Tuesday, July 12, 2011
And now I think I might need to take a break. Oh, not permanently, but a bit of one.
Screed will not die, but it's not going to be the main place for me to be online anymore.
If you want the short and shallow me, find me on Twitter @DeliaChristina or @DeliaC.
If you want something more than shallow but less than long-form, and more social, find me on Facebook.
If you're a hip chick, there's always Google +.
When the inspiration hits me, I'll post some long things here, but that inspiration is competing with an awful lot of other stuff. Catch y'all later!
Monday, June 06, 2011
I swear to god, I don't understand men - especially men in elected office.
There are some other things I don't understand:
The massive ego that short circuits a man's Good Decision-Making Brain Center makes me wonder what other good decisions are being blocked.
The over-weening pride in one's phallus that makes a man think that all women want to gaze up on it. (Hint: we DON'T.)
The ballsy arrogance that empowers a dude to brazenly lie about something that will inevitably be discovered.
Men are either immensely stupid or ...no. Just immensely stupid.
Friday, April 22, 2011
The hunt for the perfect Easter dress would heat up a few weeks in advance of Easter Sunday. This was a process that would almost always end in tears as mom would make her choice, I or my sister would pout, and so on, until a dress was chosen in exasperation that made none of us happy. (This was later rectified when Mom decided to sew our Easter dresses - which established a whole other interminable, labor-intensive and emotionally draining process.)
The rehearsals for the Easter program would begin in earnest at least 2 months ahead, as every kid in church was handed a part of the Easter Story (from the Triumphant Entry, through the Last Supper, Betrayal, Trial, to the Cross Carrying, Crucifixion and then Resurrection/Ascension + Various Eyewitness Accounts) and expected to memorize ALL of the King James verses and recite them dully into a microphone to beaming parents. I was usually given something about Peter's denial, or the stone being rolled away. My sister managed to always get the short verses. Typical.
Oh, lord. The flashback I'm having!
Then there was the hair preparation -- oh, the hair preparation! All day Saturday watching my mom get redder and redder in the face as I tipped back in the kitchen chair, all my hair poured into the kitchen sink, and my mom labored to shampoo, condition and then detangle and roller set my thick curly hair in giant pink rubber tubes. And then watching her do the same thing with my sister. Spending the rest of the day dyeing dozens of hardboiled eggs with rollers in our heads so tight they pulled our eyes upwards into little slants and we could barely blink.
And then the next day, waking up early on Sunday - new shoes, new dress, new tights, new exhortations not to mess up our hair which hung in long, perfect ringlets, thick like bratwurst. Rushing to church, taking care not to crush our hair, our dresses, our Easter baskets, our eggs for the hunt after church, not to scuff our shoes. Watching my hair grow bigger and bigger with the day's humidity. And really cognizant that my little sister looked cuter than I.
(Poofy on a tiny person looks cute; poofy on a person who's already shaped like a poof looks POOFY.)
Fidgeting through a sonorous Baptist sermon on Christ's rising, sweating in the gold sunlight of the sanctuary. Hair still getting bigger while the ribbons are limper. Watching the clock tick past noon, past one...and now the Easter program. Lining up in the foyer of the church, desperately trying to remember my single piece of scripture (without which Christ isn't truly risen), loudly reciting my part, painfully watching a girl struggle through her piece which she forgot, balefully staring at my sister as she squeaks out her piece and runs back to Mom's lap. Typical.
And then, somehow, oblivious as a group of church men leave the sanctuary to walk across the street, to the janky abandoned lot, to hide Easter eggs. Did we ever clean this lot? I don't think so. It was filled with the detritus of the South Central neighborhood around our church - broken bottles, cigarette butts, beer cans. Did we care? No. As soon as Christ was risen, ascended into heaven and various eye witness accounts were shared, we were dismissed. We ran across the street, crashing through weeds, old tires and wires, to hunt eggs. It was really a wonder none of us ever needed a tetanus shot afterward or fell over a dead prostitute.
But I also remember how upset we all were when, years later and Easter egg hunts were well in my past, the lot's owner decided to build an ugly stucco apartment building on it. The unjust-ness of it almost made me cry.
