what i'm getting my dad for father's day

a massive kick in the ass.

i swear my dad is going to give me a heart attack. i feel like i'm the mother of a stubborn, idiot teenager who won't listen to anything i say so i must resort to saying things very slowly, like Bill Cosby, and repeating questions like: can you understand me? do you understand why i'm telling you this?

when i tell him that i disagree with his choices and that his choices make me afraid for his future and upset me,thus making my chest hurt a little, what's his response?

"well, i won't tell you my plans for the future, then."

that's not the solution, old man! the correct answer is change your plans! they're bad plans!

jesus.
my left hand is sort of tingling. is that a bad sign?

being a girl

thanks to my friend L- who sent me this article about the woman who stonewalled the inquiry at the justice department: How Monica Goodling played the gender card. - By Emily Bazelon and Dahlia Lithwick - Slate Magazine although i read newspaper reports i haven't been all up in this story. (i have a job, you know!)

but it's a smart, savvy take on gender performance and how our public eye is still more comfortable and accommodating when women weaken themselves rather than stand from a position of strength.

(take this article and then go to that recent study about 'uppity' women being targets of sexual harrassment more frequently than women who adhere to traditional gender roles. they're good bookends for each other.)
...
speaking of being a girl, it's dating season (for good or bad.)

had drinks last week with a very naughty actor guy (we made out in front of Moody Bible College) and yesterday had dinner with a divorced father of two who lived in the burbs.

but i think the hormonal surprise of the weekend was running into an old boss of mine in the supermarket and, while we were chatting and catching up, suddenly thinking, 'ohmygosh. he's totally hot.'

why was this a surprise? he's totally not my type: politically conservative, a 'good ol' boy' from nebraska, one of those totally testosteroned guy types, in possession of a personal life that resembles a train wreck (hello, contentious custody battle), and with a bizarre sales guy demeanor he can turn on and off like water. and, yet, he totally made my uterus clench.

weird.

who's going to italy? i am.

Roomie just reserved a villa in italy for next year!

we're going with a bunch of friends!
italy!
tuscany!
villa!
wine!
cheese!
pasta!
vistas!
i have to learn italian!

all of us are in a tizzy of planning (wardrobes, activities, day trips, food, music, wardrobes.) we haven't been able to work sensibly for the past hour. the group blog is already up and there is NO POINT in getting any work done. we're going to italy!

dude. this is completely better than the cocktail date i have scheduled for tonight.

bitten: close but no cigar

it looks like all i do nowadays is write about clothes, huh? no more snappy, angry political criticism, no more feminist screeds...just clothes. well, clothes can be political, too: who gets them, who controls the industry and who decides who gets to buy what - these are 'political' issues. granted, they're not at big as reproductive health access, but for those of us on the margins, it's a fightin' time.

privilege is invisible; in other words, the thing that marks your privilege is the thing you can't see, or you take for granted. whether you buy your clothes from an outlet or a high end store like barneys, if you go in without worrying about leaving empty-handed, this is the manifestation of your privilege as a 'normal' sized woman. i can't speak for other women who have worn sizes 16-20 since high school, but i've never once been able to do that. whatever city i'm in, i am hyper aware that a shopping trip for me will be limited; i will have to shop in specialty stores, will have to compromise on style and quality and whatever i buy will be a begrudged compromise between what i want, what's popular and what other people make for me.

bouncing between what passes for cute in bloomies, and the pants that fit at old navy, shopping is an event that i don't want to share with anyone because the many steps to shopping is exhausting.

so along comes Bitten, sarah jessica parker's new line of super cheap clothes, that promises to give women affordable style. i was a little excited about the prices and the seeming cute clothes but what really got me was the size range: 2-22. but where can i get it? only through a steve & barry's store and where's the closest one? way out here.

and thus, the problem. no one ever gets it right. if the sizes aren't there, we can't buy clothes; if the sizes are there, but the price point is too high, we can't buy clothes; if the price point is ridiculously low, the sizes are there, there are issues with quality, and you have to drive to iowa to purchase it, we still can't buy clothes.

so here's a big soft girl's manifesto. here's what i frakking want:
i want to walk into a jcrew (because i'm secretly preppy like that) and i want to find my size just like everyone else. that's it. it's that simple. i want to find my size.

repeat it with me: i want to find my size. i want. to find. my size.

can you hear me, big retailers and buyers and designers and bridge label people? i want to find my size.

