blogging miss america

Yeah, you read that right.
I'm blogging the Miss America pageant. Not the South Carolina Primary.

Because the pageant show numbers keep tanking, the show, contestants and the pageant itself are undergoing a 'radical' makeover. It's on cable (TLC) and now Miss America is supposed to embody 'America's It Girl.' I don't know how much of an improvement this is supposed to be. The Miss America reality show took the 52 contestants, gave them makeovers, including 'tips' on how to be more 'accessible' and less 'Barbie.'

What a great marketing ploy. Give us the competition in a language we can understand (reality makeover/competition) and market the actual pageant as the finale to the pageant's commercial, uh, reality show. Brilliant. They wanted to make Miss America more 'relevant' but showing them how to become a tabloid-worthy celebutante is the best way to do this? And who was going to show them how to do it? A Hollywood stylist, an editor from US magazine and a fashion photographer I've never heard of (but he had a British accent so he must know what he's talking about.)

It's good to know the people who trade in image, superficiality and total vanity are now the arbiters of 'relevance.'

let the blogging begin:

the parade of states

-Wow, they've gotten rid of the yucky state themed dresses and kept them in the reality show 'teams' and there isn't a big teased hairdo among them. And what perky little factoids. (Oklahoma has a nut you can't eat??)
- North Dakota just broke out a Fargo accent. Excellent.
- Miss Washington is an early favorite; she has two gay dads and asked how we like them apples. We like them fine!
- I also like Miss Utah; she's military, tough and doesn't care about makeup - and she's one of the older women. And she just took a potshot at the Osmonds! heh!
- Miss Alaska is cool; she's Native American and doesn't really mess around.
- Holy crap. They have a DJ. A DJ to entertain the women who are eliminated. How...relevant.
- wow! jackie joyner kersey isn't dead! (Why did I think she was dead?)

Semifinalists!
Michigan, Iowa (she can juggle fire), North Carolina, Tennessee (she hated Miss Alaska and I didn't really like that), California (typical - Roomie just said they're choosing the regular pageant types), Indiana, South Carolina (tall, dark, woman of color with great presence - and very faith based), Georgia, Washington (yay!!), Arkansas (wow, there are a lot of blondes), Virginia, Texas (she adores Kelly Ripa), Wisconsin, Florida (yawn), Mississippi.

- Dammit! I wanted Miss Utah in the semi finals!

- They do look better in the jeans and t-shirts, though.

- Wait. America voted for one more semi finalist! UTAH!!! YAYYYYY!

- Clinton Kelly, from the loser bleachers with the DJ: 'Just because you've become eliminated does not mean you are not FIERCE!' (Then he feeds them carbohydrates. Not problematic at all.)

- Hey, the big innovation in the pageant is the way the new Miss America walks...less robotic and more 'free.' Apparently female empowerment begins with your strut. Who knew?

The swimsuit competition:
- There's really nothing to say here; who needs to judge women's bodies anymore than they already are?
- Good thing they have a DJ...
- OK, ok. one comment - they are really fit. like, toned.
- Love it. Miss Utah breaks out the black one-piece, in a sea of bikinis. Love her.
- Losers: Tennessee (was she related to Al Gore?), Arkansas, Florida (wow, didn't see that coming), Mississipi (boo), Utah (Dammit! Oh, awesome - she's doing pushups! And now she has the whole line doing pushups! It's the best elimination ever), South Carolina (that's it for the black women in the competition)

Evening wear:
- Love: Virginia (a stunning black ballgown); Wisconsin (like a classic red Valentino); North Carolina (simple and elegant)
- Hate: Washington; Iowa; California (looks like a walking Oscar, according to my Roomie); Michigan (showgirl, anyone?); Texas; Georgia; Indiana (oy, a beaded breastplate)
- No evidence of any stylist 'tips' so far; almost everyone is wearing a dress studded with beads or sequins. This is modern how??

Talent:
- Michigan, singing Over the Rainbow - geez. Kill me.
- California - She's running onstage! Opera! She's a soprano! Roomie has identified it from Faust, the Jewel Song. My Roomie is good. It's killing me. I like her dress, though. Interesting, she looks like my boss.
- Indiana, singing Bandido - She's wearing a big flower in her hair. OMG - the song is in Spanish! She sounds like Cher singing in Spanish. Factoid: she's lived in South America. Too bad this song is from Mexico. Everyone in the audience is totally WTF??
- Virginia, ballet from The Nutcracker - I've always liked this part of the ballet...I love The Nutcracker...it reminds me of Christmas...oh, she's done?
- loser: Iowa (Hey! We didn't even get to see her baton throwing! They always get rid of the fun ones!)