After such a long day, my sister and I would change out of our dresses and into our play-clothes; but we kept our fancy hair and we'd lay on our stomachs on the livingroom floor, peeling eggs, eating chocolate and watching Star Trek while the grownups talked after dinner.
There was no better feeling than this - the luxury, excess, indulgence, naughtiness and prettiness all mixed in together. All marked with a smear of chocolate across our lips. Heaven. Thank you, Jesus.
May your Easter festivities be as randomly joyful.
Monday, April 18, 2011
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
But I'll just give some sage advice to budding sr. managers out there:
* If you have never put together an effective presentation, don't question how many hours go into creating one.
* And if all you have to do is open your mouth and speak the words that other people write, do NOT expect an open attitude about your revisions. You want to do it? You do it.
* If you aren't the one lining up the panel, confirming the speakers, prepping the panel, creating the content, writing the talking points, herding the participants, testing the A/V, editing the presentations, collecting all the materials, calling the hotel and reviewing catering, room set up, registration capacity and so on, don't ask why someone wants to end the day in blessed silence on the train (in the bar car) rather than inside a car with you back to the city.
* And if you haven't done all those things you BETTER let the person who did roll in at 10 am the next day because she's effing exhausted and brain-drained.
That is all. Carry on.
Friday, April 08, 2011
"I know my rage is hurting me as much as it is hurting my opponents. Can I try to understand what the sex police want? Do they want to justify their bathroom behavior? Do they want their mothers to “find something?” Are they themselves capable of the abstinence that they are forcing on women? As a pastor, the only explanation I can give for the immoral stupidity of the current proposal is here: some people on the religious right really hate their own sexuality. That almost makes me sad enough to care about them. Just almost..."
I'm glad I'm not the only church lady who struggles with the Golden Rule thing.
I want to grab a hammer but I know smashing testicles isn't constructive or helpful.
More's the pity.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
The disgusting number of women-hating pieces of legislation being pushed through various state legislatures is astounding.
But I think the Idaho bill is particularly galling: even if you were the victim of sexual assault or family sexual abuse you would be forced to keep the pregnancy.
It's a double assault against a woman's body and mind.
These fucking men seem to have a real problem with women having an independent will.
You know, like men have.
I had a conservative guy respond to one of my tweets today and he seemed to imply that simply having a reproductive system automatically obligated a woman to use it to reproduce. Whether or not she wanted to.
If we take all these bills together, women aren't going to be allowed to make decisions about anything on our own:
We can't buy contraception.
We can't terminate a pregnancy if we are raped.
We can't terminate a pregnancy if we aren't.
Our exes get to sue us if we get an abortion.
We can't say no to an ultrasound.
We can't rely on our own religious (or irreligious) counselors.
We have to wait for an abortion.
We can't get an abortion in our own state.
We can't use our money (or the State's money) to pay for abortion.
What can we do, in this world these women-hating men want to create?
Oh, get pregnant, get raped, and stay pregnant.
I want to smash some testicles.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
Apparently, I'm so happy my ass is busting my pants!
I discovered this yesterday during my annual visit to my OB/Gyn. The nurse kept nudging the scale weight farther and farther to the right until it rested on 243.
I knew those jeans were a little tighter.
So that means tomorrow I'm dragging my 243 pound ass out of bed, at 5.30 am, to walk. Every day.
And it means I can't order takeout for dinner when I'm too tired to cook after I come home from work.
And it means my portions are going to be the size of my fist.
In good news, my doctor didn't balk when I said I'd like to start thinking about more permanent birth control solutions. Essure, here I come? Let's hope so!
Here's a picture of a fat baby because that's what I feel like (and this is kind of what my baby pictures look like):
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I post stories like this on my Facebook a lot. I'm sure I make my friends sick with all the stories about rape, anti-choice politics, and violence against women. But it's so easy for us to ignore how our society hates women in so many ways. So I use my account as a kind of library of sins against us.
(But it's not all heavy depressing things like this. I also post about food, being gassy, feeling sleepy and work.)
"The police say the girl was raped on at least six occasions, from Sept. 15 to Dec. 3. Nineteen boys and men, ages 14 to 27, have been charged in connection with the rapes, the most recent arrest last Wednesday."