a great blog i stumbled across has her own take on Bitten: The Budget Fashionista -Bitten by Sarah Jessica Parker on Oprah

three in one

i'm drowning in binders at work over here. conference call, advocacy procedures, reviews coming up, board meetings, blah blah blah.

so, of course i'm going to spend my time thinking about distractions: clothes and boys. oh, and another lisa belkin article about the opt out moms now trying to opt back in.

clothes: the times acknowledges that teen fashion is everywhere (am i the only one who hates H&M?) and trying to dress one's age is difficult. however, there are solutions. if i looked like one of their fashion sketches, perhaps i'd agree with them.

boys: yeah, so, i'm doing the eHarmony thing. (roll of eyes) i mean, if you can't meet someone based on 29 dimensions, where can you? they've improved their process and, though i'm a hit with lots of divorced guys in the burbs, i'll reserve judgment and will try to ignore the overtly goody-goodiness of it all. meanwhile, there is one last nerve guy i'll probably meet for a drink next week.

and the times says that if you're trying to meet a guy in a class, good luck with that.

opting back in: a few women have managed to squeeze their way back into the workplace. i'm still waiting for the article about women of color and why they never opted out in the first place.

i have shopping on the brain.
the weather is warmer, my pedicure is cute and all i want to do is shop for cute summer clothes that will make me feel light as a feather and not too sweaty.

first, an observation:
anyone remember the heady days of 1993 when little babydoll dresses, worn with tights and doc martens, were the absolute thing??

well, they're back. isn't there some rule that if you're old enough to have worn a trend the first time around, you shouldn't wear it when it comes back?

all clear

my ob gyn called today to let me know that my irregular pap is all clear! whoo hoo! the biopsies they took are clear, too! more whoo hoo!

i've been so worried about my fibroid (aka, Agatha) that i totally forgot i had a weird pap. so: no std's. no cervical weirdnesses (as of right now). just one poolball-sized fibroid to be eradicated.

life's good.

(i'll worry about my root canal later.)

when law school students run amok

fascinating.
i wonder how you'd design an experiment to see how fast it takes for a group of guys to totally devolve into a pack of Lord of the Flies-ish anti-semitic, misogynist racists with rape fantasies.

i mean, does the transformation from clean cut ordinary dude to spittle-covered savage take an average of 24 hours? two weeks? a year? or, is it just something that occurs instantaneously whenever a bunch of them gather on an anonymous chat board?

Bitch Ph.D. writes about it here. (and, yes, i'm totally late reading about this!)

and if any of my law grad friends are out there, have you even heard of this board? what's up with that?!

shopping: the return of ugly

i had to get an outfit for tomorrow - one that would move from a business meeting, a luncheon and then another business meeting and then a board meeting. basically, a cute lightweight suit-ish thing. (i have a couple at home, but they're more for fall, not spring.)

i was about to write a long, screedy thing, describing every awful outfit i saw in macy's and lane bryant but i'll just keep it simple:

dear retailers,
do you hate us?
because you keep ignoring the pleas and downright demands of plus size customers.

we don't want to wear the clothes you're making for us. they. are. ugly. you are forcing us to choose those boxy skirts in colors that wouldn't find a place in GAP, Banana or JCrew; those shapeless shirts and jackets that our mothers wore are beginning to show up in your stores again and we hate them. and, now, we are beginning to hate you. if you even attempt to foist mom jeans with a tapered leg on us, we might just have to rise up and kill one of you.

hear us: if you won't create a separate, stylish store for us, for the love of god, expand your sizes. don't hide your large sizes in the back of the store, or in the burbs; put them where you put everything else. find a fit model (joy nash is a good template) and, for god's sake, fire your buyers. they hate fat people.

sincerely,
ding

hm.

