Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Most of us have already heard about the fucked-up immigration bill (SB 1070) that was passed by Governor Brewer of
Here are two things you can do.
1) email Gov. Brewer at: email@example.com
(or CALL (602) 542-4331)
Here is what you can write (say):
We are all
Your law cannot break our spirit of community; your law will not stand. Racial profiling and racial discrimination are illegal and SB 1070 should be stopped.
(I’m going to add a P.S. that says: I was planning a trip to
Do it NOW. I know many times we say we will get to it and then we don’t. But it’s an easy thing to do. It takes 2 minutes at the max. So DO it, you’ll feel better about yourself. You will have done your good deed for the day.
2) Spread the word. Tell your friends and family to email too. Let’s max out the governors box and stop this bullshit. Really, we should know better by now.
To read more about the bill click here.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Last night on the television show House the main character the medical posse was trying to cure was a woman in an open marriage. And though there was plenty of questioning and debating between the staff and the staff’s personal connections with people outside the hospital I have to give the writers of the show props (this time) for not making her sexuality the reason for her illness, which is rare for a mainstream network. Usually when a person falls off the sexual “norm” path they ostracize her or him for their actions by being murdered or dying because of the “abnormality” or sexual choice that doesn’t fit within the networks capitalistic advertising focus (monogamous heteronormativity).
On the show the woman character finds sexual pleasure outside of her marriage, yet stays with her husband because she loves him and she believes they are not only open about their sexuality but are open and honest about other issues in their lives. Of course she finds out he is not trustworthy for reasons outside of the bedroom, which almost destroys their relationship, but it proves a point.
For a relationship to be strong there needs to be honesty and communication on all fronts (sexual, financial, spiritual, mental, etc), whether it’s a “regular” marriage, an open marriage, a partnership, a bf/gf, gf/gf, bf/bf, or whatever combination, or experience you’re personally going for. It’s not going to work out unless you talk to one another.
But, beyond that, I would like to take a moment to talk about monogamy because I do not believe it’s discussed enough as an option. Yes. An option. Everyone assumes it’s the only way to live. It’s more of a norm than heterosexuality. And I would just like to remind people that there is more out there if you so choose to discover it.
Monogamy works for many people and there is nothing wrong with it, as long as you’re not in a monogamous relationship just because you feel you need to be to fit in with the rest of society. But along with monogamy, there is of course, non-monogamy—which is pretty self explanatory and polyamory. Which I’d like to give a quick shout out to since it’s not so well understood. Poly (more than one) amory (love) = being in a loving relationship with more than one person. There are many combinations to how this can work—which would be a whole other blog post, but if you use your imagination I’m sure you can come up with some good ones.
Most people probably feel that they already have to put so much work and effort into just loving one other person, but that is often based on the capitalistic notion that you only have so much love to give. If we could move beyond our jealousies we would find many benefits to polyamory. To name a just a couple: the connections (mental, spiritual, emotional, sensual) with other souls and the deeper understanding of our own selves; which can develop in monogamy but can develop even further when we reach out to more people. It’s not so bad. We just have to work really hard to erase the notion that we all have only one “soulmate,” that we can only love one person at a time. Surely parents understand this as they have more children and realize that that type of love is endless—why can’t endless love be realistic in our personal relationships?
*On a personal side-note I am not in a polyamorous relationship…but that does not mean I have completely discarded the option…it’s definitely something worth discussing with your partner from time to time just to see where each of your needs; if they’re being fulfilled to their greatest potential or if one of you (or both) could use some assistance: )
Monday, April 26, 2010
I read an article awhile ago in the spring edition of Bitch Magazine. The article was about aging being “the ultimate cinematic horror” which is often played out literally in film. The article gave many examples and as a person who subscribes to Netflix I added them to my queue. Then I forgot I had added them.
A few days ago we received and watched the movie Dead Alive (1993) and OMG I wish I could turn back time. I am visually scared for life. I have seen graphic, disturbing movies before, but this is the all-time most grotesque, violent, bloody movie I have ever watched. I cannot believe there was no mention of how brutal and unsettling this film was. The article talked about how the mother Vera was the symbol for the destructive forces of aging but it forgets to mention how all the people get turned into zombies and how all the zombies eventually get destroyed—both of which are beyond sickening (skin tore off from body, limbs torn off from skin, zombie-baby in a blender, zombie-baby flies out of blender, but don’t worry—some other zombie’s head makes it in the blender for the ultimate shake, there is an zombie attack with a lawn mower that rips a multitude of bloody bodies across the screen, etc.).