Talent, part 2:
- Washington, singing Angels - Please don't suck....please don't suck ...She picked a song that's actually been played on the radio. Good for her. No Fliedermaus or weird tejano for her! Man, I hope we get a Miss America with two gay dads.
- Texas, wearing a top hat and white gloves - I sense jazz dance...gick. Way to ruin Bob Fosse choreography from Sweet Charity; let's bring back clog dancing! (Roomie would like it.)
- Wisconsin, violin - She has a degree in music and a minor in voice and went to Vanderbilt; love her dress. Real talent makes us feel better about the competition
- North Carolina, dance to a Muzaked Four Seasons - what's the point?
- loser: Georgia (hey, we didn't even get to see her perform!)

The questions, asked by ordinary folks in Las Vegas (heh):
- What would you do to improve America's image? Wisconsin says we need love for America by volunteering.
- Does someone with HIV have an obligation to tell their fiancee? Michigan says yes, if they respect their partners.
- Should celebrities promote their religious beliefs? Virginia says they have that right to voice their opinions.
- Low youth voting patterns and what could be done about it? Washington says there's a disconnect b/ youth and political process and more should be involved with Rock the Vote programs.
- Thoughts about Paris Hilton and culture of celebrity, where people are famous for nothing? California blames it on materialism and wrong priorities and Miss America is great!
- Binge drinking and 8th grade girls? Texas blames it on Lindsay Lohan and she'd tell them Lindsay sucks!
- Country is headed in the wrong direction, what to do? North Carolina blames the media and Lindsay Lohan! As Miss America she'd have the chance to be the right role model, not Lindsay Lohan!

(wow, Lohan is as big an enemy to the United States as Osama bin Laden...)

- Brittany Spears' sister is pregnant so should she be fired? Indiana says, no. Lots of girls are pregnant but they're not bad, they just made stupid mistakes; we all make mistakes and she needs to keep her job.

Finalists:
4th - North Carolina!
3rd - Virginia!
2nd - Washington! (dammit)
1st runner up - Indiana! (totally called it)
(come on Wisconsin...)
Miss America...
Michigan?!?

What the fuck?? She sang Over the Rainbow! Dude.
There goes relevance.

Final Grade: B+ (for the new streamlined show, the genius in marketing and the lack of pouf)
Relevance: C

(Oh, and Obama kept Clinton at 27-29% all night. Yeah, buddy.)

what??

i should be blogging for choice today (later, later) but instead i'm completely floored at this: Heath Ledger found dead in apartment -- Newsday.com

if there's an oscar telecast, the death montage will at last have someone we recognize in it.

(hey! i'm not the only one thinking it!)

Blog for Choice: there's no right without access

Let's talk about a great big elephant in the room before folks start celebrating the decreased need for abortion: access. From the Chicago Tribune article:

Bill Beckman, director of the Illinois Right to Life Committee, said he sees the national decline in abortion numbers as a victory for anti-abortion efforts."A number of states over the last five or six years have enhanced their pro-life laws, such as requirements for informed consent and parental notice," said Beckman. "When those laws take effect, the rate of abortion drops. I think the data they're getting is reflecting that change."

What Beckman calls an 'enhancement', I call 'building a financial box around women to make sure they're forced to give birth.'

Clinics offering abortion services are in a decline all over the country; in fact, since 2000, 77 clinics have closed and only 29 have opened. For some women in urban areas - with private doctors and access to a wide range of family planning options - access might not be such a hardship (yes, I know there are other circumstances that could slow down access to abortion in urban areas, like cash, but let's just deal with this.)

But for women in rural areas, travel could mean driving up to 50 miles to get to the nearest abortion provider. To get there and back, that woman would most likely have to schedule time off work taken as a sick day (perhaps an unpaid sick day and perhaps more than one day, particularly if that state requires a nonsensical 'waiting' period), loss of wages, perhaps arrangement of childcare for her other children (which adds to that woman's economic burden), increased travel expenses (i.e., gas) and just the physically wearying fact that she is driving to another county or state for a doctor's appointment.

I don't know about you, but I get pissed off if I have to go outside of my area code to see my ob/gyn, much less another state. And what does it cost me? A walk down the street from my office for a few blocks or, at most, a $7 cab ride if I take a cab from my house.

It is an undue hardship for a woman in downstate Illinois, or another rural area, to take two days off work for her abortion. Roadblocks to access basically put a woman needing an abortion between the proverbial rock and financial hard place. I think it's neat how the anti-choice folks have cut off a woman's reproductive rights from other realities in her life, like the economic ones. For them what's important is the unborn child; nevermind that there is a material cost to a woman's life if she has a child her life can't support (for whatever reason that it can't.)

In this next election there are some things to think about, the most important of which will be deciding which candidate will be able to ensure women have access to full reproductive health services. A lot of my friends are comfortable if Roe v. Wade stands, but can we rely on that? Speaking with a lawyer friend tonight, she said that Roe v. Wade is probably one vote short of being knocked over in our forseeable future. We can probably anticipate 2-3 Supreme Court vacancies in the immediate future. Which Presidential candidate will have the best chance to appoint Supreme Court justices willing to uphold Roe v. Wade? Can we safely rely on a Huckabee, a Romney, an Edwards or an Obama to act in women's best interests? Or can we only rely on a Clinton?