Grey’s Anatomy Spinoff - The New Modern Woman, Ambitious and Feeble

i've only watched 3 episodes of GA in all the time it's been on tv. and i've noticed the same thing this review mentions:

On “Grey’s Anatomy” at least two female characters, Christina (Sandra Oh) and Dr. Bailey (Chandra Wilson) have confidence, big egos and an ability to keep their sorrows to themselves most of the time. The female leads on the new series are fragile and pitiable, and it’s a worrisome imbalance.

i wonder if these characters' perceived strength is because they're women of color, created and written by a woman of color.

just wondering...

a clockwork B-

if anything, he is predictable.
B- sent me an email today asking if i saw his sister when she performed for my organization at an event last month.

then he asked me out for a drink.
i declined.

i could totally set my watch to him.

for mother's day

when i was still in grad school my mom would send me random care packages - shampoo, adobo seasoning, scissors. i'd get the box and would have no idea what i'd find inside.

one day, she sent me a birthday card with this clipping inside. inside the card, she'd written: 'this reminds me of you and makes me laugh.'

jesus.
now i've gotten all teary-eyed at work.

rediscovering home

it's a long, crazy-making story but i'm flying home this weekend to see my dad and pow wow with my sister about his weird decision making skills and the apparently done deal to sell our childhood home and move into a depressing and decidedly 'unhip' retirement community where the words MOBILE HOME PARK are prominently displayed.

i'll be flying into LAX in the afternoon and have decided to embrace being carless in los angeles. it's a scary thought, but it can be done, right? i mean, if you can be carless in Paris, then you sure as hell should be able to be carless in LA.

(incidentally, LA has the second largest public transportation system with subways, buses and a light rail in the nation.)

since i'm all about the research and not getting lost while traveling, i've been on this site: Experiencela.com. it's wonderful. from here, i can plan my bus trip from the airport to my sister's house or to my old high school where she teaches or i can look for some 'adventures' to have while in LA and feel jet set and cosmopolitan.

(the Wilshire Blvd and the Downtown LA adventures look neat.)

from behind the iron curtain: dowd on michelle obama

i don't know why, but MoDo consistently pisses me off.

like, what's the point of this column? the rezko deal? michelle obama ain't as great as everybody thinks she is?

have you noticed she does this with every single candidate's wife? she takes women who, in real life, would actually be pretty cool to know and then suddenly, because they're the candidate's wife, paints them as fake, emasculating Lady MacBeths who can't really be trusted to stick to the 'spin.' or they've somehow fallen down on the job of being 'wife.' or, now, they're just wrong, for some reason.

what's her deal? what would it take to actually make maureen dowd say about a candidate's wife who isn't the quiet smiling type, 'hm. she's ok.' her snittiness, makes me want to write dowd a letter and say, 'for the love of god, get a boyfriend already!' i know. you don't have to tell me how wrong and sexist that is. but what the frak is her problem??

anyway, the article is below:

She’s Not Buttering Him Up
By MAUREEN DOWD
Published: April 25, 2007

WASHINGTON

Usually, I love the dynamics of a cheeky woman puncturing the ego of a cocky guy.

I liked it in ’40s movies, and I liked it with Katie Couric and Bryant Gumbel, and Cybill Shepherd and Bruce Willis in “Moonlighting.”

So why don’t I like it with Michelle and Barack?

I wince a bit when Michelle Obama chides her husband as a mere mortal — a comic routine that rests on the presumption that we see him as a god.

The tweaking takes place at fundraisers, where Michelle wants to lift the veil on their home life a bit and give the folks their money’s worth.

At the big Hollywood fund-raiser for Senator Obama in February, Michelle came on strong.

“I am always a little amazed at the response that people get when they hear from Barack,” she told the crowd at the Beverly Hilton, as her husband stood by looking like a puppy being scolded, reported Hud Morgan of Men’s Vogue. “A great man, a wonderful man. But still a man. ...

“I have some difficulty reconciling the two images I have of Barack Obama. There’s Barack Obama the phenomenon. He’s an amazing orator, Harvard Law Review, or whatever it was, law professor, best-selling author, Grammy winner. Pretty amazing, right?

“And then there’s the Barack Obama that lives with me in my house, and that guy’s a little less impressive. For some reason this guy still can’t manage to put the butter up when he makes toast, secure the bread so that it doesn’t get stale, and his 5-year-old is still better at making the bed than he is.”

She said that the TV version of Barack Obama sounded really interesting and that she’d like to meet him sometime.

Many people I talked to afterward found Michelle wondrous. But others worried that her chiding was emasculating, casting her husband — under fire for lacking experience — as an undisciplined child.

At a March fund-raiser in New York, she tweaked her husband for not “putting his socks actually in the dirty clothes.”

And at a lunch last week with Chicago women, she gave the candidate a fed-up look about that melting butter and said, “I’m like: ‘You’re just asking for it. You know I’m giving a speech about you today.’ ”

She throws in nice stuff, too, about how he’s “the real deal” and a trustworthy “brother.” But this princess of South Chicago, a formidable Princeton and Harvard Law School grad, wants us to know that she’s not polishing the pedestal.

