey....so the hockey nut was perfect to talk to about the games I followed!
(As a side note...even at the age of 13, I thought goalies were the most intriguing of players...but what I couldn't appreciate at that age was: what else that level of skill and flexibility means. What hot-blooded American woman doesn't get a little twinge in the nether-regions when they think of what goalies can do on the ice...and how that translates to the bedroom!) The hockey nut was not a goalie. I can't recall the position he played....but that is nether here nor there...
When it was time for the one dance that was allowed at Catholic school...I was so excited! I was hoping that he would ask me to dance! I had on my favorite dress and attempted to tame my hair...As a disclaimer...the boys tended to use the girls they danced with as battering rams...running the girls into each other...nonetheless...I wanted to dance. I sat under the watchful eye of the head nun with all the other girls...one by one the other girls were asked to dance. The hockey nut had asked Amanda to dance and I was disappointed...but we still had an hour to go. The time came and went....it was the last song. I tried to keep positive...and then....he came over and asked me to dance! I was ecstatic! My first dance! The hockey nut didn't talk to me....he tried to run me into other girls....then it was over and he walked away! What a confusing experience! At the end of the day we were getting ready to leave and I saw my brother with the hockey nut. They seemed engrossed in conversation...I was intrigued. When my brother came over he wouldn't tell me what they talked about. I was angry...but I focused on the fact that I had my very first dance!
The next day there seemed to be a rumor going around...I talked to my classmates to find out the news. They wouldn't tell me. Finally at lunch time I found out what all the fuss was about. My brother had paid the hockey nut to dance with me! He had to pay him $5 to get him to do it! I was mortified! I know my brother meant well.... but... So, the hockey nut didn't even like me. I heard through the grape vine that he thought I was too fat and brainy. I was very discouraged!
This experience definitely shaped my interactions with the opposite sex. I felt that I wasn't pretty enough or desired (in fact it seemed that my brother tended to agree--since he had to persuade someone otherwise).... and that my brain (which I am so proud of) was actually a detriment. So I decided that boys were stupid and if they couldn't handle someone smarter than them...then that it was their issue! I wouldn't even look at a boy in the "more-than-a-friend" way for over a year.....
Let's begin at the beginning....
The Hockey Nut was my first crush. It was seventh grade. I had been playing sports with the boys for a few years and I didn't see them as anything but teammates....not as hot junior high boys (as the rest of my friends saw them) :) Then something changed...in my class of 17 kids...there was this older boy.... He had beautiful black curly hair that he could never seem to control....and the most beautiful blue eyes adorned with long lashes (you know the ones that girls are jealous about...)...he was funny and he played hockey. I like hockey...everything about the sport fascinates me....the ice...how they can play in skates...the violence.... My family does not care for hockey....so the hockey nut was perfect to talk to about the games I followed!
(As a side note...even at the age of 13, I thought goalies were the most intriguing of players...but what I couldn't appreciate at that age was: what else that level of skill and flexibility means. What hot-blooded American woman doesn't get a little twinge in the nether-regions when they think of what goalies can do on the ice...and how that translates to the bedroom!) The hockey nut was not a goalie. I can't recall the position he played....but that is nether here nor there...
When it was time for the one dance that was allowed at Catholic school...I was so excited! I was hoping that he would ask me to dance! I had on my favorite dress and attempted to tame my hair...As a disclaimer...the boys tended to use the girls they danced with as battering rams...running the girls into each other...nonetheless...I wanted to dance. I sat under the watchful eye of the head nun with all the other girls...one by one the other girls were asked to dance. The hockey nut had asked Amanda to dance and I was disappointed...but we still had an hour to go. The time came and went....it was the last song. I tried to keep positive...and then....he came over and asked me to dance! I was ecstatic! My first dance! The hockey nut didn't talk to me....he tried to run me into other girls....then it was over and he walked away! What a confusing experience! At the end of the day we were getting ready to leave and I saw my brother with the hockey nut. They seemed engrossed in conversation...I was intrigued. When my brother came over he wouldn't tell me what they talked about. I was angry...but I focused on the fact that I had my very first dance!
The next day there seemed to be a rumor going around...I talked to my classmates to find out the news. They wouldn't tell me. Finally at lunch time I found out what all the fuss was about. My brother had paid the hockey nut to dance with me! He had to pay him $5 to get him to do it! I was mortified! I know my brother meant well.... but... So, the hockey nut didn't even like me. I heard through the grape vine that he thought I was too fat and brainy. I was very discouraged!