I used to make light fun of my mom for always having nightmares after scary or even slightly thrilling movies, but I think if my mom saw this she’d have a heart attack before the movie even really began. My goddess. I mean seriously.
I had a nightmare afterward. It was about a soul-salesman. He worked for the devil. His job was to sell the people in hell’s souls to people on earth. I guess he could sell the whole soul or parts of it. In any case, he kept trying to get me to buy this one dude’s particular soul. I kept saying no, he kept insisting. Then the soul-salesman showed me the dude and I almost had a heart attack myself in my dreams. The dude was black, neckless, with a smushed, disproportioned face, he had blue eyes that bulged out of his sockets and were glazed over with white like marbles. And he kept staring at me with those creepy fucking eyes. The salesman kept hassling me. I kept shouting NO. I don’t want his soul. Leave me alone. It was rather annoying. And even after waking up I kept seeing the image of that guy. And I don’t really know what it means, but I just wanted to warn you all that soul-salesmen are out there.
If you see this movie it will fuck you up for life. If I could go back and take away those visual disturbances I would not hesitate for a moment to do so. I do not recommend this movie if you enjoy eating food, if you enjoy seeing more than just the color red when you watch films, or if you enjoy looking at people with their skin completely on their bodies.
I agree with the Bitch article author about the horrors of aging, I mean that theory is quite obvious, but I would have greatly appreciated more of a warning regarding the major puke-factor that this movie could bring its viewers. And all the nightmares that will potentially follow. . .
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Chicago Early Music Festival (today, maybe)
Road trip or metra to the Botanical Gardens AND stop at the
Bahai Temple in Evanston/Willmette
Celtic Festival May 8-9
International Mr. Leather or Touche May 28-31
Belmont/Sheffield Music Festival May 29-30
Osaka Japanese Gardens (at Wooded Island in Jackson Park)
See Jake Gyllenhaal in Prince of Persia @ Imax, comes out May 28st so anytime around then
Graduation + Road trip back to KS/CO for Will/Emilys wedding/apartment-search from June 12-24 ish…???
Pride June 25-27 (at least the parade)
First week of June is open!
Road trip to Milwaukee (July 4th weekend w/ EWH and Monica?)
Going Away Party
Find someone with a boat and go out on the lake
Friday, April 23, 2010
I’m aware that our society is over saturated with sex. From billboards, to commercials, to magazine articles boasting 5,486 ways to please your man, to television shows and movies where sex is part of the main plot line, we get it, sex exists (hence we do).
Yet, I feel there is a major blind-spot in our sexual consciousness. For example in the documentary This Film is Not Yet Rated, they discuss how the people who rate movies never let a film go by them without at least an R rating if there is a woman showing sexual pleasure, and if that woman shows it more than once, well, good luck getting it to pass the rating system at all.
What we are over saturated with is sexual abnormalities. We never get to see everyday sensuality or affection. On CSI and other like-minded shows, people get murdered if they’re remotely sexual perverse, or if they happen to be women. On Gossip Girl, 90210 etc. sex is always hot hot hot but never real real real. On shows like Parenthood, the characters go into great detail “talking” about their sex lives; they even get to the point where they start at it, but then BLACKOUT, flash-forward, next scene. The couple is happy, giggly even, “glowing”, they both just shared a romantic, intimate encounter, yet we as viewers have no idea how they connected, what made it special, what made them actually “glow”.
And yes, I can use my imagination. But isn’t it fucked up that we can see women brutally murdered, that we are reminded constantly about them being raped and molested, but we can’t see them having a pleasurable orgasm?
I am just so disturbed by this. The media, whether consciously or not, reinforces objectivity and let’s be honest, the acceptance of rape.
When positive affection, admiration, sensuality, personal pleasure (on both parties ends) are completely dismissed from our imagination we are left with negativity, we are left with puritanical values of keeping sex secretive. And though it may be hot to feel dirty, I think I’d rather have daily affection and a centered sensuality.