And action on the SCOTUS isn't the only thing to worry about. At the state level, over the past decade, states have become more aggressive in introducing legislation to limit, if not outright ban, access to abortion; states like Kansas, Missouri, The Dakotas, Wyoming, Utah, Iowa, Colorado, Mississippi, Kentucky, West Virginia, South Carolina and Arkansas either already have, or are in the process of introducing, some of the most restrictive laws to affect a woman's right to control her own fertility. States aren't backing away from this fight; anti-choice grassroots lobbying has proven most effective at this level, while we scramble to keep a fricking clinic open in Aurora. (You can check out the states with the least access to abortion at the Abortion Acess Project website here.)

What will happen in Illinois if our next governor is Republican? (Not so inconceivable, considering how Blago is alienating absolutely everyone.) Will the women of Illinois still enjoy access to birth control without the interference of pharmacists? Will we be able to rely on timely access of Plan B birth control? Will we be able to rely on the shrinking number of clinics that offer a wide range of reproductive health services to women? Or will we suddenly have to familiarize ourselves with the days of the underground Jane network, like back in the day? Will we find our family planning needs taking a back seat to a man's outdated, patriarchal ideas of female sexuality and autonomy? Will we suddenly find ourselves planning group trips to Canada or New York or California for a simple doctor's appointment?

The right to control our fertility does not exist if we do not have access to those services that allow us to control our fertility. Access isn't just for the women, like me, who have good medical benefits and live in a city and can rattle off where the nearest Planned Parenthood clinic is; it's for women who make barely minimum wage and live in places like Bloomington, Alton or Aurora and there's no one around to help them. And that's what the issue of access means to me: helping women get over the situation they find themselves in, not making them stew in it for months or years because it justifies a stranger's religion. How does it help that woman to wait days to get done what she already decided days ago? How does it help a woman when we make her empty her wallet to visit a doctor? How does it help a woman when you force her to give birth and take away her ability to control her own fertility?

I guess it doesn't.

ugh. the economy

yuck.

checking out today's business pages is a depressing act. so depressing that i'm looking at the phone number for my Fidelity guy and wondering if i should give him a call. not that there's anything he can do about my teeny tiny retirement fund, but dude! is my fund going to completely tank??

better than 'our bodies, our selves'

last night, we were hanging out with some friends for game night and, when we got tired of games, we went on YouTube. they found this clip and i was stunned.

first - what in the holy deep fried hell?? (thanks, Sid, for that.)
second - what man was this alexyss dating to make her so crazy?
third - she said all this in front of her mother??

anyway. watch and marvel.

i'm heartbroken. really, i am.

i just have to share this, a message i got when i told a guy on BP that we didn't have enough in common to date - which was an understatement:

i think your stuck up and the way you come off makes you lest than a woman, i was not trying to hook up with you , i was trying to take you out on a
decent date, how you miscontrue the two with your itellingence level makes
me wonder, and as for you being mean to me you might want to stay in your
place as a lady and a preacher daughter, no matter how much education you
have it doesn't put me on a lesser level than you, if had of known you was
like this i would have never aprach you, be sure that i want bother you
again, and i reiterate please don't call yourself getting mean with me.

sigh. i'm sure that there's a perfect woman out there for him.

uh, ok.

this link was anonymously sent to me at my other blog, ChurchGal.
why? i have no idea, but i can't look away.
did anyone else know venus was engaged? i had no clue!
(because, you know, she and i are bestest buds.)

illinois is in the dumps

the ctba released a study on illinois' economy in december and here it is. (well, the executive summary, anyway.)

major findings:
job creation in the state lags behind other states
wages are declining
low wage jobs are replacing good ones
there are real differences in workforce populations, skills and experiences (race is not unimportant here)

these are the issues that we should be discussing during this election year, rather than hillary's 'shrillness' or obama's 'magical negritude.'

don't you think?

i'm sorry, what?

a Star Wars TV show??
how the hell did i miss that?