This experience definitely shaped my interactions with the opposite sex. I felt that I wasn't pretty enough or desired (in fact it seemed that my brother tended to agree--since he had to persuade someone otherwise).... and that my brain (which I am so proud of) was actually a detriment. So I decided that boys were stupid and if they couldn't handle someone smarter than them...then that it was their issue! I wouldn't even look at a boy in the "more-than-a-friend" way for over a year.....
Friday, June 24, 2011
How I grew up to be a Femi-Nazi
I think that I may have always had feminist tendencies....but I remember clearly the day I crossed the line and became one....
I have always been fascinated by what my pa does in the barn...he fixes things, makes things, tinkers....I learned early on that while my family is very egalitarian...there are some things that are in the realm of women and some in the realm of men. My parents shared cooking and yard maintenance duties, while my mom did most of the cleaning (pa helped out a lot) and my pa did all of the fixing and vehicle things.... What my pa did was much more fascinating to me than the cleaning...so I pushed to be his helper while learning (unbeknownst to me) gender roles.
Fast forward to when I was about 13. My brother was trying out for the "Raiders" youth football team. I am, and always have been, a huge football fan! I pushed and pushed to get to try out...if my brother was doing it...why can't I? I learned that they wouldn't let me even try out! There are no girls in football! I was already the only girl in the entire soccer league, let alone my team. But no...they wouldn't let me. I had over heard the coach talking to my father..."...size, probably would have to be center...but with her brother as quarterback..." the next thing was my pa's emphatic "NO"...and that was it. No football for me (my mom was worried I would get hurt anyway). I have to give my pa credit here...he actually considered it... As a side note...it was years before it dawned on me what the issue with the center/quarterback was....oh yeah...remember I missed that class....
Ever closer to the line...at age 15 I argued with my father nearly incessantly about the fact that my fourteen year old brother could start the vehicle and move it around the driveway or drive it at camp...I was the one who was in driver's training....I thought this supremely unfair! I could not figure out for the life of me how have a penis made it easier/better to drive! I still don't! Does the appendage somehow help with steering? I have never seen evidence of it....and yet the stereotype that men are better drivers persists today. I know awful drivers of both genders...and they are awful for different reasons....but should not be driving nonetheless....
The final push to the femi-nazi camp was when I was sixteen years old. I had just received my driver's license and was driving into town all by myself. It was winter and the roads were really icy. I was driving the "green-machine" my father's massive full size work truck that I adored. I was nervous, so I was driving quite slowly. I remember that I had been going 15 in a 45....I am about halfway to town when this car comes around a sharper corner too fast and completely loses control of his vehicle about a quarter mile a head of me. I take my foot off the gas and begin pumping my brakes...he is in MY lane! The truck is sliding a little, but I keep it under control...the vehicle is still careening toward me. At about a hundred feet away, I make a decision...I am going to try to pull off the road into a driveway...I hit the brakes harder...bracing for a head on collision...I begin to swerve and hit a patch of ice and fishtail into the deep ditch at the other side of the road. I wasn't hit! The truck is on it's side and I cannot unbuckle myself from the seat belt from which I am hanging. The neighbors who witnessed the whole thing help me out of my vehicle, call my father and the police. When I get out I expect the other vehicle to be there too. It is not. I am very shaken up....realizing that I probably would have hit the windshield had it not been for the seat belt. The police officer arrives and speaks with the witnesses, my father and then me.
My mother has bundled me into the car and my pa is towing out the truck. Pa comes back and hands me a ticket from the police officer...I read it...it says I was going too fast for road conditions! I am angry! I go to the cop and ask him how fast I should have been going...and how else I should have reacted. He is aware that there was another vehicle and I avoided a head on collision. He just tells me I am too fast...nothing more. My father, knowing how I get when I defend myself against things I find unfair...pulls me off to the side and speaks with the cop. He refuses to talk about it until we get home. I ask him what the cop said. After a few minutes of cajoling he finally tells me. The cop gave me a ticket because: GIRLS SHOULD NOT BE DRIVING TRUCKS. THEY CAN'T HANDLE THEM! He also told my father to get me a little car. I am furious! I did the best I could with my limited driving skills and the MAN that caused the accident got away with it...even though the witnesses explained the whole story! They saw the other driver lose control and me avoid the collision.
That was it...just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside does not make me any less of a person....I crossed the line....I became a feminist...or femi-nazi as I have been called. I would do many things over the years to prove a point that in this day and age...women are still treated unfairly. I agree with equality to a point..there are some things we will never be equal in (I can grow life inside of me)...but there should be no reason that I can't try to do something based on my gender!