To be completely honest I do not really know what that looks like. I have to find it for myself which isn’t really very fair when I already know 5,486 ways to physically please my man. What about pleasing each other? What about deeper connection, because it’s not all about the big O.
If sex is supposed to happen as regularly as eating or brushing your teeth why do we never actually see it happen like that? We see people eating, we see people brushing their teeth. We all know what naked people look like, we all understand that our bodies need physical contact from other humans to feel connected to this world. So again, why can we blow bodies up, smash them to bits, cut them open, punch them, smack them, terrorize them, but we can’t caress them, cuddle with them, embrace them, love them?
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Rape Victims Advocates and the Feminist Creative Alliance presents: "Breaking the Silence" a benefit for Sexual Assault Awareness Month
The event will feature the performance group AQUA MOON as well as spoken word artists Sandra Posadas and Amber Lakes followed by an open mic forum.
April 22, 7 p.m.
Cafe Mestizo, 1738 W. 18th street
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Ok Rob, here's the deal. I am sick of seeing your face.
Also there are other more prominent things for people to learn, there are other events, stories, topics that the news could cover instead, but NO, Rob. We have to see your fucking face on the television AGAIN!
And can I just make a generalizing statement about Chicago politicians--is it just me or do they all pretty much look like children born with fetal alcohol syndrome? I mean, not only are we bombarded with these assholes images but these assholes are all really funny looking...and not in the haha way, but in the WOAH man, what happened to your face?--sort of way.
So Rob, why don't you do us all a favor for once and just disappear. We are over it. You suck. You're a spectacle. You are in no way helping your community anymore. So back up off, back down and step off.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
If any of you scholarly feminists out there in the world have not already thought of it I would find it fascinating to read a researched essay on these current media representations of motherhood. I find it especially interesting how in vintro fertilization is making it into plot lines (J-Lo’s new film The Back-up Plan), as well mother-carriers in the film Baby Mama staring Tina Fey as a woman who has Amy Poehler’s character carry her child for her (lots of layers of class and gender issues happening here). Not to mention all the reality tv shows and news incidents *thinking* octamom and Kate from Jon and Kate Plus 8, etc.
All I’m saying is that I would be interested in reading a feminist analysis of these media representations. I’m not interested in writing it because to be quite honest, motherhood is not my forte, in fact, motherhood generally just freaks me out, specifically the actual physical release of a child into this world. I really do not think I’ll ever be able to get over the fear of a large object being pushed out of my vagina. I am aware that millions of women have done it before but that does not necessarily mean that I need to or that I should. Just because I possess the capabilities to achieve or accomplish certain things does not mean I need to do them all.
This fact does not prevent me from wanting to hear the latest news on the subject. Because when it comes down to it, motherhood keeps the human world going round. And media shines a particular light, a light that should always be analyzed, deconstructed, and understood for its deeper implications and impact on how our society composes itself.
So readers, if any of you take on this subject or have taken on this subject already, please email me over your work, I’d love to read your take on it.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
We were in Ottawa IL yesterday for Elizabeth and Aaron’s wedding, afterward Monica, Ryan, Cortney, Tim and I all decided to go check out Starved Rock—we were ten minutes away, we really couldn’t not check it out.
We were all in dresses and dress shirts so we already looked and felt out of place walking around in the woods, but there were walking paths so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Or so I thought.
I believe Mother Nature has a way of always coming around at just the right time to put me back in place. A few weeks ago for example, I was making fun of white trash people and fat families while Ryan and I were sitting in the park and then a bee stung me. I’m sure I deserved that one.
Yesterday though, I wasn’t behaving too badly. I hadn’t really been making fun of anyone except myself for wearing a dress in the forest. But then I had to walk up a waterfall so I could look at the bigger waterfall behind that waterfall. It was spectacular. Almost awesome in the true sense of the word. I was wearing sandals but had taken them off and had walked up the waterfall just fine. Coming down was an entirely different story.
