Monday, April 28, 2008

Monday Discussion

Cross-posted from This is Rape consider the statement:
"Consent is more attributed than exercised" taken from the study Sexual Boundaries: An Examination of the Importance of Talking Before Touching

Post comments at the other site to maintain dialogue.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

At least I'm a "cute" baby eater...

your blog is taking heavy criticism from my right-wing friends
i had dinner with them tonight

well was it a well informed conversation?

Aliza Shvarts was the next topic of conversation
Jim and Pam** (from the NYE party) were present, and they took your side with me
that you're actually a good person, with intelligent rational views on feminism
Pam said you were cute and seemed intelligent

and the rest said what? i was fat and illiterate?

no, Jack Cashill* wasn't too open minded about your blogs apparently
as he brought up that fox news article immediately afterward
thinking that was the end-all-be-all of feminism

all feminists play with aborted fetus juice

yeah, something to that effect
I'd like to see the two of you in the same room together
you're both really awesome people
with EXTREMELY different views
I don't think he's met someone who can explain it well (like you)
he just sees that feminists kill their fetuses for art projects and sort of assumes that's the main line you all toe
it's obviously not fair nor open-minded
but he really needs to meet someone like you to convince him otherwise I think

**Names changed to protect the innocent
*Not his real identity

Monday, April 21, 2008

i think im more like fred savage from wonder years

and you are like jenny from forest gump

Kate Rohdenburg
ok then what's my sitcom?

darleen from roseanne

Intellectual Crushes

30 minutes long and awesome!

Sunday, April 20, 2008


It was a glorious weekend for thrift store books. My collection now includes:

Our Bodies, Ourselves for the New Century - Boston Women's Health Book Collective (1998)
Black Like Me - John Howard Griffin (1960)
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte (1847)
The Winter of Our Discontent - John Steinbeck (1961)
Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck (1937)
The Picture of Dorian Gray and Other Stories - Oscar Wilde (1890s)
Poems - Maya Angelou (1969-1983)
Wouldn't Take Nothing for my Journey Now - Maya Angelou (1993)
The Sun Also Rises - Ernest Hemingway (1926)
Little Women - Louisa May Alcott (1868)
Hunger Pains; The Modern Women's Tragic Quest for Thinness - Mary Pipher, Ph.D. (1995)
White Oleander - Janet Fitch (1999)

All that and a purple leather belt for less than $10. I'm going to need some more cinder blocks...

Saturday, April 19, 2008


There's a boy that runs with some of my pals in the UV. We've been out at the same watering hole a time or two. He noticed I have a dog - he too has a dog. He's uses this commonality as often as possible. Recently he's been using this commonality at 2 am asking if I'm around and if he can "come see Rusty". Last night after one such text it struck me like a thunderbolt: I just got booty-called! I am stupid and naive and had written such previous texts off as drunk dialing. But he's not drunk dialing, he doesn't want to chat, he doesn't want to meet up and have some drinks - he wants some booty. And he's operating via texts and use of my beloved dog. So inappropriate! I am a LADY for crying out loud.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Mission: Step to the right.

A girl who's in love with the world

Last weekend I spent 5 hours in the ER with two teenaged girls and the boyfriend that drove them to the hospital after a gang rape at a party.

Later that day in seemingly unrelated news I joined The Couch Surfing Project. The idea is kind of like hitch hiking in the cyber age. You make a profile, list your location and then when traveling can look up people at given destination and ask to crash on their couch (or go to coffee, get a tour etc).

So far everyone's reaction has been "way to sign yourself up to get Raped and killed by a psycho predator". And so far my response has been "I could be Raped at any given party on any given Friday night at a house of a close friend. Why fake a sense of security when actually a woman's twice as likely to be assaulted by an acquaintance.

I'll prefer to be in love with the world. There's only so much one can do - and then there but for the grace...

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Abby Bead!

Our Assistant Director makes glass beads. They are incredible. Every time one comes out that reminds her of a person, she gives the person the bead. She's been saying that she can't figure out my colors/bead aura and therefore I have been anxiously awaiting my official glass induction for 7 months. Today I got my bead and I am now an official WWW (Wonderful Woman of WISE).

