Because I assume that all eight of my sexy readers are personal friends (except those two guys who wound up here by keyword search after I blogged about 2girls1cup and the primary debates, and I'm guessing that was a one-hit thing), you've probably heard me utter this phrase once or twice before. But seriously. What the fuck IS wrong w/people?
Several years ago, I was in NYC on a date gone slightly awry with an old girlfriend-ish person from out west. We wound up at some crappy bar in the East Village where I, in an effort to build some sort of emotional blockade between me and her, struck up a quite chummy conversation with an ad executive.
Of course, he and I had ZERO in common, and I think ad guys are as gross as my date did, and I was particularly disturbed by the fact that one of the products he was shilling for was Bratz dolls.
Anyway, I was kind of drunk and getting a kick out of disregarding my date's desire to keep it intimate -- in my defense, she had done a lot of shit that, at least in my mind, totally warranted my behavior -- and got a little manic and cheerfully went OFF on this guy, kicking my new strappy platform-clad feet onto the stool between us and explaining how while it was wonderful for grown women to creatively engage with the outside world in part, by way of sexy clothing, war paint and accessories, that it was perverse to peddle a dumbed-down, sickly version of femme to small children, and that most disgusting about his work to me was how it evidenced the fact that our society not only peddles sex so cheaply, but that it's more about the money than the sex (let alone the respect for femme).
I went on to argue that whatever he was making on that campaign was worth less than my self-assuredness that, nearing the end of grad school, I would soon be getting paid, however pitifully, for doing good work in the world. That my gender and my sexuality were still mine, in spite of millions of images that twist it around and try to force-feed a beaten-up version of it back to me, and also worth more than this stupid ass system that would let a sexless white men like him to make millions off a cheap, phantomy, bland impression of femme identity. In short, that he was in the wrong business and would be better off making less money but doing good work and being kinky and smart.
My final piece of evidence against him was the fact that it was 2am on a weeknight at a bar in NYC and he was still wearing an unimpressive suit jacket. As I wrapped up my argument, I demanded that he pull his tie out from his jacket pocket and surrender it to me, which he did. I wore it as a belt for awhile and briefly entertained the idea of making that my schtick, letting gross rich guys buy me drinks and give me their ties while I told them how stupid they were, maybe making a book with the ties, but I never did.
Anyway. I'm not sure why this is the perfect example for how I'm feeling today, but I will say two more things, then send you off to think about me giving that adman whatfor:
1. It's not like me to engage with the opposition. I generally loathe to engage with anybody I suspect might hold radically different viewpoints from mine. But I know that I need to learn to, and I hope that more activists will, too, because it seems to help get things done. It's just as lame of me to assume that a person hasn't any humanity or lacks the ability to understand my point of view as it is for them to do the same to me, and it's even lamer of me to judge people who wear khaki. (I'm working on it -- I think it's PTSD from living in DC during the Bush Administration)
2. On the other hand, it's not lame of me to get pissed at shitfucks like that guy whose tie I stole, because their priorities are fucked, and they're fucking the rest of us. How does that guy sleep at night. How can our government pass a stimulus plan that lets these piece of shit bankers wipe their asses with our money and continue to ride the backs of the poor, meanwhile kicking them out of their fucking houses. How can a CEO knowingly distribute a food product contaminated with salmonella to millions of people and show his fucking face in court, let alone plead the 5th? How do people wear khakis???
I guess I just feel like I should be engaging more, with the opposition as well as people engaged in the same fight, but things (globally, politically) are so gross that I can't even see how. And I guess right now I'm just not feeling the wonder of my hotness (maybe I should take a shower :) or anything else. Surely, it'll pass, but in the meantime, send a girl some wonder, guys. Remind me how hot you are, what cool shit you're up to. Puh-lease, help me balance the wonder of the sexy and creative and SMART against the the greedy and boring.
Tell me something good. I would do the same for you.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
She is risen!
Yoo hoo...is anybody out there?
Alright then. Turns out that when I'm not getting paid for it, I'm an incredibly inconsistent blogger. What the heck. I'm good at lots of other stuff.
All the same, I'm not throwing in the towel yet. For those of you who are interested, here's what we've been up to (to be followed, within a few months, by either another random bit of "what we've been doing" or maybe, just maybe, some snarky political commentary, or a viral video that hasn't yet been taken down):
Let me see. I took a long trip out west in September, which included a whirlwind work trip to San Francisco followed by nearly 3 weeks "back home" in Washington State. I can hardly remember that trip now, except that I ate a lot of good food, my new nose ring got infected as a result of a sunburn, which caused me to get an ugly sunhat and I was incredibly stressed out by the election (thank goodness that went the way it did, although I'd have to say that I'm as disappointed as anyone by Obama's cabinet picks and especially this Rick Warren shit). I was also torn up by the fact that one of my brothers (top secret: my favorite) spent all but the very last day of my visit there in an in-patient rehab facility in Mississippi. I picked him up at the airport the night before the night before I left, and he delivered me back to the airport about 36 hrs later. The good news is, he introduced me to my newest musical love, Tim Fite, (in Philly Feb 21 and DC the 28th -- come with us!) and he was still clean when I came home for the holidays.