I have always been fascinated by what my pa does in the barn...he fixes things, makes things, tinkers....I learned early on that while my family is very egalitarian...there are some things that are in the realm of women and some in the realm of men. My parents shared cooking and yard maintenance duties, while my mom did most of the cleaning (pa helped out a lot) and my pa did all of the fixing and vehicle things.... What my pa did was much more fascinating to me than the cleaning...so I pushed to be his helper while learning (unbeknownst to me) gender roles.
Fast forward to when I was about 13. My brother was trying out for the "Raiders" youth football team. I am, and always have been, a huge football fan! I pushed and pushed to get to try out...if my brother was doing it...why can't I? I learned that they wouldn't let me even try out! There are no girls in football! I was already the only girl in the entire soccer league, let alone my team. But no...they wouldn't let me. I had over heard the coach talking to my father..."...size, probably would have to be center...but with her brother as quarterback..." the next thing was my pa's emphatic "NO"...and that was it. No football for me (my mom was worried I would get hurt anyway). I have to give my pa credit here...he actually considered it... As a side note...it was years before it dawned on me what the issue with the center/quarterback was....oh yeah...remember I missed that class....
Ever closer to the line...at age 15 I argued with my father nearly incessantly about the fact that my fourteen year old brother could start the vehicle and move it around the driveway or drive it at camp...I was the one who was in driver's training....I thought this supremely unfair! I could not figure out for the life of me how have a penis made it easier/better to drive! I still don't! Does the appendage somehow help with steering? I have never seen evidence of it....and yet the stereotype that men are better drivers persists today. I know awful drivers of both genders...and they are awful for different reasons....but should not be driving nonetheless....
The final push to the femi-nazi camp was when I was sixteen years old. I had just received my driver's license and was driving into town all by myself. It was winter and the roads were really icy. I was driving the "green-machine" my father's massive full size work truck that I adored. I was nervous, so I was driving quite slowly. I remember that I had been going 15 in a 45....I am about halfway to town when this car comes around a sharper corner too fast and completely loses control of his vehicle about a quarter mile a head of me. I take my foot off the gas and begin pumping my brakes...he is in MY lane! The truck is sliding a little, but I keep it under control...the vehicle is still careening toward me. At about a hundred feet away, I make a decision...I am going to try to pull off the road into a driveway...I hit the brakes harder...bracing for a head on collision...I begin to swerve and hit a patch of ice and fishtail into the deep ditch at the other side of the road. I wasn't hit! The truck is on it's side and I cannot unbuckle myself from the seat belt from which I am hanging. The neighbors who witnessed the whole thing help me out of my vehicle, call my father and the police. When I get out I expect the other vehicle to be there too. It is not. I am very shaken up....realizing that I probably would have hit the windshield had it not been for the seat belt. The police officer arrives and speaks with the witnesses, my father and then me.
My mother has bundled me into the car and my pa is towing out the truck. Pa comes back and hands me a ticket from the police officer...I read it...it says I was going too fast for road conditions! I am angry! I go to the cop and ask him how fast I should have been going...and how else I should have reacted. He is aware that there was another vehicle and I avoided a head on collision. He just tells me I am too fast...nothing more. My father, knowing how I get when I defend myself against things I find unfair...pulls me off to the side and speaks with the cop. He refuses to talk about it until we get home. I ask him what the cop said. After a few minutes of cajoling he finally tells me. The cop gave me a ticket because: GIRLS SHOULD NOT BE DRIVING TRUCKS. THEY CAN'T HANDLE THEM! He also told my father to get me a little car. I am furious! I did the best I could with my limited driving skills and the MAN that caused the accident got away with it...even though the witnesses explained the whole story! They saw the other driver lose control and me avoid the collision.
That was it...just because my reproductive organs are on the inside instead of the outside does not make me any less of a person....I crossed the line....I became a feminist...or femi-nazi as I have been called. I would do many things over the years to prove a point that in this day and age...women are still treated unfairly. I agree with equality to a point..there are some things we will never be equal in (I can grow life inside of me)...but there should be no reason that I can't try to do something based on my gender!
Thursday, June 23, 2011
A case in point....
So what class am I speaking of, you ask? The class that teaches women how to play "the game"...how to use their feminine wiles....and most importantly how to translate the language and behavior of people with penises--and persuade them in your direction. You know...the class where they show episodes of a program (a la the deer watching show on the outdoor network) where some women are whispering (so not as to frighten) while deciphering the behavior of some men in the wild...and going after the kill....