A little girl was repeatedly gang raped over the course of three months by multiple groups of men.
This world makes me so tired and angry, I could sleep forever.
Monday, March 28, 2011
CEO: Ok, new board members. I have two candidates and we need someone to interview them. One is Blah-Blah and the other is Professor Bleep Bleep.
DeliaChristina: Huh. Professor Bleep Bleep. Why is that name familiar...?
(blah blah interview schedule conversation continues)
DeliaChristina: Wait. What's her name again? The professor?
CEO: Professor Bleep Bleep. She's with the University of X and she also did work in California with Boop Boop. Why?
DeliaChristina: Um, I think I vomited in her face once. Technically, on her head, but her face is on her head so...
Board Member: What?? Are you sure?
DeliaChristina: I think so. I mean, it was grad school and I wasn't used to drinking and I didn't have dinner. But, you know?! It could totally be someone else. I mean, it's a common enough name and as long as she didn't do her doctorate in Michigan...
CEO: That's where she got her degree!
DeliaChristina: Ohmygod. I vomited in her face. Our friendship ended that night.
Board Member 2: But how long ago was that? Maybe she forgot.
DeliaChristina: In. Her. FACE. Copiously.
CEO: Ok, then. You are *not* interviewing her.
I ask you! What are the odds?!?
What you'll see when you click on that link will either make you angry, sad or (if you're someone who's missing a critical puzzle piece shaped like Human Decency) fill you with a sense of satiation. An eye for an eye, and all that.
But years from now, perhaps many years, when someone has to write about the United States and how we went from being a shining light on a hill to being a gutter filled with blood and craziness, the story of our involvement in Iraq, Afghanistan (and our silence and inaction in Africa) will condemn us.
War is bad. It's almost banal to say it that way. It has become cliche. And we, trying to be hip, worldly or knowing of the very manly way the world works resort to cliche a lot. We say, war is hell; we invoke passive voice and say bad things are done; we say that no one can ever know what it's like.
Perhaps all of this is true.
But I know in my heart that I never want to know what it's like to look at a severed head, or exploded guts, or the vacant milky eyes of a dead teenager and not feel something like repulsion for the act - as well as the people who committed it.
We should shun these men, the system, and the war that created the context for their murder.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Jesus was very clear that the pursuit of wealth was inimical to the Kingdom of God, that the rich are to be condemned, and that to be a follower of Him means to give one’s money to the poor. And yet Evangelicals are the most supportive of corporate greed and capitalistic excess, and they are the most opposed to institutional help for the nation’s poor—especially poor children. They hate anything that smacks of “socialism,” even though that is essentially what their Savior preached.And this:
And as is the case for most White Evangelical Christians, what they are ignoring is actually the very heart and soul of Jesus’s message—a message that emphasizes sharing, not greed. Peace-making, not war-mongering. Love, not violence.I think that if the trajectory our country is on is ever going to change, and if there's a chance for the rampant craziness from the religious Right to be checked, those of us of faith will need to be more confrontational and call out these so-called Christians for their hypocrisy and greed. The liberals don't really understand church language or sentiment so it's really up to us.
Friday, March 25, 2011
the New York Times showed an incredibly rare bit of spine today by publishing a dull numbers story that is possibly the most enraging thing you’ll ever read:Wow. NO taxes. At all.
The company reported worldwide profits of $14.2 billion, and said $5.1 billion of the total came from its operations in the United States.Its American tax bill? None.
If I decide to skip my taxes this year (which is a real possibility if I cannot find the time to do them) guess who's knocking on my door two years later?
(And I know this because I accidentally did this while in grad school. They came after a grad student!)
And this should be repeated every time someone decides to blame teachers, unions, pensions and poor single moms for the craptacular state of this world:
This is going to get repetitive, we’re afraid, but every aspect of the “financial crisis” in the United States is due to corporations not paying taxes and the very richest .01% individuals not paying taxes. That’s it, that’s the whole thing — your crumbling schools, your sinkhole highways, your abandoned state parks, the laid-off city maintenance worker who leaps to his death in Costa Mesa after half the town’s workforce is replaced by hourly contractors and the mayor hires a $12,000-a-month P.R. manager, everything.