I got back from Washington on a Wednesday late in September, which is noteworthy because Mr. Man and I moved into a new place THAT WEEKEND. Talk about a tough move. Although Mr. Man did his best to pack up before I got back, there was a mountain of shit to do, and the move put quite a strain on our already-pretty-strained relationship. Mr. Man had just started back at school, and I was swamped at work, so things were just...tough. I'll spare you the details, sexy readers, and flash forward a few months to the weekend before Thanksgiving, when we found two couches for $20 and $40 respectively, which we had delivered (AND the old couch removed from the front porch, where it'd sat since we discovered on moving day that it wouldn't fit through the front door) for a song at $40 plus a $20 tip.
We're now roughly 75% unpacked, which is pretty good, I'd say, considering the fact that we never even got most of our artwork onto the walls of our depressing old place. We've encouraged (read: forced) ourselves along the way by hosting a few small parties.
The best news about the new place:
1. It has a huge yard. I mean, huge. Plenty of room for lots of veggies, maybe even a few laying hens.
2. The landlady, a belly-dancer, is a saint so far. Our dryer (see #3) went shithouse on us the other night and she immediately started making plans to buy us a new one. Compared to the old landlord, we can hardly believe she's real.
3. It's got a washer and dryer. In the unfinished basement, which has plenty of room for our extra crap.
4. It's ridiculously cute. Ok. It's a little quirky, but mostly adorable.
5. It's in a great neighborhood, within walking distance of several of our friends, three amazing restaurants and a couple of decent bars.
Now for the bad news about the new place:
1. That huge yard is full of ticks. I just pulled one off the dog the other day, but when we moved in, I was pulling dozens off of her. Turns out that in spite of having a normally high tolerance for most things gross, I've got a weak spot for ticks.
2. Our bedroom and my office both have two of the most hideous paint jobs I've ever seen.
3. We've got mice. This is especially bad news for the devil cat, because we're rationing her meals until she kills them for us.
Three to five ain't bad, huh?
Aside from all that, we're relieved to have weathered what was a pretty tough year. And we're doing quite well romantically. Better than we've done for any stretch of time since we moved here. We've been fucking, not quite like bunnies, but almost like we did before we left NYC.
And I think we're each doing much better personally. Mr. Man is still on somewhat of an academic vacay, and although he's been stressing a little about work, he is lightyears more relaxed than he was before I went out to Washington for the holidays. As for me, I spent nearly a week off-line during that trip and have decided it suited me quite well and that 09 will be the year that I work less, garden more and do more for myself, like yoga and swimming and walking the dog and taking baths and fucking my boyfriend and making more friends in the Charm but also getting up to see my friends in NYC more, too.
There's so much else. Mr. Man went back on T, which we were nervous about but so far seems to be treating him just dandy, maybe even better than that. He's getting hairy, which I think is adorable, and other than that, actually seems more relaxed. The dog really does have arthritis, which is maybe better than having Lyme's disease, which was what I thought she had the first time it hit her hard enough to put her down (not "put her down"). $500 later, we've got it figured out and now she's on a regimen that is serving her well enough that she's playing some frisbee and doing lots of stalking of the cat. We haven't converted the car yet but in spite of a few minor fixes, she is a peach.
So. By and large, things are super good, which, I realize, probably places us in the top 1% luckiest folks on earth, considering the half million Americans who lost their jobs in November, the 1 billion who stand to go hungry worldwide in 09, and the poor Palestinians who are getting the shit bombed out of them as I type this. It might sound stupid, but I'm hellbent on channeling my energy into putting positive vibes (and positive work, a la peace march rather than anti-war demonstration, if you catch my drift) into the world, doing my best to roll my anger and stress off and do good instead of sitting around bitching.
We'll see how it goes when my/our luck takes a turn for the worse, which it inevitably will, because, as my daddy says, "the good old days for one guy are the shit days for somebody else." For now, though, I'm rolling with it.
PS. We're crazy enough to be heading down to the Inauguration, which, according to my handy Hightower countdown clock, is in less than two weeks! If you're that crazy too, give a girl a call and let's hook up.
Alright then. Turns out that when I'm not getting paid for it, I'm an incredibly inconsistent blogger. What the heck. I'm good at lots of other stuff.