Actually, that class probably started in Junior High....it seems to nowadays....but...even if I knew it existed, at the time I wouldn't have signed up based on the reason that I find it hard to get past the ridiculousness of not being yourself, playing games and conniving your way into "getting a guy" when he should have had the balls to go after you....because isn't that the the law of nature? Men are peacocks...the peahen chooses the worthiest....not the other way around....but as I have aged, I have realized...the peahen has her part in the mating ritual too....I have been so femi-nazi that I didn't learn how to play my part....
I have learned some things from my experiences, but the application of this education has been hit or miss.... At the beginning of this year I made a commitment to myself to become more positive....not to assume that people are attacking me....as part of this process I evaluated many things. I have always found it difficult to balance my values with my needs....and sometimes I vascilate between feminist and doormat...and I wanted to try to find the middle-ground that makes me happy. I have learned that is difficult for people with penises to understand that a strong woman can most certainly take care of herself, but still wants comfort, safety and a hero at the end of the day. And this is the bane of my current femi-nazi soul: Having a spine makes you undesirable as men want softer women...but if you show your softer side via the methods learned in class, you feel like a doormat! And while I am perfectly capable of living without a man...I find that I would prefer not to... (and while I am loathe to admit it...I do need the help of a big, strong man). For all of the complication and headache that they are....they still excite me!
So...the biggest issue with missing that class is that I am expected to behave in the manner taught... as it is assumed that I have graduated from "charm school". While I am grappling with my throwing out the baby with the bathwater...I am trying to take remedial classes. To illustrate my point, I will give my current favorite example of interaction with the confounding sex.
To start with some background: I met "the Lumberjack" (I will use nicknames to protect the innocent) because he was a friend of one of my friends' husband (what a mouthful--"that's what she said" comes to mind...eek!). She had mentioned the lumberjack two years previous....but I was not interested in meeting any of her husband's friends because I was not particularly fond of him (the husband). We met at a bar during one of my visits to set up the bookstore. I will save full first impressions for later...but it is worth mentioning that he blew me away. We became Facebook friends and e-mailed regularly. Through e-mail I got the impression from several statements that he was only interested in being just friends. I have been down this road many, many times. I know how it goes--so I prepared myself. When I moved back to my hometown to open the store he asked me to join his volleyball team. After our first practice some of the team went to the bar to celebrate our pathetic playing abilities.
While at the bar, another volleyball player decided that she wanted some action and put her foot in the lumberjack's crotch! I am sitting next to him and he texts me to tell me what is happening. My first thought is: "what am I supposed to do about it? I am pretty sure that if he didn't want it there...it wouldn't be there!" I shrug my shoulders and the night goes on....with two more texts about it. Again, I keep thinking to myself: "What does he want me to do about this? He keeps mentioning it....am I missing something?....he seems like a man who can handle himself!" At the end of the night, it is just he and I left....and we stand outside the bar to chat. He AGAIN brings up the foot-in-the-crotch incident...I am completely confused at this point, so he draws me a picture (on my arm--who brings a pen to the bar??) to show me that she was mad because I was being a cock-blocker! I am appalled at this! (My understanding of cock-blocker, at the time, is a woman who teases at the bar (or wherever) and after she gets what she wants (free drinks, whatnot), she leaves the guy hanging with no intention of following through what she alluded to). This is not something that I aspire to! So at this point ...I tell him "I wasn't trying to be one!"
The next day I was talking to one of my married friends and I relayed the previous nights events... and my vexation. I had come to the conclusion that I had to figure out how to check my behavior....I wanted to at minimum maintain my friendship with the lumberjack and I was afraid that I had done something to harm that friendship--he told me I was blocking him, after all!
What she told me blew my mind! Her take on the whole evening was that he was hitting on me! I said "WHAT?!? how is that possible? how can being considered a cock-blocker be a come-on?" THEN she explains it to me: He was trying to tell me that I was blocking the other girl's advances because he and I were engrossed in conversation--interested. He told me about her foot for me to react to it--maybe with jealousy or territoriality or something. I am even more confounded by this...sure I was jealous that he didn't stop her (he must have been enjoying it)...but what is the point of acting on it? First, it wasn't my place--we were not involved. Second, what is the point of being jealous? ....I am not going to beg and plead and I am not going to compete. If you don't want me...you don't want me, end of story.