It may seem a little over-determined and bombastic but, boy, is it kinda accurate.
Wonk Room » Pawlenty: U.S. Should Not Be Governed By Religious Law — Unless It’s Christianity:
"During a recent address to the Iowa Faith and Freedom Coalition, Pawlenty proclaimed, “The Constitution was designed to protect people of faith from government, not to protect government from people of faith.” He added, “we need to be a country that turns toward God, not a country that turns away from God.”
I mean, sure, folks should turn to God. (If that is their wont.)
But there is no way I want my government basing its laws on the Bible.
Government, by all means, should be protected from religion.
People (typically men) who get excited by the idea of turning the Bible into some freaky rubric for everyone to follow always choose the weird stuff:
no sex, stoning women, biology being destiny; the poor being with you 'always,' men being in charge of everything, no gays, daughters staying under the authority of their fathers, owning slaves; proselytizing/killing folks who don't give a shit what you think about their faith (or lack thereof), righteous war, exploiting the land and all that smiting nonsense.
They never pick the cool stuff:
mutual kindness; minding your own business; helping your neighbor; the Good Samaritan; shaking the dust off your feet; rich men getting into heaven like camels through the eyes of needles; the last shall be first and first, last; Peter being told to stop being such an asshole bigot.
If they did, they wouldn't be called Christians; they'd be ... Scandinavian or something. Socialists, in any case.
Religious blowhards with giant, rutting, pink hard-ons for patriarchy and control always choose the rules in the Bible more likely to be illegal, oppressive or otherwise problematic in a democratic, secular and pluralistic society.
Why is that?
Saturday, March 19, 2011
DeliaChristina: oh, no! i'm sorry your subconscious is making my friends quiz you.
M- : no, it was ok. one of the friends was a guy, and he was on my side.
M-: i had another dream that i sent snoop dogg back in time to the 18th century because he was being a dick.
DeliaChristina: (laughing) that's so mean! i'll teach you a lesson, snoop dog - i'm taking you back to slavery! see if you get sassy then!
M-: hey, he was being a dick. but i had another time travel dream a while ago when i went back to the 80s for an italian beef.
DeliaChristina: you wasted time travel on food? you can't do that!
M-: hey, i'm not changing history. i'm just eating pizza.
Monday, March 14, 2011
M- said this to me the other night and it's not as scary and stalkerish as it sounds. I forget the context for the conversation, but suddenly we were talking about What If we hadn't met. Maybe the conversation was prompted by my long trip in DC and the distance between us.
He said, 'Meeting you was..my chance. Before meeting you, I was fine with the idea of being alone; I had pretty much decided that finding someone wasn't going to happen for me.'
I said, 'Aww. I don't know if I was exactly there but if I hadn't met you, I think I would have stopped dating in any serious way. It was getting too gross and pathetic.'
Yay, me and M- found each other, but it made me think about how getting older perhaps means a closing of the fan of possibility. Not that getting old means love is dead but that the willingness, the hunger, for the whole process of seeking out and falling in love just peters out. It's exhausting.
Finding the One Right Now took 39 years; I don't have the stamina or optimism to go through finding The Next One. It's not like my relationship skill-building would be that much better. (And frankly I won't have the hormonal urge to, anyway.)
M- recently found another job and it has us thinking, and talking, about cohabitation again. It's another step toward permanence and I am more receptive to things becoming more...settled. The idea of melding our households doesn't fill me with immediate panic; it's a logistical problem to be worked out between now and Fall. I think I'm also taking my cue from M-; he's in a much better thinking space. Because he rid himself of a toxic work environment, he's much less depressed and sad about where he is, and that makes me more comfortable with the idea of living with him. I think we'll be looking at neighborhoods this summer.
This increased comfort with the idea of permanence has also been prompted by thoughts of my aging father who is going through a period of not being able to pee because of typical old guy problems; of my sister, who is now more interesting to me; of my work (which might change in a few years); and of M-'s new job which has an office in Los Angeles.
He said to his new boss, 'Me and the girlfriend might get married and relocate out there since her family lives in LA.'