Star Wars: Live-Action Star Wars TV Will Satisfy Your Boba Fettish

soo...about that free ride for seniors...
i had a call at the office yesterday from a Gov staffer who tried to get us to go to a press conference this morning, geared to drum up support of Gov Rod's free ride for seniors. on the surface, i'm all for it. why not give seniors a free ride on public transportation? but then (and the Gov never seems to do this) i started to think about what a free ride will cost. (because there's never really a 'free' ride.)

dude. the trib estimates that this could cost around $19 million; yesterday, i was in a policy meeting and all the folks there (who've been around springfield a long time) rolled their eyes and scoffed. 'what's next,' some guy said. 'lollipops and clowns for everyone?' to me, that meant the governor is on crack.

i can't wait until the governor is up for reelection. let's hope the dems have some other kind of candidate waiting in the wings.

it had to happen eventually: now hillary's a bad date

articles like this are eventually going to make me vote for hillary, if this crap continues much longer.

i can't help but regret the moment that happened in journalism when it suddenly became ok to make really weak (and problematic) pop cultural references when it came to serious politics.

this is not to say that no one should be talking about the dynamics of race and gender in this election. we are at an important moment in our history where a woman or a person of color stand a very good chance of becoming the most powerful person in the country. it is a moment important for us as well as for those who are watching this election process. (i can't help but remember the time i was helping a friend run focus groups in amsterdam on black political identity and meeting afro dutch students who told us they looked to the political success of black americans to show them how to reach the same level of parity in their own country. i was humbled at how closely, and hungrily, we are watched by others internationally.)

but a column like this, comparing our reactions to hillary clinton to 'dating' or bad chick lit, only trivializes how important this election is. i understand daum is trying to dismantle and critique the sexist overtones of our election coverage but there has to be a better way of doing it; there has to be a way of opening a dialogue about our national resistance to a woman in power without replicating those same sexist patterns.

i wonder if i can lay the fault of this unfortunate tripe at MoDo's door?

stupidity, crappy article: which is more annoying?

Sexism, Racism: Which Is More Taboo?

because, you know, the two are TOTALLY separate. no intersections at all. no intertwined histories. no complex negotiations of privilege or anything.

thanks, AP, for adding so much to our national discourse on race and gender.

(on that note, i'm going home.)

the wilds of online dating

so how are things on the 'dating' front?

well, there was a brief setback last week when i discovered that, horror of horrors, B- is now in a relationship. my horror and dismay was not from jealousy; there was no regret that things hadn't worked out between us. (though there is much evidence of my inconsistency here.) no, my dismay and shock came from an irrational sense of competition.

"how dare he, the most lonely and dysfunctional of men, have a relationship while i don't! at least i'm working on my issues, dammit." i'm not proud of my pettiness; i just acknowledge that it exists.

anyway, a friend reminded me of my many vows to leave B-'s eeyore-like specter behind and so, finally, i am. (it helps that i'm confident B-'s inherent lack of generosity will doom his relationship in a few months no matter how often he goes jogging.) as i leave the weirdo behind, i look to the future and what do i see?

i see more weirdos.
i'm on blackplanet and, lord help me, it's sort of depressing. it's almost as bad as those christian dating sites i tried years ago. my kingdom for a man who can spell and use punctuation correctly! i'm tired of telling black men no, i don't have kids. make of that what you will.

are the men i've met there weird because they don't use standard english? no. most of them are weird because they live in the burbs and can't say anything that doesn't sound like a R&B cliche. i'd also give my left nipple for a little bit of banter.

(there was this one guy who thought he was being funny when he said that he'd buy me dinner, drinks and give me a warm place to stay for folding his laundry. it took everything in me not to get snippy. enough women have been snippy to these guys, it seems but, lord, trying to communicate with these guys is drying up my very small well of patience!)

i'll keep looking, though. there's gotta be a black/brown equivalent to me out there, somewhere. right?

fashion friday: uemura dead

Shu Uemura, 79, Makeup Artist, Dies - New York Times

ah, farewell, master of curled lashes.

just got back from lunch at the union league where i heard former secretary of albright speak. what a really smart, funny woman! her new book is out and i think y'all should pick it up.

my feet are killing me, though. high heels at a working lunch is a bad idea.

to white folks: shuck & jive is NOT 'bob & weave'

Pandagon :: Andrew Cuomo on Obama: ‘You Can’t Shuck And Jive’ at a press conf :: January :: 2008

dude.
really?

that's like the time my white, liberal, lesbian (i.e., 'should have known better') dissertation chair said to me (while i was helping her carry some things for our seminar): "Ding, thanks so much, but I really can't have you be my step and fetchit."

oh, yes, she did! Step 'n Fetchit.

i suppose, nowadays, that would be synonymous with, um, 'helpful grad student.'

but, boy howdy, i sure am glad racism is dead, though.

politics, lube and motorcycles

last election time, my dreams got really weird. last night was no exception:

i was a junior level person in a big chicago ad agency. every friday, the whole agency got together to screen a few inhouse commercials created by staffers from old or lost client pitches. i worked for one of the big creative guys but secretly dreamed of striking out on my own. i give him his coffee one day and he says to me, 'hey, the next screening is yours. see what you can do with this lube client we never got.'

