swamped with work and life... aka the return from boston

this is just a super-quick post to let y'all know i haven't forgotten... i'll be updating SOON SOON SOON on wam! and the super-awesomeness therein.


what a great time! met some cool people and basked in some fantastic discourse.


i'm uber-eager to give you my take on things, as well as recount strange tales from the cambridge marriott, lol. work has me playing mega-catchup, however, and that has to take precedence a ce moment.


anyway, just wanted to give a brief shout out and promise of women, action and the media goodness! cheers!

WAM! curiosity...

who's going? i'll be there, blue-streaked hair and all... will you? i know there's been some heated controversy surrounding the conference and its presenters and organizers, but i'm trying to get myself psyched for it (not to mention that i happen to adore jaclyn)! so lemme know :)

so spitzer's resigning... thank gods!

... but does that remedy the situation? i mean, the man's been dubbed the new eliot ness, for chrissake, and he's rumored to have charged over $80,000 in prostitution charges! i'm so sick of the hypocrisy!!! and what's the allure of paying $4,300 a session for sex? i just don't understand it. not to mention what kind of sleaze gets into an argument with a prostitute about her insistence upon clean sex? now i'm not trying to pass judgement on the type of sex that people choose (or choose not) to have, but unprotected sex, especially when you're very obviously committing adultery and have multiple partners, is just idiotic and dangerous. charge that jerk already and get him outta the headlines. i'm already sick of reading/hearing/etc. about it.

horseshit.

so i've been incredibly busy lately, living, working, being social and trying my best to bask in the glow of my beautiful lady. i've had some really shitty luck, with my bank account being hacked (to the tune of more than $1000 in fraudulent charges) to losing my cell phone, which, if you know me, is basically my lifeblood. everything i am is unfortunately tied to that stupid piece of electronic equipment.

in other words, blogging hasn't been a priority. for that, i apologize.

so i had decided to insert a little photo journal of my past few weeks for y'all to peruse and mock when i looked over to the side of my page where i have a blogrush account. (if you're interested, PLEASE link from my page and get the word out!) the top blog entry listed therein was titled 'pick up women online.' and if you're really sickly fascinated, here's the link.


and what does this 'genius' nico have to say about women? well, all you have to do is watch the first thirty seconds of the video to realize that he's an absolute total douchebag, from his knit skullcap that's adorably emblazoned with the word 'hung' to his tacky orange tie-dyed tee to his long greasy hair and the fact that he's BROADCASTING FROM THE FRONT SEAT OF HIS CAR AS HE RUNS HIS ERRANDS. maybe i'm just a bitch, but there was definitely a sadistic part of me that was secretly hoping he'd crash as we travel with him to pick up his mail, run to the bank, etc. his advice to men is full of all sorts of lovely gems, including the diamond that women are like racehorses, among many other pearls of wisdom.

fyi: 80% of all of his hookups were the first night... and the rest were all the second or third date. who wants to bet he never had a callback, lol? ugh. so who's with me on flooding this idiot's email with all sorts of hate mail? huzzah!

i've so far shied away from it...

the horrendous trans* phobic media mishandling of a detroit native's murder a week and a half ago.


i've talked to friends about it, we've hashed and rehashed, all the tragedy, the bullshit, the ignorance, the loss. frankly, the idea of blogging it gave me a twinge of the shudders.




as coverage increases, so do the number of bigots and insensitive comments. and so it has to be discussed, and where better than the blogosphere?

refusing to release the victim's name is simply harmful to the community. is the family ashamed that their relative may be trans*? are they trying to honor hir by keeping the name out of the press? perhaps they're angered (and rightly so) that the police are continuing to refer to a murder victim as 'a man in women's clothing?' ugh ugh ugh. until we get more information, we'll never know...



the bottom line is, SOMEONE WAS SHOT IN THE HEAD IN A PARKING LOT. what sie was wearing is not the focus. bringing hir killer to justice should be the goal.



RIP

allow me to retort... and defend myself a bit

personal vs private.


lighthearted vs serious.


political vs social.

why is there so much guilt and pressure with combining these elements on blogs? i've stressed over and over about how much to conceal and reveal about myself when purporting to promote a blog that deals with gender and sexuality issues, rights, freedoms, and injustices. i feel guilty when i express feelings and musings on my personal life here. similarly, i feel sterile and cold when i simply link to articles and world issues. i mean, writing about passions should be relatable, non?


so then why do we feel badly about combining the two? isn't that how are lives work anyway? can you have one without the other? (successfully and honestly, of course.) i think not.


i've gotten feedback from RL friends (whatever that means, anyway, lol) that make statements regarding the hinges i've swayed to my past and present conditions and situations. conversations always progress to effect of:
'wow, i never knew you had __________ or that you've dealt with __________. why didn't you tell me before? are you okay? i'm really sorry, etc. etc. ...'


to which i reply (and please, count this as an official response in the here and now) :



how would you know that? i never told you, and honestly, i probably would never tell you, as it's my life, and not necessarily your business. it's not that i'm attempting to hide anything, it's just that, on a day to day basis it's not quite appropriate, or the situation rarely arises to talk about such personal things. i mean, how often do you walk up to acquaintances and begin spilling your guts about family members passing away, how privileged you were (or weren't) growing up, or times you've spent in the hospital? if i've given you a link to my blog, i'm comfortable enough to share these things with you there. that doesn't necessarily mean i want to have some huge heart-to-heart about it. that's what the blog entry is, and you should treat it as such. if you want to begin discourse, there's a comment section at the end of every entry. use it, please. don't wait until we're hanging out and make a comfortable situation awkward. i love you. i promise. if stories result organically, they will, and that's fine. bringing up bs in person is just that: bs.