When he told me the story, for once I didn't get all huffed up and defensive ('How dare you make plans for me!'); the thought made sense. I could imagine myself back in LA with my family, taking care of my dad, being reunited with my friends from the Old Delia, driving badly across all the freeways. For the first time, the idea of returning home made me think of the possibility of long-term happiness.
Being One of Two is an act of will; I've said so before and I believe it more firmly than ever. I don't think I'd have the will again for this path I'm walking with M-. Rather than making me afraid of what I want, this relationship is making me more sure of it. I want permanence. (I still don't want children. And I could take or leave a wedding.) But it's making me work for it, man. None of these decisions about my future, or our future together, come easy. All sorts of negotiations need to be considered.
(For instance, my relationship with Girl Island. Unfortunately, I don't think M- or certain of my friends will ever be comfortable around each other; this might be a necessary price to pay for what I have with him. Or it's karmic payback for being a raging bitch toward my gay best friend's partner for a few years.)
But this is me putting it on the record: there's a vague 10 year plan moving forward and I might be ok with that.
God I'm getting old. What's next? Sensible DKNY walking shoes?
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
But mainly it's one thing: learn how to use technology!
All these folks with their smartphones and not one way to use them smartly to navigate the city (i.e., search the metra system, map a route from airport to hotel, look up congressmen, etc.)
This is the first moment I've had to get my thoughts together.
The rest of the day I've been up since 5 am, remotely steering my boss through DC's public transportation system, trying to find my delegation, going on appts and moving the earth behind the scenes to make sure folks have a productive time. Barely ate lunch, gulped down every glass of water on my table and I think my Instead cup flipped over. SIGH.
The last thing I want to do is go to dinner tonight. But I must.
(What would I rather be doing? Sitting in my room, in my pjs, studying for tomorrow and ordering room service.)
The room is very cute, though.
Monday, March 07, 2011
Tonight, I'm in Washington, DC for a business trip. I'm trying to cram information about the foundation excise tax into my brain but I really want some sleep. I think I may cram before coffee tomorrow.
It's lovely here - the weather is soft - and I'm sure this trip will be moderately successful (having already addressed one snafu) but I really think Lobby Days need to be restructured. It's a lot of expense for very little payoff unless one has a really firm idea of what you're going to do with these contacts once you've made them. Do orgs have a sense of a 'sales cycle' for these things? I doubt it. And that cycle is the only thing that makes 'sales/pitch' meetings like this useful.
Anyway, I'm staying with a girl friend, we've had a lovely gossip and now I have to put on my big girl panties and act professional for two days. Sure I can do it. (Thankfully, I have the most comfy DKNY shoes to help me along.)
I miss M- (I'm here for most of the week).
And my bestie (we have a Kung Fu Panda game to conquer!)
But mainly M-.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Take a close look at some key words from critical reductions proposed by the GOP-led House:
nutrition for pregnant women/children
social security/elderly women
What do women with families care about?
We care about taking care of our kids; putting food on the table; getting all of us a good education; making sure all of us are healthy and have some slim chance for middle class stability.
The cuts the GOP have proposed gut all of that.
Their proposals are basically a knife to the heart of a woman's middle class dream. In their proposals we can predict an America full of communities and families without access to employment, healthcare or education, badly fed, untrained, at the mercy of biology and accident - a permanently under-educated and under-resourced underclass.
Thanks, GOP, for turning America into a Dickensian nightmare.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
But she still needs to rebuild her relationship with her kids (to undo all that has been done - and said, and reassert her maternal authority), and she is now officially a single mom. Things will be tougher; everything will be a negotiation with her ex and there's always the risk that he just won't face reality, turning this into 'Not Without My Daughter, Mexico edition.' But for now, she is free!
Her strength has been phenomenal and even when tiny wavers shook her spine, she stood through a lot -- threats to her livelihood, her reputation, her family and my long distance, outraged haranguing -- and came through. Yay, sis!
More importantly, now I don't have to wage a stealth campaign against MABIL.
(maybe when it's not this late, I'll write about what my sister's divorce case has shown me about the inherent sexism of the Nice Guy Who Thinks He's Nice But He's Only Nice As Long as You Do Everything He Says.)