As I attempted to wrap my brain around this particular explanation, I decide to get some other opinions. After all, not everyone translates things the same way....and is this REALLY how it is?...being called something so vile as a means to show interest? What ever happened to asking me out on a date? The two other friends that I confided in, said basically the same thing! I was in the twilight zone! ...and I asked how do you KNOW that is what he was trying to do? they told me that is how guys are....huh? I just totally misread it! Huh?!?
I have no idea what he was really thinking, nor would I imagine I will ever know....or even if my friends were right...but by the power of the majority of my (successfully dating/married) friends...I was deemed yet again totally clueless....because I missed that class in high school!
...so this is my journey...I will explore the past to understand the present....and maybe, just maybe... this femi-nazi will get her fairy tale ending, chivalrous prince and all!
Actually, that class probably started in Junior High....it seems to nowadays....but...even if I knew it existed, at the time I wouldn't have signed up based on the reason that I find it hard to get past the ridiculousness of not being yourself, playing games and conniving your way into "getting a guy" when he should have had the balls to go after you....because isn't that the the law of nature? Men are peacocks...the peahen chooses the worthiest....not the other way around....but as I have aged, I have realized...the peahen has her part in the mating ritual too....I have been so femi-nazi that I didn't learn how to play my part....
I have learned some things from my experiences, but the application of this education has been hit or miss.... At the beginning of this year I made a commitment to myself to become more positive....not to assume that people are attacking me....as part of this process I evaluated many things. I have always found it difficult to balance my values with my needs....and sometimes I vascilate between feminist and doormat...and I wanted to try to find the middle-ground that makes me happy. I have learned that is difficult for people with penises to understand that a strong woman can most certainly take care of herself, but still wants comfort, safety and a hero at the end of the day. And this is the bane of my current femi-nazi soul: Having a spine makes you undesirable as men want softer women...but if you show your softer side via the methods learned in class, you feel like a doormat! And while I am perfectly capable of living without a man...I find that I would prefer not to... (and while I am loathe to admit it...I do need the help of a big, strong man). For all of the complication and headache that they are....they still excite me!
So...the biggest issue with missing that class is that I am expected to behave in the manner taught... as it is assumed that I have graduated from "charm school". While I am grappling with my throwing out the baby with the bathwater...I am trying to take remedial classes. To illustrate my point, I will give my current favorite example of interaction with the confounding sex.
To start with some background: I met "the Lumberjack" (I will use nicknames to protect the innocent) because he was a friend of one of my friends' husband (what a mouthful--"that's what she said" comes to mind...eek!). She had mentioned the lumberjack two years previous....but I was not interested in meeting any of her husband's friends because I was not particularly fond of him (the husband). We met at a bar during one of my visits to set up the bookstore. I will save full first impressions for later...but it is worth mentioning that he blew me away. We became Facebook friends and e-mailed regularly. Through e-mail I got the impression from several statements that he was only interested in being just friends. I have been down this road many, many times. I know how it goes--so I prepared myself. When I moved back to my hometown to open the store he asked me to join his volleyball team. After our first practice some of the team went to the bar to celebrate our pathetic playing abilities.
While at the bar, another volleyball player decided that she wanted some action and put her foot in the lumberjack's crotch! I am sitting next to him and he texts me to tell me what is happening. My first thought is: "what am I supposed to do about it? I am pretty sure that if he didn't want it there...it wouldn't be there!" I shrug my shoulders and the night goes on....with two more texts about it. Again, I keep thinking to myself: "What does he want me to do about this? He keeps mentioning it....am I missing something?....he seems like a man who can handle himself!" At the end of the night, it is just he and I left....and we stand outside the bar to chat. He AGAIN brings up the foot-in-the-crotch incident...I am completely confused at this point, so he draws me a picture (on my arm--who brings a pen to the bar??) to show me that she was mad because I was being a cock-blocker! I am appalled at this! (My understanding of cock-blocker, at the time, is a woman who teases at the bar (or wherever) and after she gets what she wants (free drinks, whatnot), she leaves the guy hanging with no intention of following through what she alluded to). This is not something that I aspire to! So at this point ...I tell him "I wasn't trying to be one!"
The next day I was talking to one of my married friends and I relayed the previous nights events... and my vexation. I had come to the conclusion that I had to figure out how to check my behavior....I wanted to at minimum maintain my friendship with the lumberjack and I was afraid that I had done something to harm that friendship--he told me I was blocking him, after all!
