You know what bugs me?

Gendered nursery design.

Really? I mean, really? This child that just slid out of your birth canal OBVIOUSLY won't like pink and will like orange and brown because it happens to (apparently) have a Y chromosome?

This bugs me. Maybe more than it should given ALL THE OTHER THINGS that should be bugging me, but still. I read a lot of shelter blogs.

a reminder to The World:

Sometimes, emotion is a rational response.

If you insult me, my anger is not irrational. It is very rational, it is very real, and it is not a reason for you to cease listening to me.

Rationality and emotion are not mutually exclusive, people.

I wonder if this hatred of "emotion" and love of "ration" is related to the equally false mind/body dichotomy? Emotions are felt bodily, therefore they must be separate from and less than the good and rational mind. Men are rational, mind-oriented, women are irrational and body-oriented. Emotion is also bad because it is womanly--so women are bad because they are "emotional," and emotions are bad because they are "womanly," and it all goes in a big nasty circle until I want to grab the next man I talk to who says I'm being irrational and shake him till his big manly brain rattles around in his big manly skull.

And this is an ENTIRELY RATIONAL RESPONSE, people.

Rant brought to you by Tiger Beatdown and all the Freddies of the world.

[ETA five seconds later to add: "mansplaining" is my Word of the Year. Seriously, whoever made it up deserves a medal or something. In the shape of like, a dictionary with a dick.]

My dumb dude friends, as magically portrayed by A Softer World

A Softer World reads my mind, I swear.

Watching the news

Special on the news my aunt is watching this minute:

Reporter goes to a women's gym to horrify the 20- and 30-somethings exercising by telling them that, oh noes! by the age of thirty they only have 12% of their eggs left!

I can't quite pin down exactly what's so facepalmy about this.

Is it the assumption that all women want to have children? That was definitely there. The concern that the human race might come to an end because educated able-bodied white women aren't popping out babies? There was the whole "oh no, women are having careers instead of having babies" thing.

Meh. Just a moment of annoyance while I happened to be online.

Suckitude

Reasons last week sucked:

-Dumb argument with guy friends (see below)

-Sleep deprivation

-Tina Turner the Honda Accord has been making disturbing rattling, thumping noises.

-Annoying patients

-Coworkers disrespecting My Brother The Doctor

-Coworkers blaming me for "freaking out" over said disrespect

-Possible week before my period? Not sure, as I still haven't figured out exactly how I respond to the Pill.

-Dog my family has had since I was ten is steadily getting sicker.

Reasons This Week Has Sucked:

-Parents had the dog put down Monday morning; they and my brother stayed with her. I had to stay here for work.

-Coworkers continuing to argue.

-Coworker who regularly cheats on her husband with her ex-husband (who cheated on her) flips out because her husband may or may not be corresponding with someone who may or may not be another woman, and has been looking at cute girls on Myspace. Facepalmage ensues.

-Annoying patients

-Sleep deprivation

-Today, Tina's front tire almost falls off when I drive my mechanic coworker around to figure out what's wrong with her. It turns out that when my parents had a very trusted family business at home to replace my tires last month, they didn't tighten the lug nuts down enough. It's amazing my tire didn't come off when I was going 70 on the interstate to get back here after xmas. Coworker helps me get her down to a local tire place to replace the lug nuts, which are totally stripped, and they end up having to replace the entire wheel, which is bent and broken all to hell. Repairs cost close to $200.

-I remain vaguely irritated at my aunt, all the time, because she's nosy and nitpicky and thinks she's my mother, and she still hasn't cleared her stuff out of the apartment I was supposed to move into in August. And she refuses to work on it until I clean my room--that is, the tiny guestroom she's tried to squeeze me in for months, with no desk and tiny twin beds. And not enough storage because her stuff is still in all the dressers.

-I need to go to a dermatologist because I think the rosacea I've probably inherited from my parents is beginning to show symptoms, because my cheeks are really red and blotchy and flaky, and it's  But I'm not actually full-time so I don't have insurance right now. Which is freaking me out in general, really.

This is shaping up to be the Fortnight of Suck.

I am tired of my body betraying me. And vice versa.

I started on birth control recently, as the last few years my cycle has gotten less regular than, well, ever before (not counting the first few that I know I didn't keep good track of) and the accompanying cramps got worse. And well, it's nice to know that, should Wulfy and I decide to start having sex, I'm covered on the pregnancy front.

But this damn pill. Is killing me.

Even my worst cramps, the four-Advil-takes-the-edge-off, mommy-I-think-I'm-dying, ohgodowowowowow cramps, have only ever lasted one or two days. Until now.

owowowowowowowowow. For more than a week! And as I haven't even finished my first pack yet, I need to keep on this stuff long enough to find out if it will work long run, once my body gets used to it. I actually left work early today, even though I've been snowed in since Friday and missed even more days of work.