My life did not flash before my eyes. Though I think it should have. I could have easily died by slamming my head against the rocks, never to be my snappy anger-filled—critical self again, or I could have hit my head and turned into a totally new (mentally disabled) person in my old body. But alas, I made it out alive. (obviously)
So I was sliding down this waterfall. My ass hits the ice cold water my dress flies up, all the strangers stare. Their mouths hang open. They wait for my next move; they wait to see if I will move. In my mind I jump up out of the giant stone slide, but in reality I sort of fall back up like a 98 year old grandma would. The strangers are still staring.
“It’s okay. You can laugh,” I say. “If I saw someone fall I would.”
Then this dude says, “We just want to make sure you’re okay.
“Yeah I’m fine. Really.”
“Oh and you ruined your pretty dress.”
My pretty dress!
Do you think I really give a flying fuck about my dress right after I just almost DIED!!!!!! You’ve got to be kidding me.
I keep walking.
“It’s just a dress,” I say as I ring the water out. And move onward with my life. They’re all still staring. I would have preferred they laughed.
I will admit I was pretty shaken up. I think it was my pride that got hurt the most, but again that’s why Mother Nature is around to kick my ass sometimes. To remind me that I am not perfect. That I will fall. That I might dirty up my dress, but at least I will, as long as I am alive, always be willing to climb up the littler waterfall to see the bigger one. (even if it means a bruise or two.)
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thank you television for revealing the blatantly obvious reasons as to why men have stronger arms than women...
Who invented this?
I mean really. . .
And they let the video air without even thinking for one second that this looks like women giving hand jobs?
It only takes 6 minutes.
Fastest? Easiest? Most Effective?
It's a new technology called dynamic interia? Please. It's called WANKING OFF, and that is why women have flabbier arms... yet stronger hands, muhahaha!
WATCH IT HERE for a good old laugh...
Watch the parody here for a bigger laugh...
(I guess I am not the only perv watching tv)
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Chicago news today just proved itself again to be a manipulated, fucked up source of knowledge ran entirely by rich privileged (probably all-white and racist) assholes.
Because almost every day (from the spring to fall) that I have lived in Chicago (3 years) there has been some sort of protest downtown but the news never brings it up. Not even when the PETA people were running around in ridiculous fake furs acting like imbeciles.
But today. guess what we get to hear about?
The fucking tea party protest that was downtown. which didn’t really even have that many people at it. Why Did we get to hear about it? Because rich privileged (probably all white and racist) assholes run the tea party movement (and YOUR media sources).
The Taxed Enough Already Party is basically a bunch of libertarians. Which means they believe in neo-liberalism. Which is the practice of privatization and reliance on the free market.
This may sound good in theory but it takes away from publically funded groups, such as groups in healthcare, education and the arts. It also takes away government spending on roads, jails/prisons, and general maintenance of parks, streets, among other things and turns all of that over to private (rich privileged probably all-white racist assholes) people (industries) who, in turn, can do whatever the fuck they want because they privately own the companies (as we have seen in privatized jail systems where inmates get brutally beaten etc).
I do not like that the news mentions this party and this protest without really explaining the depths of what they want. The news makes the TEA Party seem like a vital, important group of people when in fact what they want is going to destroy the working class even more than it already is—if the tea party gets what it wants we are going to end up in an even deeper separation of rich and poor; middle class—don’t count on it.
Because the tea party is so full of rich people (and people who think if they join they will get the benefits and privileges of rich people) I become more and more nervous that we are not revolting in disgust at this organization, that few people are saying anything about what is BAD about what this party wants our society to look like.
As a society we will always look for ways to improve our lives, but taking away government assistance for the people who need it most is a travesty. Is it really that painful to pay a little more money to help one another out? Wouldn’t it be better to live in a world where the MAJORITY of people are happy and healthy and joyful than only a privileged minority?
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
We now see oppressions that keep us from reaching our true human potential, as systems that interlock with one another, so that racism and sexism and captialism and all other isms are tied in a tight knot with each other. This knot is almost impossible to undo.
I was watching this documentary on the Tibetan Book of the Dead and I started thinking about what I would need as a human to stay alive. At first, I thought if I have oxygen I'll be fine. But then I realized I could only stay alive so long with just oxygen that I'd also need water, and then I'd need food, etc.
There are interlocking systems that we need to stay alive--oxygen, water, food etc. we can not live very long without a combination of those, just like oppressions cannot live very long without the other oppression. I want to look at it this way. If we take the time to work on chipping away one the others will fall.