The Chicago Tribune profile of “Barack’s Rock” on Sunday noted that her career had caused her husband discomfort: “Critics have pointed out that her income has risen along with her husband’s political ascent. She sits on the board of a food company that supplies Wal-Mart, which Sen. Obama has denounced for its labor practices.”

The Obamas are both skeptical of hype. Michelle dryly told a reporter at her husband’s Senate swearing-in that perhaps someday, he would do something to earn all the attention he was getting.

But it may not be smart politics to mock him in a way that turns him from the glam J.F.K. into the mundane Gerald Ford, toasting his own English muffins. If all Senator Obama is peddling is the Camelot mystique, why debunk the mystique?

Besides, the coolly detached candidate, striving to seem substantive, is good at turning down the heat himself. He manages to tamp down crowds dying to be electrified. He resists surfing his own wave of excitement.

Michelle conveys the appealing idea that she will tell her husband when he’s puffed up or out of line. She aims high — she ordered her husband to stop puffing on cigarettes as he started campaigning. But then, why didn’t she see the red flags on the Rezko deal?

In order to get a bigger yard for their new house on Chicago’s South Side in 2005, the Obamas got into what the senator now confesses was a “boneheaded” real estate arrangement with a sleazy political dealmaker named Tony Rezko, who has been indicted on influence-peddling charges.

On Monday, The Chicago Sun-Times reported more shady Rezko news: “Obama, who has worked as a lawyer and a legislator to improve living conditions for the poor, took campaign donations from Rezko even as Rezko’s low-income housing empire was collapsing, leaving many African-American families in buildings riddled with problems,” from a lack of heat to no lack of drug dealers and squatters.

Mr. Obama riposted that “it wasn’t brought to my attention.” But isn’t that where a dazzling, tough, smart and connected wife could help a guy out?

bunching and more bunching

Even if not on time, it'll be online | Chicago Tribune

this morning i got so mad i almost ran into the street and cursed out the three bunched buses that passed me. unlike other mornings, i actually made it to the bus stop on time. i was there, reading, around 8.43 am. plenty of time to grab the #65 and go to work by 9 or 9.10.

in the distance, i can see a bus rumbling through a red light. it stops to load up the folks at the stop before mine. i can tell it's packed; you can see folks standing right next to the driver, pressed against the rails and facing the big front window. so i decide to wait for the emptier bus behind it - no biggie.

this is what's supposed to happen: the packed bus passes us and goes to the next stop, while the empty bus picks us up and they alternate. does that happen? no frakking way.

the packed bus stops at my stop and then stands there while the TWO empty buses roar past. what the hell? then, the packed bus squeezes in one more passenger and then IT roars off. i stand there, skipped by the two empty buses and blocked by the packed bus.

now, who the frak cares about GPS when the frakking buses come all in a bunch and empty buses pass passengers and packed buses block the empty ones??

can you tell me that, CTA, can you?!?
frak.

a freaking messy week

if you're hiding in your apartment because of taxes, the v-tech shootings and watching alberto gonzales gave you gas, then add one more thing to the mix: the SCOTUS decided this week to uphold a ban on 'partial birth abortions'. big deal, right? we wouldn't choose that procedure anyway.

sometimes, what we would 'choose' ain't the point. sometimes, like this week, the decision is made for us. read some excellent analysis at the handy dandy roundup from Alas: Round-up of posts about Gonzales v Carhart (Updated)

it's official: tarantino is an asshat

it is unlikely that i will see Grindhouse. while i liked Kill Bill and love robert rodriguez, the whole 'dirty movie theater experience' nostalgia has left me a little 'meh.' whatever. i mean, i can go to the Village if i wanna know what it's like to sit in gunk and watch trash.

but now that quentin tarantino has created a Rapist action figure, i can feel my 'meh' turning into an 'ick.'

[h/t to Bitch]

plug plug plug: She Speaks Volumes

it's Sexual Assault Awareness Month and She Speaks Volumes is one of the events happening in the city. the event last year was awesome and this one looks to be just as good:

She Speaks Volumes Poetry Poetry Slam & Panel Discussion

Presented in collaboration with Institute for the Study of Women and Gender in the Arts and Media, Columbia College, Chicago

The She Speaks Volumes poetry slam and panel discussion fuse art and activism to impact social change. In recognition of Sexual Assault Awareness Month, the event gives voice to the silence surrounding this issue. The event uses music and the arts to encourage young people to speak out against sexual violence and become activists for change in their local communities.