More than a few years later (actually, eight), this blog has slowed down a little but that doesn't mean I'm giving it up. It's just that other things have been happening;but despite all the real-life stuff going on, I still have a finger on the pulse on what's happening in the outside world.
So here's all my political blogging smooshed together:
On the plan to defund Planned Parenthood and the GOP effort to balance the federal budget on a woman's uterus - no; if you were really serious about our deficit, you'd do something about defense and Medicaid.
On the Chicago mayoral race and candidates deliberately ignoring what a structural deficit is and playing word games with the electorate - you suck and you're dishonest.
On the revolution in Egypt - congrats, but democracy is harder than it looks.
On the abortion provider being targeted by anti-abortion activists in Wichita - i think it's time we all learned how to provide abortions; they can't put us all in jail. (That's my official Crazy Thought of the Day.)
On Illinois' frakked budget situation and the continued misunderstanding of what gov't is for: gov't is not our personal retail location where we are entitled to a product; it is an entity that delivers services that prevents us from living in caves like animals - services that need to be paid for. make the tax increase permanent, for god's sake, and stop fooling around.
Wednesday, February 02, 2011
However, just one block away, the street is clear, businesses are open and people are going about their way. So my snowbound world is very small. In fact, it's just this one block. Weird.
So I'm at home, 'working' remotely, and catching up on news of Egypt with Charlie Rose. And getting hungry. Dreading going outside for a taco.
How's the Blizzaster treating you?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sady Doyle - Script for Calling the Democrats Who Support HR3
I think it's still a little too long (staffers appreciate brevity) so I would cut it a little shorter, after you ask for the staffer who handles healthcare or women's issues:
1. Mention the bill # right away so it's at the top of the message: Hi, I'm calling to leave a comment about HR 3.
2. Tell the staffer what you want the Rep to do (again, so it's at the top of the message): Please oppose HR3.
3. Then boil it down to your top 3 bullets so they can summarize it for the legislator or the main staffer on this issue:
Going beyond Hyde, in an unprecedented way, HR 3 strips current rights from rape survivors, women and girls who need abortions.4. Then give your contact information and let them know you expect a response: I look forward to hearing from the Congressman on this matter.
HR 3 redefines rape to mean only sexual assault involving 'force' will be covered, contradicting existing statutes that already defines sexual assault. Sexual assault statistics and rape victim advocates show that 70% of rapes aren’t “forcible.”
HR3 also makes it much harder for women to purchase private insurance that may include abortion services, harder for companies to cover women who need abortions, and strengthens “conscience” clauses, which means doctors can refuse to provide critical reproductive medical care to women at any time. It is discriminatory.
5. Thank them and hang up.
Pass it on.
There are some things one shouldn't do, while running for office:
- be exposed as a girlfriend beating nutjob (hello, Scott Cohen)
- carry on with your filmmaker girlfriend while your wife battles cancer then pass off your love child as your campaign manager's (hello, John Edwards)
- throw your opponent's past drug habit in her face even though she kicked it, moved past it and became a better person despite it (what the hell, Carol?!?)
Carol is off the reservation. I don't know if she thinks she's emulating Daley's charming habit of saying whatever runs through his brain, like the crazy uncle at dinner, but this was just wrong.
And .... bitchy.
And also didn't answer the question.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
The above link is to a very thorough round up of the scope of HR 3, a remarkably intrusive, burdensome piece of anti-woman and anti-choice legislation from the GOP (and a short but significant list of Dems.)
I find it very interesting that with unemployment still high and economic stability still tenuous, as well as several foreign policy hot spots flaring up here and there, what does the male-led GOP want to spend its time and treasure on?
Preventing women from creating the families we want and controlling our own fertility and family planning - and punishing rape victims, to boot, by redefining rape to the benefit of rapists.
Once again, the single-minded concentration they direct toward preventing women from exercising our autonomy blinds them - and endangers the stability of our country overall.
They need to be stopped.
Peacefully, civilly and non-violently, of course.
Thursday, January 06, 2011
"For reasons unknown to mere mortals, Carol Moseley Braun extended the media coverage of her initial refusal to release her tax returns by dribbling out a bit more information yesterday. And she actually plans to keep the story alive by releasing more information sometime today…
Carol Moseley Braun on Wednesday released longer versions of her 2008 and 2009 tax returns, expanding on the two-page summaries she put online the day before.