I'm not saying we should ignore one or the other, what I am saying is to hold on to your hope, to not think it is so overwhelming, or that the knot is too strong. Take away the food and they can only survive for a couple of weeks. Take away the water a few days. The oxygen a minute. That is all I'm saying.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
While I was standing in front of the mirror today straightening my hair I started to think about the fact that the only time I look at myself is when I'm trying to look better for other people. I spend quite a bit of time primping and prodding my body, my face, my hair and for who? For you I guess. Are you worth it? Do you deserve to always see me at my best? And why is my "best" an alteration of my natural state?
I've been watching season 3 of Mad Men. I'm also taking a pop lit./teaching cultural studies class and we're currently on the topic of media and technology. So I'd like to take a moment to critically examine.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Here's the deal, several people that I know and love dearly are getting married, or have gotten married recently. Today is not the day for me to go on my anti-marriage rant but besides me personally not wanting to do it if other people feel the need more power to them. And when I say more power to them, what I really mean is whether or not you're married or in some other sort of monogamous relationship it should be egalitarian. This does not mean that there is always perfect harmony, but it does mean that a balance is always sought after. It's sharing responsibilities both domestically and capitalistically; both cleaning, both getting some sort of income.
This does not mean that every month the chores have to be split right down the middle; if one of you actually enjoys washing dishes and the other one of you doesn't mind vacuuming then why trade?
An egalitarian relationship does not mean that you both have to bring in the exact same amount of income (because really how can anyone control that) but I do believe that bills should be split accordingly. If one of you eats more than the other one--that person should buy more groceries. If one of you is online more, or takes longer showers or whatever the case may be, balance it.
I do not find this theory hard to practice. I think it helps with the power dynamics of the relationship where no one feels they are taking advantage or being taken advantage of.
According to some statistic I read awhile ago: (sorry I am not going to go look it up for you because I memorized it.)
Married men live longer and are happier than single men.
Single women live longer and are happier than married women.
BUT people who live the longest and are the happiest are couples who practice having an egalitarian relationship.
(I do not know how they measured happiness, but I guess if the person in the study knew immediately that they were generally unhappy that would be a good clue. )
In any case, whether you decide to legalize your relationship through a government document or you just keep pushing on, I believe the way to a more complete existence is by always striving for harmony; whether it is achieve or not is up to the couple and the circumstances, but it can be done.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I haven't been blogging for that long. Not even a year. But I've already noticed my own writing habits, such as I think I'm going to write something everyday, thus I am really good at spitting something out at the beginning of the month, then the middle comes around and I slack...big time, so by the end of the month I hop back on the writing train so as not to disappoint myself by not doing what I told myself I would. But does it really matter, what we tell ourselves we're going to do? And why do we tell ourselves we're going to do these things? What is our obsession with doing? Why can't we just be. The only thing I can think of is that even on days when I don't think I have something to write about but then I make myself sit down and churn something out, on those days I often times end up with pretty interesting ideas or thoughts--thoughts that were lurking subconsciously just brewing, stirring, waiting for a day when they could gurgle out of me.
But why do I need to even get those thoughts out? Is it to better understand the world around me? Is it to connect to other humans through our interlocking word comprehension? And if words are our main source for communicating what if there is something we need to express beyond that? Obviously body language isn't read as easily by most--which is why I often exaggerate my postures or my eye rolls to get my point across better. Well. Are we just stuck with what we have then? 26 letters rearranged in different patterns over and over again to make one persons idea interchange between another. So that we are not left just looking at each other, grunting. But why these letters? Why these words? How is it that we can all be so compliant in our language? That we just let words be, that we rarely interrogate, investigate, negotiate their meanings, their symbolicalness.
Only really weird literary types sit around contemplating and arguing over the coolest word, the most annoying sounding word, the most beautiful, the most grotesque, the most spine-chilling.
When was the last time you said a word out loud repeatedly until it lost it's meaning?
Maybe we should all do that more often?