Featured artists, Diva Diction, are three powerful female poets both on page and on stage. Bassey descends from Nigeria, Amalia Ortiz from Mexico and Ishle Park from Korea. Their unique native roots may have originated from different countries but their cultured personalities blend powerfully together. All three women have competed in the National Poetry Slam and have been featured on Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry on HBO.

Special tribute will be paid to three outstanding women who demonstrate a commitment to anti-violence and social justice: Mary Jo Barrett, Executive Director and Co-Founder, Center for Contextual Change; C.C. Carter, Artist and Founder, Pow-Wow Inc.; and Kathy Kempke, Coordinator of Prevention Education, YWCA West Suburban Center.

When: April 26, 2007

Where: HotHouse
31 E. Balbo
Chicago, IL 60605
Doors open at 5:30 p.m.

Volunteer: For volunteer opportunities, contact us at events@ywcachicago.org

Tickets: Tickets for the event are $15. Click here to purchase tickets online. For VIP pricing, contact Tanisha Pleasant at 312.762.2743.

Contact: Tanisha Pleasant at 312.762.2743 or events@ywcachicago.org.

Join the artists for an afternoon discussion, "Where do we draw the line? Creative Expression vs. the Perpetuation of a Rape Culture."

April 26, 2007
Columbia College
Conaway Center
1104 S. Wabash, 1st Floor
Chicago, IL 60605
12 p.m.
Free admission

mr. tax man

so i'm in the process of making sure i render unto caesar exactly what i ought and find myself on the phone with a federal tax guy because of a scary letter i got in the mail last week.

'so...apparently, i under-reported my income for 2003? i swear, i filed electronically and i thought it took all three of my W2s!'
'ms. Ding...'

'really! i don't know what happened. maybe it timed out, maybe i just misunderstood - but i have all the W2s! i can refile! i'll do whatever - i just can't afford this back tax thing...it'll kill me.'
'ms. Ding...'

'and i don't know what happened with my other tax refunds, you know? for tax year 2003, 2004, 2005. i mean, did you guys take them, all of them? are you about to garnish my wages? am i in trouble? i SWEAR i'll send you all the supporting documents - and they took taxes out! i'm not trying to get away with anything!'

have i mentioned i'm having this conversation while i'm at work? everyone can hear my panic.

meanwhile, tax guy is either laughing at me or choking. 'ms. Ding, you're fine. yes, we took your refunds and applied them to your tax debt. but now you're square. you don't owe us anything. we owe you nothing. we're square.'

'are you serious? really? like, nothing?'
tax guy doesn't say anything for a while. 'like, nothing.'

'jeebus, thank goodness. you have no idea how happy you've just made me.'
'i don't believe you but i'll take your word for it.'
'so...the return i just filed now. i'll get that refund, right?'
tax guy sighs. 'yes.'
'thank you, ID number 0657398. i appreciate all your help. really.'
'my pleasure, ms. Ding.'

my motto: when under severe threat by the IRS, playing dumb and panicky is a perfectly acceptable survival method.

bringing it home: twisty on patriarchy

"Do you guys get, I mean actually get, that our society is a patriarchy? Patriarchy isn’t just a gimmick for a blog. It really exists. There are actual implications. Do you get that a patriarchy is predicated on exploitation and victimization? It’s not a joke! It’s not an abstract concept dreamed up by some wannabe ideologue making up catch-phrases while idling away the afternoons with pitchers of margs. Exploitation and victimization is the actual set-up! A person is either an exploiter or a victim, or sometimes both, but never neither.

This means me! This means you!

This means that, until patriarchy is smashed, we ain’t got a chance.

Meanwhile, do you guys see that there is no other possible outcome, in a society based on exploitation and victimization, than for the Don Imuses and the Daily Koses of the world to shit, frequently, on members of the lower castes? Shitting on the lower castes is a privilege built into the system. When exercised with macho aplomb, it attracts advertisers. It creates prestige. It makes money. It entertains the masses."

so. at the risk of contradicting my own self, what's it going to be? is civility really a solution or just a more palatable hidey hole for the exploiters?


[and i really dig that top 'graph.]