the friday morning screening arrives. the office is packed and chaotic. i'm losing my mind, organzing the logistics and freaking out that these very mean people are going to look at a commercial created by a glorified executive assistant. the woman who owns the agency (who looks like my old boss) snits at me and steals my seat. the lights lower and the commercial begins. it's dirty and funny, a weird piece of animation about a middle aged boss, his brown secretary and a bottle of lube, set to the Lily Allen/Mark Ronson song 'Oh My God'; the lady CEO and the creative guys want to know who made it, they're demanding who made it, they're clamoring for it then -

the dream changes and i'm in iowa, hanging out with a very angry michelle obama. barack is still out on his motorcycle and hasn't come back from the caucuses. his entire team is there and they all look like roadies for a jam band - bearded, sort of beer-bellied, older and boozy. the wife is angry, there's a strange woman no one wants to talk to hanging out with a cute young guy who's clearly biracial, and i have no idea what i'm doing there. barack comes back, looking very un-political in a leather motorcycle outfit and birkenstocks. he's smoking a cigarette.

he wants us all to come out riding with him, michelle is still angry (though she gives in later), the roadies/team love it, i don't have a motorcycle but that's ok. obama says i can ride with him. so off we go, blazing down a dark road, a political motorcycle gang. then barack drives his bike over a freeway, we dive into a pile of corn, and have an impromptu barbecue with some corn farmers and drink a load of Rolling Rock. while obama is off chatting with farmers, i'm hanging out with the cute mysterious biracial guy, michelle, the bearded campaign manager, and the strange woman in a nearby pub. in a gravelly voice, the campaign manager is about to reveal a big, serious, election damaging secret when -

the tension is just too much and i force myself to wake up.

here is my navel

you may have noticed that i haven't been posting as much lately and what i have posted isn't exactly good. i don't know what it is. it's not that i've lost the juice for this blog but there just isn't much to say right now.

about politics? i'm marginally hopeful about the dems' progress though i'm pretty sure that, in the end, the great machine of our society will continue to roll over the marginalized people who live in it.

about sex? i'm not having any.

about gender politics? patriarchy still sucks and stupid stupid men make me want to smash their scrotal sacs with a hammer.

about pop culture? i can't look at another headline documenting the lengthening downward spiral of our celebutantes.

about religion? blick.

about my life? actually, things are going pretty good. i like where and what i am right now.

do i want to continue to contribute to the babble/babel out here? i don't know. i think i want to write other things now, while still interacting with an audience the way i have here, but what that'll look like, i don't know.

oh, i'm not bowing out. i'm just reconsidering things.

my obsession: weddings in the times

aw, sweet.
and then there's this one. she looks like someone i could have worked with when i was at deloitte.

ok, enough wedded bliss. back to work.

Take the Plan B Survey!

Overheard in the Loft, New Year's Edition:

(Roomie and Ding, sitting on the couch, dressed in stretchy pants and sweaters, totally hungover, with heartburn from the night before.)

Ding: Oh, look. Buckaroo Banzai.
Roomie: I loved that movie.
Ding: Me, too.
(watching movie...)
Buckaroo: ...because no matter where you go...
Ding/Roomie (intoning): ...there you are.
(staring at each other in horror)
Roomie: We just turned a page, didn't we?

...
(Last night, Roomie and Ding are drained after their first day back at work, sitting on the couch, watching Make me a Supermodel.)

Ding: He looks like a belltower sniper.
Roomie: Ohmygod! I *just* thought the exact same thing! I thought it and then it came out your mouth! Ding, we're too creepy!
Ding: It's true. Our minds have finally melded.

got some post-holiday cash? shop here:

figleaves.com - Bras, Panties, Swimsuits, and Full Figure Lingerie

since i bought stuff for everyone else but me this year, i'm treating me to some new underwear.
they are having the most kick ass sale ever! the site carries high end and affordable brands - from Wacoal to Felina to Playtex - and i just bought three really cute bras for under $100!

but why should you really check them out?
because, unlike some other places (ahem), they actually carry sizes for women whose tits can't fit into a teacup.

toward the end of our last session, Dr. C- said, 'in order to address what triggers your resistance to intimacy we need to see you in a relationship. so you need to start dating.'

gack.

she recommended i go back online since the normal places people date each other (work, social circle, church, extra curricular activities) are, for me, completely estrogen-filled. but this was her caveat: 'you must be honest about what it is you want and try to avoid men who just want to fool around. you said you wanted companionship, so look for qualities that would make for a good companion.'

i complained, 'that means i won't get laid until well into 2008!'
she sighed. 'ding, if all you want to do is get laid, go out and get laid. but you said you don't want to do that.'
'i know.'
'that's why we're pretending B- has moved.'
'i know. you're right. companion. ok.'

so where am i going to find this companion?
i can forget about nerve; the only folks on there are erectile dysfunctional one night stands. i've done that, already, thank you very much. match was horrific; eharmony sent me youth pastors from lombard and sad, divorced dads living on the illinois-wisconsin border. where can i go next?