Here are some interesting words to think about:
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
When I really sit and think about it I don’t get most things. I don’t generally get art—paintings, sculptures, etc. most of the time I’m not sure what I’m supposed to take from a piece and more often than not I just hate it—and to be quite honest I do not feel that hating something makes it powerful or important or noteworthy—I usually hate something because I think it’s stupid or pointless not because it offends me—other than offending me by wasting my time. The same is true for writing. Particularly poetry. What the fuck is poetry anyway? Whatever. Maybe I’m just in a bad mood but sometimes I feel that people just throw words in a hat, take them out one by one and put the words in a structure they then call a poem (which come to think of it, I believe this is an actual form but I digress.
Word. Bird. Heart. Tree. Love. Hate. The in-between. Your in-between. In between your legs. You like it when I talk dirty. Poetry.
So I don’t get “high brow” art. Does anyone really? Isn’t everyone just pretending—even the people making it, I mean seriously.
The clouds smile when you eat mussels out of bowl, your bowels are bleeding skins. Eat my shit from my skin, smile like you enjoy trends. Carrots.
Speaking of pretending, I cannot begin to pretend to like most of the “low brow” shit I see on television, in the movies and now on youtube. Why is any of this funny? Why is this your entertainment?
I feel like I am really beginning to not like anything. Perhaps that is why I turn to food. Because food I can count on not to suck. I can eat an apple and know it’s going to taste like a fucking apple. Or cheese. Or chocolate.
Is it egotistical of me to not like anything?
Blanket, couch, your face in my mouth. Teapot steaming, you wish you were dreaming, why are you reading can’t you see the postmodern bullshit streaming from this, doesn’t it make you want to slit your wrists over and over again. Or maybe just fall in love. Ice cubes. On display in your panties.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Often times all the trouble and oppression in our world can feel overwhelming. The more one learns the more one feels as if all the ism-threads (sexism, capitalism, racism, ageism etc) can never be separated and because of that strong knot nothing will ever really change. I feel this ism-knot as a conspiracy to keep us locked in constant theoretical debate, to keep us apathetic or just completely overworked. The knot keeps us from being able to see solid solutions to problems that affect us all. Sure it’s intense at times. But I think it is of utmost important to have an open dialogue with one another, to throw out ideas that just may work. Of course, these are not new ideas that I am writing, but I want to hear what you all think of some of the solutions that I’ve been contemplating in my own mind, solutions that seem reasonable, that seem to be conducive for the majority of people living in the united states. Here are two ideas.
1) A Maximum Wage—Everyone seems to be able to come to the conclusion that a minimum wage should exist, but it would make the most sense to have a minimum wage that included enough money to actually live on and a maximum wage that caped people off from having more money than anyone truly needs in a lifetime. Sure this would change the dynamics of capitalism, but it is not nearly as drastic as completely ridding our society of its capitalistic flavors.
2) Job Sharing—Here is the plan. Multiple people work at the same job, they work the same amount of time and are off the same amount of time and get paid the same amount for the entire year. What would this look like? I believe there could be multiple ways of doing this, but to put it in a more concrete example: Sally works for the Flower Power Co. from May to August and Dec to Feb. and has Sept. to Nov. and March to May off. During that time she receives a regular weekly salary that is exactly the same whether she is on or off the employee schedule. Betty works and is off the exact opposite of Sally.
Job sharing would enable people to contribute to the capitalist society by “working” mainstream jobs but would also give people time to contribute to their own life chooses whether it is something in the creative sphere such as writing or watching films, whether it is dedicating oneself more to their family and friends, whether it is starting one’s own business, whatever whatever.
I don’t know, these seem like great solutions to our current economic woes, what do you all think?
Sunday, April 4, 2010
You know when you walk down the street and a homeless dude or dudette asks you for money and you say no, but then you start feeling guilty and because you feel guilty you start feeling pissed.
You know when your aunt or cousin or grandma or father sends you a card for your birthday or Christmas or whatever and you open it, hoping to find a little bit of money because you really need help paying this months rent, but instead the aunt or cousin or grandma or father says that you are in their “prayers”.
You know when millions of people die in religious wars.
When people fight over a woman’s body in the name of God instead of allowing her body to be her own.
When thousands upon thousands of those non-aborted babies go hungry on the streets, go to war or prison just so they can eat.
You know when you meet people who are Christian who have never read the bible but use it to justify why they will or will not do something, or why they are right and you are wrong.