so now that i've ranted a bit regarding RL vs OL communication, let me take this entry back full circle:


i'm happy with the amalgamation this little insignificant blog has become. life is a mixture of the personal and political, and i refuse to apologize for toeing that line, and i'm no longer going to feel guilty for double dutching over it. if i want to spend three weeks discussing the type of heels i wanna wear, then sobeit. and by a turn of the screw, if i prefer to simply post links and discuss nothing but NPR discourse for the same amount of time, then i'm gonna do it. mix and match, messied all together in a boulliabaisse of blog. because that's how my life tends to be. i won't have it any other way. amen.

into you like a train

if i had a dollar for every time i thought i could fall in love...

i'd still be poor.

but maybe i'd have enough for bus fare to get me the fuck out of here.

how much for a smile?

i've been giggling more in the past week than in the last year.

i melt for your smile and touch

that irrepressible flush that so often floods your cheeks

belieing your age.

i can't believe it's for me.

on second thought:

fuck the dollars...

i only need one.

apology and a tentative promise...

i've been dealing with that interesting little quirk called life lately.


alas, i've severely neglected my blog.


it seems like every day i sign onto the internet and see my blogger homepage, i sigh and think 'later, later....'


well, now it's MUCH later, and as i straighten out as much of the fiasco that's my world maintenant, i figured this is as good as any other place to start.


so i'm going to make a serious effort to post more frequently in the upcoming days, even as my life spitfires me forward.


toward what? it's anyone's guess...

how desperate do you have to be...

to disrespect someone's body in this way?



real life is NOT 'weekend at bernie's,' people. this story broke my heart and turned my stomach at the same time. who wheels a dead man's body down the street to cash their social security check? the audacity!



of course, the deceased man was a senior citizen (albeit a young one at 66.) yet another example of blantant disregard for mature people in this country. they're only good for their monthly checks.



i need another cup of coffee, and maybe a shotgun. *grumble grumble*

guess i have to go back to school...

'cause my blog's reading level is:

Fast Payday Loans

an appropriate critique of the surge of pregnancy movies out there...

FINALLY, someone took the words out of my mouth!



Susie Bright at (appropriately enough, lol) Susie Bright's Journal did an amazing piece on the influx of 'unwanted yet at the last minute i just have to experience the miracle of life' movies here.



i've been super irritated for a while at the idea that all of these women would just 'see the light' and everything would miraculously work out in the end. not to mention the fathers just fall into place and have their own little epiphanies as well. abortion is never a truly viable option, because these heroines could NEVER GO THROUGH WITH IT. (gasp!) and i thought i was the only one who felt this way... go read it!

dream interpretations, anyone? bueller... bueller?

i had this horrendous dream the other night, and i thought i'd share:




i'm in a car with a group of friends, all of whom happen to be lesbians. a straight white male cop pulls us over, and proceeds to make some homophobic and sexist remarks. (i can't recall what exactly he said.) so i'm apparently feeling brave, because i lean forward from the back seat and snarkily ask "could you repeat that? 'cause all i heard was lawsuit, lawsuit, lawsuit." guffaws and smirks abound... until he asks me to step out of the car. i climb out of the back seat. the cop grabs me, puts me in handcuffs and forces me to my knees in the snow. at this point, i'm somewhat out of view of my friends. the officer begins to fondle me and take off my clothes, telling me i shouldn't be hanging out with these dykes. i respond that i'm 'one of these dykes,' and he says he's gonna fuck the gay out of me. (side note: i've heard this phrase so many times, in real life, and it never ceases to scare the shit out of me.) he removes his clothes and begins to rape me. i scream, and in a strange dream perspective shift, i see all of the girls trying to get out of the car. somehow, another cop is there, holding them back at gunpoint. then i'm back in my own body, yet still watching myself. i'm crying, staring straight ahead and trying to think of what to do. the only thought that comes to me is to vomit, so i do, all over the man and myself. i hope it will make him stop, but it doesn't. the idea that now this man will have a roman shower fetish enters my head. i know that the officer is a serial rapist and his thirst for violence will only increase. it ends. i'm suddenly alone on my knees in the snow, covered in vomit. my friends run up to me, and i'm screaming and crying and won't let them touch me. i'm completely embarrassed, and begin throwing snow all over myself, to wash off the vomit, cum and blood that has been seeping from my nose and mouth. (at some point the officer had hit me in the face, i think after i threw up.) i become even more embarrassed as i'm rubbing the snow over me, because i realize i look completely insane, and i know they don't understand that the snow will make me clean, and that's why i'm covering myself with it. eventually, one of the girls picks me up and carries me to the car, totally vulnerable and exposed.





any takers on what this means? it was such a graphic and disturbing dream. i should also mention that the friends in the dream are all new. i met a whole crew through someone new that i'm dating. i think that's from where the apprehension and embarrassment stems. has anyone else had rape dreams?