chemistry. i think it's supposed to be eharmony-lite. no 29 dimensions, but still a really long personality test (i'm a Director/Negotiator, heavy on the Director bit) and incremental communication steps. the good thing is that they send you matches right away; none of eharmony's esteem-killing, months-long waiting to see a profile. but, again, my honest needs are resulting in suburban divorced dads. i don't know what it is going on. is my inner self suburban? is there a Willow Creek, twin set housewife inside me, just waiting to wander out?

i shudder to think.

anyway, i'll keep all 5 of my readers posted.
...
on the B- front, i've been fairly successful in pretending he lives in another state. at this time of year, i'd usually be planning how i could convince him to spend a long weekend with me in my neighborhood. (such planning would meet with staunch resistance and i'd spend christmas seething silently about why he won't cross town on a bus to see me.) this year, i'm completely uninterested. i mailed him one very impersonal christmas card and, yesterday, when he dared to bait me by saying 'maybe if you got in shape you wouldn't need therapy' and you could think clearly' i politely ignored his rudeness and just said back to him 'i guess we all get in shape in different ways. my therapist is helping me see things a LOT more clearly, thanks.'

yes, i could have called him an asshat, but what would that accomplish?

there's nothing going on here at the office so i'm online looking at smartphones.
i have a regular palm pilot but i don't get email on it; it means i'm juggling between my work laptop, palm and mobile phone. it's not like i'm some high-powered consultant, but it would be nice to have everything in one place.

(and, frankly, if i make my professional move in the next year or so to a bigger agency or a faster environment, then i'll need a phone/PDA option with more oomph.)

i kinda like the Treo 680 and i like the Centro (but the Centro looks a little light to handle some of my work stuff.) the Curve is gorgeous. so is the Pearl, but it looks a little cold to me. it's important to have a smartphone with some warmth.

slowly, i'm making my way into the digital age. i tiptoed over to look at an ipod the other day and looked at the cute little shuffle; i'm afraid that owning anything created after 2001 may break my laptop. is that irrational? it seems irrational. i even pondered getting a new laptop (but then what will i pay for italy with?) it would be great to be completely digitally upgraded.

i should go home, shouldn't i?

dammit. i knew it was getting harder for me to string more than two complex thoughts together.

[thanks, Orange!]

merry merry!

i'm back at the office.

is there more to be said?
...
plans for the upcoming holiday break:
a slumber party for me and some girl friends at my place
volunteering at church
the carol service at church
a party
hanging out with a friend and his partner after a conference
greedily watching the 3rd season of Dr. Who all by myself
catching some movies (Juno, Margot at the Wedding, Sweeney Todd)
reading comic books
drinking

oh, and maybe adding another section to the Worst Romance Novel Ever.

that's a pretty cool holiday plan, if i say so myself.

when will i learn? never ever eat vegan. never. not even non-vegan fare served from a vegan kitchen.

i went to therapy today (rough) and went to a local cafe to decompress and read for a bit (it gets really lonely in the loft during the day). atomix. they're nice. the space is nice. the coffee is ok, i guess. (sort of gritty and burnt tasting but, whatever, it's coffee.) twice i'd been grossly disappointed with their muffins, which could be used for doorstops; so this time i went for the non-vegan peanut butter cookie.

grossly disappointed again! it was as big as a saucer, a half inch thick, and hard as a rock. i needed two hands to break that fucker into adamantine pieces so i could dip it into my coffee and gnaw on it. no flavor and utterly unappetizing as either a cookie or anything resembling a sweet snack. dude. i made better peanut butter cookies when i was in grade school.

i want to support indie cafes, i do. but only if their food doesn't translate into 'inedible snackage only a person with dead taste buds could love.'
...
as for therapy, issues covered today included: dead mom (the rough part), dad, hating the church of my childhood, dating, and finally moving on from, uh, B-. (the exact words Dr. C- used were "In order for you to grow, we have to pretend that B- has moved.")

the good parts

I've been reading the 'good parts' since going to church, during the old pastor's sermons in my childhood. I wasn't allowed to sneak in my own books anymore ("You have to be an example, Ding.") so I'd take my mother's white leather bible and look for the good parts: the fornication, the adultery, the incest, the Song of Solomon. ("tee hee, he said breasts!")

My sister wasn't so into the good parts, but I was; it was like they had a secret to whisper to me. But at the time, all I ever learned was never bathe openly on a roof so the king can see you (David/Bathsheba), don't make cakes for your drunk brother (Absolom/Tamara), and don't get caught in a cave with your dad after a cataclysm (Lot/Daughters).

On the bus the other night, I thought briefly about my lifelong attraction to the 'good parts,' the erotic or the downright naughty bits of literature, or anything, really. It seems that was my childhood bent - to touch my nose to the faintly oderous drawers of Sin and then put them away for a while until I had to sniff again. Why did I think about this on the bus? Because it was dark and the snow was falling and my eyes kept going to a very young thing across the aisle from me. He was talking to a friend and every two stops or so, I'd find myself glancing at him. It got to a point I just contented myself with watching him avidly through the window's reflection.