AND, my boobs are so swollen and tender, I can't wear my favorite bras--the cups are too little. I know I have said in the past that I would like to fill out an A cup, but I am so not sure about that right now.

I am so tired of feeling like my body and me are two separate entities fighting each other.

*blinkblink*

I am...appalled and disgusted.  You know what about.

And I'm a bit tense about going to work today because I work with a number of right-wingish people and I don't.  Want.  To hear it.  Thank god I don't have to go to my home church any time soon, too.  Or maybe not, maybe I should be raising some hell among the fuckers there I know will be cheering the murderer.

Argh.

Oh fer...

By the way, for whom it may concern... by Belle, including this link: Kali Ma.

Y'know, I'm pretty damn monotheistic, but even I have to admit that there are Forces out there that you shouldn't be screwing around with, and Kali is definitely one of them.

Goddess =/= Happy Fluffy Loving Mother Who's Automatically On Our Side.


Oh, and btw, in the link to info about Kali that Belle provides? "She is especially known in her Destroyer aspect, squatting over her dead consort, Shiva, devouring his entrails while her yoni sexually devours his lingam, penis." How much do I love that image? He doesn't penetrate her, oh no, she devours his penis with her vagina. How great is that.

Geez.

I found this through Ren...

And here's my response:





(artwork compliments of The Muffin)

I generally stay out of the Feminist Blog War because it makes my brain hurt. The cartoon in question is a case in point...as are this and this, by the same blogger.

In a post defending the latter comic, the author, Mary Tracy, says:

"I wish I could be a more positive person and use my abilities to help advance the feminist cause by bringing the spotlight to the people who are causing the real damage. I am aware of this, and, for what is worth, you have my word that I will try my best to change this aspect of myself."

Well gee, good job on that changing thing, I guess...

You know, I've seen some pretty nasty shit come from the "sex-pos" side and the "radfem" side...but it seems like more of it comes from the "radfem" side, from where I stand. And it seems to me like a lot of the time, the "radfem" side sticks its fingers in its ears and goes "lalalalaIcan'thearyoustupidwhore" when someone points out that they've said something insensitive, or hurtful, or sexist, or racist, or just downright wrong. And I won't say that the "sex-pos" folks don't do that too...just way less often.

And you know, even though I'm not really involved in all of it...I'm sick of it. Really. Cut it out. Whether or not you have hairy legs or wear makeup, or you hate porn or don't really mind it, or you have a boyfriend or not, doesn't mean you are or are not a feminist...in fact, IT'S NOT THE POINT OF FEMINISM AT ALL.

Women making choices, being in charge of their own lives, not having to be forced to stay at home or cover their faces lest they be stoned, not having to be scared to walk at night lest they be raped, not being trapped in abusive relationships because they can't support themselves, being able to get a good education or have a good job or sleep with someone or not sleep with someone if they want to, is the point.

And you know, if some of those choices include deciding to not watch porn or deciding to be a sex worker, so be it. But those choices are not the be-all-end-all of feminism.

Like my jerry-rigged cartoon says, there are more important things.

Geez.

*buuuuuh*

I've found lately that looking at fundamentalist Christian websites, books, videos, practices, etc, makes me feel dirty.

Buuuuuh, get it off me.

I grew up in a Southern Baptist church, I did the purity pledge thing, I went on mission trips. I "witnessed" to my friends (for those not familiar with weird xian jargon, to witness to somebody is to tell them about Jesus in the hopes that they'll decide to convert. Not necessarily as creepy as it sounds). But it never made me feel skeeved out, unclean, or intellectually violated like looking at the Purity Ball or Quiverfull or Mars Hill or what have you stuff does now.

The key difference is probably that my five-point Calvinist and seven-day creationist, yet uber-beloved youth pastor really, truly wanted us to think. Bring your Bibles with you to church, he said. Pray and think about what I'm telling you and what the other preachers and Sunday school teachers are telling you. If you don't agree with us, that's okay.

And sometimes (maybe a lot of the time), I disagreed with him, and that was okay. And when he decided he was wrong about something he had taught us, he told us, and apologized, and told us what he'd learned.

Looking back now, I can say I swallowed a little too much of his more conservative doctrine, but I did so of my own free will (pretty funny for the student of a Calvinist, eh?). And being taught to think about my shit made it, if not easy, at least not near-impossible to change my mind and learn and grow. And not having it shoved down my throat made it possible for me to see the love of the god I believe in, and return that love in my human and imperfect way. I can pretty accurately say that he was probably the biggest influence on what I believe, even if I don't believe in a lot of things he believes in. Here's to you, Mr. Youth Guy.