Or when people do read the bible and choose to take out the bits and pieces that relate to their situation or argument…often times ending the argument by saying something like, “well, it’s in the bible and the bible says it’s wrong.”
Praise fucking Jesus!
Righteousness, zealousness, fundamentalness. Knowing that what you believe is right, that it is the only way to believe and that you can not open your mind to any other way of understanding because the only way to live is with Jesus in your heart. When all you do is sit around trying to convince people that Christianity is the way and you block out everything the other person tries to say. When you can’t rationalize making your own life happen because god leads the way. When you are a woman and you let men walk all over you in the name of the Lord. When you are a man and you walk all over women in the name of the Lord.
When all the stores are closed on a holiday when you need a drink more than ever.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Today, while doing jump-shots during my P90X Cardio workout a breeze stumbled in through the window at just the right time making me, for a moment, miss doing real basketball jump shots. Yes, for a minuscule moment in time I actually missed a sport. But after carefully analyzing my feelings I realized what I really miss is the social connections made through sports.
For example, when I truly enjoyed playing basketball I played it outside on my grandparents cement court, with my family--my grandpa teaching me proper follow-through, my dad, never backing down from blocking me, my mom never letting me win (though eventually I would).
I missed playing at other outdoor courts in Greeley, Garnett, even in Hays with friends who I always beat. And I didn't have that flashback of reminiscing and longing just because I am a born winner and would enjoy kicking someone's ass again. I think there is something about spring that always makes me think of basketball in a joyful manner instead of in that trapped-gym feeling I got later in life when the sport became more of a chore, more of an obligation, when I started to realize how silly it was to run back and forth for 40 minutes putting the same ball through the same hoop over and over again for no real apparent reason besides saying at the end when I would most definitely have more point than anyone else--that I was indeed "better" than them.
But I have so many good memories attached to basketball. One of my favorite memories is of a moment that happened in 6th grade when a scrawny pencil thin boy with a rat tail thought that because of his gender alone he could beat a girl—a girl (me) who was ten feet taller and at least a hundred pounds bigger than him. I remember how he drove me nuts, like a rodent, always nipping at my heels, and then once when I when rebounding a shot, he thought he could get the ball from me and attached to it like his hands were covered in super glue. I remember being amazed at my own Amazonian-like strength, watching as his body lifted from the ground, watching as I swung him from left to right, right to left, until finally he lost his grip and he flew 10 feet or more across the court. That moment really made my year. I felt powerful. I felt like a confident winner. It didn’t hurt that I hurt both his pride and his physical body and he never again thought he could compete against me. And I remember receiving admiration from both the girls and the boys who knew at that moment that I was a badass.
So, I guess in a way, basketball helped develop my badass persona, which is why when I do fake jump shots in my living room I am slightly disappointed that I am not playing for real. Playing outside against worthy friendly opponents. Playing as a way to have fun, to share an experience, to get off the fucking couch, not playing as a militarized machine, an obligatory dim gym pawn for a dim-witted coach which is what made me quit in high school.
It’s safe for me to say that I miss the feeling of the perfect release, the ball spinning beautifully swooshing the net in an almost soundless score. The smell of dirt and grass and concrete, the feeling of skinning a knee on a futile attempt to steal the ball, the feeling of a worthy opponent guarding me, all the while me knowing that I will get around said opponent, and they will have to buy me dinner or a drink or be my servant for the rest of the day because that was the terms of the bet before beginning. Because what is a game without an incentive to win? I guess it’s just like a fake jump shot—good for the body, but it does nothing for the mind or the soul.
(P.S. I am being a bit overdramatic on my actual ability to play this sport…sure I have won games, but I can admit to losing a few over the years as well, though as you can tell, I do not really care to admit it.)
Thursday, April 1, 2010
So today marks me and Ryan's 4 year anniversary. I don't know about most couples these days, but there was never any "official" statement of our coupledom; there was the one day I sent him a facebook message (when facebook was new and mysteriously cool) that stated "do you like me? Circle Yes or No (or reply yes or no since you can't technically circle anything via the internet)" but I don't think that facebook note justifies or clarifies us as an "us" (even though he obviously replied Yes).