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her.
- Oscar Wilde

Monday, April 7, 2008

That place

me: my bff is in moscow until the end of july
me: we're really hitting the miss you mark
she left in Jan
adina: the miss you mark? the like its really ridiculous you've been gone so long, jokes over, come back now place?
me: yes
that's the place

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Some Like It Hot

With the coming of spring I've learned several things about the previous resident of my apartment:

The cat may be gone but the smell of urine revisits like a ghost when you least expect it.

Having the dog poop in the boxed off "yard" under the birch was used as an excuse not to clean it up.

The porch which Ryan astutely recognized as the perfect smoking spot was indeed used as such by smokers of the sort that hate the environment and thus take out their hostility by spurning it with butts.

The space was made for costume dance parties.

Unrelated: having now been a paying member of a gym for the last 5 months (and having the guilt of wasted money combat my naturally lazy demeanor) all I have to show for my hard work and dedication is a more prominent ass.

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Gift of Fear

By Gavin de Becker

I imagine this conversation after a stranger is told no by a woman he has approached:

Man: What a bitch. What's your problem, lady? I was just trying to offer a little help to a pretty woman. What are you so paranoid about?

Woman: You're right. I shouldn't be wary. I'm overreacting about nothing. I mean, just because a man makes an unsolicited and persistent approach in an underground parking lot in a society where crimes against women have risen four times faster than the general crime rate, and three out of four women will suffer a violent crime; and just because I've personally heard horror stories from every female friend I've ever had; and just because I have to consider where I park, where I walk, whom I talk to, and whom I date in the context of whether someone will kill me or rape me or scare me half to death; and just because several times a week someone makes an inappropriate remark, stares at me, harasses me, follows me or drives alonside my care pacing me; and just because I have to deal with the apartment manager who gives me the creeps for reasons I haven't figure out, yet I can tell by the way he looks at me that given an opportunity he'd do something that would get us both on the evening news; and just because these are life-and-death issues most men know nothing about so that I'm made to feel foolish for being cautious even though I live at the center of a swirl of possible hazards doesn't mean a woman should be wary of a stranger who ignores the word "no." [original emphasis]


At core, men are afraid women will laugh at them, while at core, women are afraid men will kill them.

Thursday, April 3, 2008


You can’t get out of the sex class just by saying you’re out of it. Saying “no” to uncouth boys in preparation for heterosexual marriage (heterosexual marriage is the basic unit of patriarchy) and calling it “empowering” is no different from saying “yes” to uncouth boys in preparation for a BDSM three-way and calling that “empowering.” In trying to liberate themselves from what they have rationally identified as the constraints of the sex class mandate, both the virgin and the sex blogger actually capitulate by continuing to define themselves in terms of sex (Fredell even aligns herself with pornulists when she describes virginity as “extremely alluring”). Note that control of the concept of sex is not up to either of them. That pleasure falls strictly within the purview of the male-dominated social order. Thus, in a patriarchy, all sex, gay or straight, marital, pre-, or abstained-from, is dudesex.

That’s the thing about patriarchy. It does the defining, not you. That’s what makes it the dominant paradigm. You can abstain from sex, you can fuck your way across the universe, you can be a stone butch dyke with a utility belt, you can get your boobs amputated and your uterus ripped out, you can be sex-neutral in your own crackpot mind, you can be ugly or hawt, you can be the Democrats’ presidential nominee, you can even age out of desirability, but you will always be defined in terms of, and used according to, that which the dominant culture describes as your essence: sex. Or, as you are alternately defined: a receptacle for the perpetuation of male supremacy.

Twisty obviously.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Picture this:

I'm listening to the Across the Universe soundtrack (all Beatles, all rockin') in the most 60's floral floor length polyester night gown you've ever seen, + bra and sweatshirt (and sweatpants's cold!), pink goggles (to protect from the monster onion) and a gemstone hair tie makin' dinner, drinking cream soda+brandy in a martini glass.

I'm pretending to be a self-medicating 60's single dog-lady wannabe housewife.

+pink goggles.

Warm Fuzzy