So feeling like I'm having some nasty, hateful doctrine forced upon me is actually a fairly new sensation, and it's totally grossing me out. Ew ew ew.

Delayed Creep-Out

As seems to be usual, I am behind. I just found out about Purity Balls.

Oh god, the creepy. The middle-aged dads, the dressed-up teenage girls, the vows (someone please tell the author of the vows that "cover" is a word for animal sex), the ring exchange...creepy creepy creepy.

Unfortunately, the video that seems to have sparked the discussion in 2006 has disappeared into the ether waves, but I rounded up some other pertinent links:

Would you pledge your virginity to your father? (Glamour magazine)

Purity Ball (short documentary following a father and daughter)

Hey Little Girl... (thoughtful vlog about the Balls)

Serious ew (belledame on the subject of creepy controlling sexuality, Purity Balls included)

Purity and Danger (Queen Emily on the dangers of daughters reserving their sexuality for their fathers)

*shudder*

I took an abstinence pledge in February 2002, which would have made me about 15, through the True Love Waits program.

I even got the ring, see:















I still have it--it doesn't fit anymore due to me inexplicably losing a ring size. I still wear a ring in it's place though, because it would feel seriously weird to not have one (and I need balance for the rings on the other hand).

But this whole virginity thing is wearing kind of thin. Though I was interested in boys when I made that pledge, it was basically the same sort of interest I'd felt since I was about five. This whole virginity thing seemed clear cut and easy, to a young girl who found the idea of kissing with tongue distasteful (ew, slobber).

And now, I'm old enough to do anything but rent a car, basically, and in a good relationship with a boy I love and trust and desire. And if I decide to marry this kid, it will be, oh, five years? of waiting before we're both done enough with school to be able to move to the same city on a more or less permanent basis and get our shit straight so we can get married. And five years of horny youth is a long time.

And, beyond that, I'm pretty much positive that it will be difficult for me to not clutch my "purity" with such a tight fist once I'm married. One gets used to the idea that Sex Is Bad.

(Note, in the Glamour article, one girl says she worries that she might disappoint her husband by not being pleasured by his fucking. Poor kid, won't even allow herself to worry about her own pleasure except for how it might displease her owner.)

I know a number of people who would be appalled at me not upholding abstinence-until-marriage as wonderful and Godly and something everyone should do. But neither they nor my father owns me, and they don't get to say what I believe anymore.

Before this post falls apart utterly (I have a headache forming and I'm tired), I would like to say that my parents didn't push me into the True Love Waits thing at all. In fact, I recall my mom seeming a bit reluctant to buy me that ring. I found that odd but didn't think about it at the time; I now figure it's because they knew it was kind of a dumb idea.

I honestly don't know how to title this.

One of my professors (oddly enough, Doctor is in the Science Department but this is a liberal arts course at a liberal arts school so they get all sorts of professors to teach it) had an interesting story in class yesterday.

You see, Dr's a chemist and a biophysicist (and maybe an MD, I either don't know or can't remember) and like a lot of sciencey people, Dr. has worked with various aspects of the medical industry, researching, developing, etc. And at one point Dr. worked for A Big Pharmaceutical Company developing a new treatment for breast cancer (I'm not sure if it's okay to tell the name of the eeeevil evil company so for now, it's BPC. But it wouldn't be too hard to figure out which one. It's a BIG one, after all).

Dr. worked on this treatment system for I believe about five years, funded of course the whole time by BPC. It took at least a year for Dr. to simply study the body system he was working with so it could be figured out how to deal with it--it's complicated stuff. But complicated or not, at the end of five years, Dr. had a product that everyone felt confident in--wow, they said, this has potential. This could save lives! This could really work!

And Dr. took it to the team's bosses in the Big Pharmaceutical Company for the final presentation, which was attended by a gray-haired man Dr. had never seen before, and therefore was obviously important. And Dr. gave the presentation.

And the gray-haired man said "Dr, this is some great work. We're really impressed with this product, you are amazing. But you see, women with breast cancer have this habit of dying before selling a nice new product like this to them becomes cost-effective. So we're going to shelve this wonderful product, we might pull it back out later but we just don't think it would be good for the company to produce right now. But I'm looking forward to reading your final dissertation, thanks."

And Dr. walked out of that room and that was the last time Dr. worked for the Big Pharmaceutical Company. And BPC is getting the product patented but not putting it into production; and Dr. is positive that if the product had been for, say, prostate cancer instead of breast cancer, the company would have rushed it into production, because it's run by gray-haired men, after all.




"Hello desk. It's nice to see you again."
"Oh, hello forehead! It's been so long since we've met."