Her disclosure brought her closer to matching two of her mayoral challengers: Rahm Emanuel and Gery Chico, each of whom has released five years’ worth of tax returns. Braun’s campaign indicated she plans to make her 2005, 2006 and 2007 returns available as soon as today.
This is just pure torture. Why would anybody operate this way?"It's like peeling off a really stuck on band-aid. Do it quick and it's all over; the media will move on to something more positive. Do it sloooowly and the pain lingers.
Wednesday, January 05, 2011
In all my years of blogging, even at Bitch Ph.D., there may have been a few moments where my sharing approached a certain line. I've written about getting my period, mom's death, weight (even giving my actual weight!), race, sex, boys, my new relationship, hooking up and God, but I've really tried to maintain some distance between a public and private persona. Mostly, I've created this line because I just don't want to deal with judgmental assholes.
In other words, there are some things I will never write about.
(Last month, I tried to write about something I'm still trying to process and the post still sits in the draft box. It's too much for here, for me.)
Brava to Trunk for sharing and being brave enough to share like this. I think writing, even for a blog, requires a level of self-honesty and bravery. But -- yikes.
I don't think I could endure this kind of comment.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
I think I'm even supposed to be one of her target demographic: woman of color, professional, educated, tired of old boy politics, pro choice, progressive, feminist-y, and modern. But I'm not digging Carol's style right now. Her campaign style is definitely not...modern. It's a mish mash of crankiness, recalcitrance, bull-headedness and iron-fisted charm. If her campaign was a CEO, I'd hate to work for her.
Am I supposed to be impressed she convinced Meeks and Davis to drop out? I wonder if their capitulation was due to her directly or the result of inevitability? Rev. Meeks insulted gays, women, Latinos, Asians, and people who knew gays, women, Latinos and Asians. Danny Davis is old (this isn't me being ageist; he's seriously old. Grandfather old. He won't make it!). And he's a demigod in his district. Why would he trade in his demi-deity to paint a target on his back as Mayor of a city with a huge deficit and mounting infrastructure issues? Does the fact she's the last black woman standing mean I'm ready to vote for Carol?
To be honest, her reliance on tired Old Black Dude (OBD) traditions makes me, a modern brown woman, even more tired. The OBD circuit is not where I come from. For once, can't we ignore that old dog/pony church circuit show? As the daughter of a pastor, I don't know what's more insulting: politicians polluting a church with their shilling, or pastors allowing them to do it. And watching her play 'gotcha' games (like the flip flop about the tax return) with the media is not helping me. Neither is her futile crusade against the parking meters. (She want to sue because it was a bad deal? They didn't pay enough? I think that milk is spilt.) Her comfort with the OBD circuit ages her - and alienates me.
Is the OBD circuit emblematic of what her administration would be?
Chicago is a city of neighborhoods, but has Braun left hers? Perhaps that's a little unfair of me, but I see a woman in her very well kept Hyde Park home, occasionally venturing out to give a few speeches and raise some money during a luncheon. She's a genteel lady who lunches -and I'm not.
The communicator in me believes in stories - not so much campaign cliches - but narratives of a vision. But what's Carol's story? What's her vision? Will she put Chicago on the path of something new or does she think it's good enough just to maintain the status quo? Where does she see Chicago going and how will she steer it? And why her? What's her value proposition? I've read her site (after weeks of searching for it) and all I can think of is blah blah blah.
On Christmas Eve, M- and I were having lunch somewhere in the art gallery district and overheard some regular guys talking about the Mayoral race. One of them said, 'She's a nice lady. But she just wants a job.'
Folks like me want to know what's inside the package. Black ministers don't do it for me. Neither do the unions. Who are the thinkers, the doers, the innovative creatives who are going to help you get Chicago back on track (if you think the wheels have come off.) When Chicago is threatening to fracture into sectarian groups again, how is she going to engage the whole public to rally around her, as the symbol of this city?
I'm the public, Carol, and you're losing me.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Guess who I could kick in the balls right now?