For the past weeks, I've been weak, drawn, muffled and startled by pain as my guts knit themselves back together. But now, as the pain recedes, strength returns and so does a particular alertness. On the bus, as I took in this very young thing with my eyes, I finally understood the corny romance novel phrase he drank her in. I felt like an alcoholic finally allowed one glass of wine or a vampire guzzling the contents of a vein. (Actually, I also felt like a dirty old woman. Bah.) Then, when he was gone so was my itchy, uncomfortable thirst. I was able to eat dinner with friends and gave the short bus ride no other thought.

Until now. I'm looking out at the gray afternoon, watching the smoke rising from chimneys. Everything looks cozy and snug, like a Dickens scene. The cold outside creates a desire for warmth inside. I've been reading all day and there is something so pleasurable about spending the day bundled up with a book that other pleasures also come to mind.

How twisted is is when these thoughts all come together inside my head: church, bible, reading, lust, prohibition, discovery, restraint, pain, pleasure.

i think i've watched all the tv i can reasonably bear.

so...i am going to venture forth today. the sky is grey but it's still sunny and i want to be outside. i'll get a cup of coffee. maybe i'll sit in a dark theater for hours. or maybe i'll slowly walk around a mall and shop for holiday cards. or maybe i'll buy a book and find a bar to sit in and read for a few hours.

then i'll come back home and (gasp) write. (maybe even something for Bitch.) yeah...write. i haven't written anything worthwhile in ages. well, at least it's a goal.

[update:
still haven't left the house. it took me 45 minutes to get ready, then i tried on a pair of cute new jeans i bought just before the surgery and guess what? the fuckers don't fit! after just one week!! i'm depressed. there is this roll of extra belly just above my scar and it won't fucking go away. so now i'm back up a dress size - when one week ago i was on my way to being down two!!

it's vain, i know, but i want to cry. fucking agatha.]

giving thanks for catering service

but i'm in no shape to cook a whole freaking dinner. my solution? get someone else to cook it for me.

i cannot say enough about not cooking. (isn't that what being a feminist means during the holidays? the expectation NOT to cook?) why get all hot and sweaty and tired (and smelling like stuffing) when you're about to have people over? i used to watch my mother ramp up into a fine resentful boil every thanksgiving afternoon so that, by the time guests arrived, she was completely off her rocker. it wasn't pretty so i decided early on to save myself all that hassle.

i love having friends over and feeding them - i just hate cooking. i hate the timing, the rush, the uncertainty, and the inability to snatch victory from the jaws of culinary defeat.

so i ordered a dinner for 6. the friends are bringing wine, dessert and side dishes, i'm 'doing' the rest.

thanks, fox & obel. you're the best.

(happy thanksgiving to everyone. don't pig out too hard.)

When people describe Something (war, architecture or poverty) as a ‘scar across the landscape’, I don’t think they mean that Something (war, architecture or poverty) was black, scabby, bruised and held together with bloodstained strips of adhesive.

I’ve been looking at my scar, my wound, for the past three days. I take a little silver hand mirror and put it on the sink. Then I pull up my shirt, pull down my pants and, holding up my belly a little, I lightly touch the bruised skin above the scar. It looks like my skin has turned into a smashed plum. The scar slashes across the top of my pudenda; it’s about 3 or 4 inches long. The scar is the ugliest, grossest thing I’ve ever seen on my body.
…
A few days before the surgery, I thought of the virginal way I think about my body. By ‘virginal’ I mean that I hold my body aggressively to myself. Thinking of my body as ‘virgin’ has nothing to do with sex or chastity. I don’t know how to explain it; I just think of my body as mine. It is inviolate; it is whole; it is the same as it has always been; it has all its original parts; it is not shared by anyone or anything. No flag has been planted on it, by marriage or motherhood.

But this surgery, as minor as it was, has changed my body’s landscape.
Where there was previously nothing, now there waves a tiny white flag with a red cross on it.

after the knife

it's day 3 in Room 1471 and i'm waiting to fart.
actually, i just did.

why this preoccupation with farting? because when you've had your guts cut into and rearranged, making sure your bowels are in working order is pretty damn important. so in addition to waking me up every two hours to check on my pain, they've also been asking me if i've farted, yet. and so, yes, i have. at 6.07 am, i have farted and my bowels are in good working order.

a word to the ladies of chicago: if you need work done, or need to have a baby, the new Prentice is the place to have it. i have a single room, a flat screen tv, access to my internet, a great view of the MCA and the lake and the nurses here are so super nice. the floors are hardwood, the walls are (wait, another fart) also wood and you'd think you were in a cute boutique hotel rather than a hospital.