What she told me blew my mind! Her take on the whole evening was that he was hitting on me! I said "WHAT?!? how is that possible? how can being considered a cock-blocker be a come-on?" THEN she explains it to me: He was trying to tell me that I was blocking the other girl's advances because he and I were engrossed in conversation--interested. He told me about her foot for me to react to it--maybe with jealousy or territoriality or something. I am even more confounded by this...sure I was jealous that he didn't stop her (he must have been enjoying it)...but what is the point of acting on it? First, it wasn't my place--we were not involved. Second, what is the point of being jealous? ....I am not going to beg and plead and I am not going to compete. If you don't want me...you don't want me, end of story.
As I attempted to wrap my brain around this particular explanation, I decide to get some other opinions. After all, not everyone translates things the same way....and is this REALLY how it is?...being called something so vile as a means to show interest? What ever happened to asking me out on a date? The two other friends that I confided in, said basically the same thing! I was in the twilight zone! ...and I asked how do you KNOW that is what he was trying to do? they told me that is how guys are....huh? I just totally misread it! Huh?!?
I have no idea what he was really thinking, nor would I imagine I will ever know....or even if my friends were right...but by the power of the majority of my (successfully dating/married) friends...I was deemed yet again totally clueless....because I missed that class in high school!
...so this is my journey...I will explore the past to understand the present....and maybe, just maybe... this femi-nazi will get her fairy tale ending, chivalrous prince and all!
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Seriously?
Vagazzle??
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=vagazzle
REALLY!!?? it is not an urban legend apparently!
I happen to have the book in the store....take a look....she WROTE about it!!
According to the Urban Dictionary: "The act of bedazzling your vagina (blinging your beaver), per the instructions of Jennifer Love Hewitt on the Lopez Show.
To really get someone's attention, you can color-coordinate your Vagazzle to your outfit."
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=vagazzle
REALLY!!?? it is not an urban legend apparently!
I happen to have the book in the store....take a look....she WROTE about it!!
Skirts on Bikes
 |
| image via New Amsterdam Bicycle Show |
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
If a tree falls...
For a long time I mocked bloggers....the masses of lonely, overwired people spewing out their opinions and the minutia of their lives over all of those poor unsuspecting 3am insomniacs...
Now I have decided to become one of them. I did this for the most immature of reasons...someone pissed me off! I was told I should write a femi-nazi blog...because I have something to say (and apparently the forum I was using was inappropriate). But then I thought: So who really cares?
And thus it comes to the age old question: if a tree falls in the woods with no one around...does it make a sound? I always thought...of course it does! (what a silly philosophical question we try to wrap the 5% of our brains around!) It does not matter if there is a human around to hear it. Just because we think we are this supreme life form does not negate what happens around us...or because of us. The tree still existed. It still fell. Energy was released...there was still sound. Unless you believe this interesting post. Overall I think as a species we think of ourselves as over-important....just because we can reason and communicate, etc. And yet...I can think of several examples where this may not be the case.... I think Douglas Adams was onto something....the dolphins are really the ones with the supreme brains here....but I digress.
So...what's the point of this blog? It is simple: I don't understand relationships between men and women. It baffles my puny melon daily. This goes far deeper than my femi-nazi tendencies (which I am sure I will rant about frequently in the posts to come). But really, I feel like I am on a train speeding past...trying to decipher the blur I got a glimpse of. So....I write because I am clueless. I might be more educated if I hadn't missed that class in high school...
Now I have decided to become one of them. I did this for the most immature of reasons...someone pissed me off! I was told I should write a femi-nazi blog...because I have something to say (and apparently the forum I was using was inappropriate). But then I thought: So who really cares?
And thus it comes to the age old question: if a tree falls in the woods with no one around...does it make a sound? I always thought...of course it does! (what a silly philosophical question we try to wrap the 5% of our brains around!) It does not matter if there is a human around to hear it. Just because we think we are this supreme life form does not negate what happens around us...or because of us. The tree still existed. It still fell. Energy was released...there was still sound. Unless you believe this interesting post. Overall I think as a species we think of ourselves as over-important....just because we can reason and communicate, etc. And yet...I can think of several examples where this may not be the case.... I think Douglas Adams was onto something....the dolphins are really the ones with the supreme brains here....but I digress.
So...what's the point of this blog? It is simple: I don't understand relationships between men and women. It baffles my puny melon daily. This goes far deeper than my femi-nazi tendencies (which I am sure I will rant about frequently in the posts to come). But really, I feel like I am on a train speeding past...trying to decipher the blur I got a glimpse of. So....I write because I am clueless. I might be more educated if I hadn't missed that class in high school...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)