All the same, I'm not throwing in the towel yet. For those of you who are interested, here's what we've been up to (to be followed, within a few months, by either another random bit of "what we've been doing" or maybe, just maybe, some snarky political commentary, or a viral video that hasn't yet been taken down):
Let me see. I took a long trip out west in September, which included a whirlwind work trip to San Francisco followed by nearly 3 weeks "back home" in Washington State. I can hardly remember that trip now, except that I ate a lot of good food, my new nose ring got infected as a result of a sunburn, which caused me to get an ugly sunhat and I was incredibly stressed out by the election (thank goodness that went the way it did, although I'd have to say that I'm as disappointed as anyone by Obama's cabinet picks and especially this Rick Warren shit). I was also torn up by the fact that one of my brothers (top secret: my favorite) spent all but the very last day of my visit there in an in-patient rehab facility in Mississippi. I picked him up at the airport the night before the night before I left, and he delivered me back to the airport about 36 hrs later. The good news is, he introduced me to my newest musical love, Tim Fite, (in Philly Feb 21 and DC the 28th -- come with us!) and he was still clean when I came home for the holidays.
I got back from Washington on a Wednesday late in September, which is noteworthy because Mr. Man and I moved into a new place THAT WEEKEND. Talk about a tough move. Although Mr. Man did his best to pack up before I got back, there was a mountain of shit to do, and the move put quite a strain on our already-pretty-strained relationship. Mr. Man had just started back at school, and I was swamped at work, so things were just...tough. I'll spare you the details, sexy readers, and flash forward a few months to the weekend before Thanksgiving, when we found two couches for $20 and $40 respectively, which we had delivered (AND the old couch removed from the front porch, where it'd sat since we discovered on moving day that it wouldn't fit through the front door) for a song at $40 plus a $20 tip.
We're now roughly 75% unpacked, which is pretty good, I'd say, considering the fact that we never even got most of our artwork onto the walls of our depressing old place. We've encouraged (read: forced) ourselves along the way by hosting a few small parties.
The best news about the new place:
1. It has a huge yard. I mean, huge. Plenty of room for lots of veggies, maybe even a few laying hens.
2. The landlady, a belly-dancer, is a saint so far. Our dryer (see #3) went shithouse on us the other night and she immediately started making plans to buy us a new one. Compared to the old landlord, we can hardly believe she's real.
3. It's got a washer and dryer. In the unfinished basement, which has plenty of room for our extra crap.
4. It's ridiculously cute. Ok. It's a little quirky, but mostly adorable.
5. It's in a great neighborhood, within walking distance of several of our friends, three amazing restaurants and a couple of decent bars.
Now for the bad news about the new place:
1. That huge yard is full of ticks. I just pulled one off the dog the other day, but when we moved in, I was pulling dozens off of her. Turns out that in spite of having a normally high tolerance for most things gross, I've got a weak spot for ticks.
2. Our bedroom and my office both have two of the most hideous paint jobs I've ever seen.
3. We've got mice. This is especially bad news for the devil cat, because we're rationing her meals until she kills them for us.
Three to five ain't bad, huh?
Aside from all that, we're relieved to have weathered what was a pretty tough year. And we're doing quite well romantically. Better than we've done for any stretch of time since we moved here. We've been fucking, not quite like bunnies, but almost like we did before we left NYC.
And I think we're each doing much better personally. Mr. Man is still on somewhat of an academic vacay, and although he's been stressing a little about work, he is lightyears more relaxed than he was before I went out to Washington for the holidays. As for me, I spent nearly a week off-line during that trip and have decided it suited me quite well and that 09 will be the year that I work less, garden more and do more for myself, like yoga and swimming and walking the dog and taking baths and fucking my boyfriend and making more friends in the Charm but also getting up to see my friends in NYC more, too.
There's so much else. Mr. Man went back on T, which we were nervous about but so far seems to be treating him just dandy, maybe even better than that. He's getting hairy, which I think is adorable, and other than that, actually seems more relaxed. The dog really does have arthritis, which is maybe better than having Lyme's disease, which was what I thought she had the first time it hit her hard enough to put her down (not "put her down"). $500 later, we've got it figured out and now she's on a regimen that is serving her well enough that she's playing some frisbee and doing lots of stalking of the cat. We haven't converted the car yet but in spite of a few minor fixes, she is a peach.
So. By and large, things are super good, which, I realize, probably places us in the top 1% luckiest folks on earth, considering the half million Americans who lost their jobs in November, the 1 billion who stand to go hungry worldwide in 09, and the poor Palestinians who are getting the shit bombed out of them as I type this. It might sound stupid, but I'm hellbent on channeling my energy into putting positive vibes (and positive work, a la peace march rather than anti-war demonstration, if you catch my drift) into the world, doing my best to roll my anger and stress off and do good instead of sitting around bitching.
We'll see how it goes when my/our luck takes a turn for the worse, which it inevitably will, because, as my daddy says, "the good old days for one guy are the shit days for somebody else." For now, though, I'm rolling with it.
PS. We're crazy enough to be heading down to the Inauguration, which, according to my handy Hightower countdown clock, is in less than two weeks! If you're that crazy too, give a girl a call and let's hook up.
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