being a patient is so alarming. the weakness is a surprise. realizing how vulnerable your body is - but also how resilient - is amazing. the day of my surgery, just 8 hours later, i could barely move my legs to the side of the bed. it took all my strength to lift my head from my pillow. but this morning, i've been up since 5, i've changed into my own gown and robe, washed up, peed (and farted!), walked around a bit, been examined and made my bed.

of course, the pain meds help, too. oh, the meds. i love you. you are my friend.

and i love my friends. they came en masse yesterday to visit and we had to close the door, we got a little loud. thank you, friends, and thank you to folks who've been emailing me their best wishes. they've been gratefully appreciated.

ok, i guess i should tell someone i've farted.

before the knife

i had a session with my therapist last friday.
how perfect, before entering the great beyond, to see that my current issues could all be set at the feet of my childhood church upbringing. it's good to get all this out in the open before potentially shuffling off this mortal coil.

Dr. C- asked me, 'why can't you make yourself vulnerable to your partners?'

i shrugged. 'well, i don't really see that they have their shit together; if they don't have their shit together, then how can they help me?'

she said, 'harsh.'

i said, 'true. but i didn't have any really good models of male competence when i was growing up.' i explained briefly about growing up in a very hierarchical environment. 'my dad's church was filled with men in positions of power who were so stupid, so incompetent i just felt...contemptuous of them. i thought that if i showed how extremely competent and talented i was, then their whole thinking about women's natural inferiority would be exposed as bogus. it made me hyper competitive against them. my thinking was - is - you don't make yourself vulnerable to an opponent.'

'interesting.' she wrote something down.

and so i told her the story of taking one of my dad's classes on hermeneutics when i was in college. i was the only woman and the rest of the students were seminary students or young ministers with churches already under their charge. halfway through the class, my father said the men in the class came to him and said my presence made them uncomfortable and could he tell me not to come to class anymore.

'how did that make you feel?'

'angry,' i said. 'they couldn't even tell me to my face; they had to go to my dad and have him deliver the message. fucking infuriated me.'

'and your father? how did you feel about his asking you to stop going to the class?'
'angry. i was his daughter. and he asked me to take a back seat to spare the feelings of men he knew were second rate.'
'he didn't defend you, take up for you.'
'no, he didn't.'

she wrote in her notebook again.

at the end of the session, Dr. C- gave me my instructions for the next session (after i am suitably mobile again.) apparently, it's all about examining messages i received about myself by the time i was 10, making myself open to accept help from friends (as practice) and inviting B- to thanksgiving dinner.

yeah. i might have to fail that assignment.
...
anyway, cross your fingers for me. i should be back home on the weekend and the next 5 weeks will be full of drug-addled reflections and new therapeutic revelations.

sigh.

Hail, the Conquered Hero - Dick Cavett - Opinion - New York Times Blog

i tried to come up with something snarky about this but i just can't.
dick cavett's sophisticated whiteness might be too much for me.

there may be some residual hostility...

Roomie and I stood at our kitchen counter going through our morning vitamin/pill ritual.

"So," I said. "I had this dream last night."
She turned around. "I had *crazy* dreams last night, too! But - you first."

"So I'm living in New York - "
"Just you?"
"Just me."
"And was this after the cocktail party?" Roomie makes fun of me and my dreams because, in them, I am always at a party. I cannot help that my subconscious makes me out to be Holly Golightly.

"Yes," I said. "And then Al Pacino stopped by to say hello." Yes, celebrities often made an appearance in my dreams. "Anyway, I'm living in New York. My sister and her family are coming out for a visit. They are bringing with them a Filipino surfer guy and his sister. Who are these people? I have no idea. But, apparently, I have a big enough apartment for all of them.

"Anyway, they arrive and the Filipino surfer dude says to me, 'Hey, I think I know someone who knows you and he's going to be here in New York for a thing and it would be great to see him, so is it ok if he stops by so we can play XBox?'"

Roomie interrupts. "I love how the guys in your dreams all talk like girls."
"They do, don't they?"
"They're so chatty."
"So I like my guys girly. Anyway, I say to Filipino surfer guy 'I can't think of who I know that you know but ok. Whatever.'

"The guy comes by, I open the door and GUESS who it is? It's B-! I'm like, 'What the fuck?!' He's all like, 'What the fuck?!' and all I can think of is how totally random my life is, how it's filled with these crazy, weird coincidences that make me nuts.

"My sister and her family go sightseeing and I'm left in the apartment with Filipino surfer guy and B-. B-, of course, is quiet. I'm just hanging out at the back of the apartment wondering how the hell this just happened. Then, suddenly, a masked intruder breaks into the apartment and KILLS B-! He shoots him in the head! I'm all 'What the hell? They killed B-!' Filipino surfer guy is totally traumatized and he's like, 'That was totally unneccessary and harsh!'

"My sister and her husband get back from sightseeing and are absolutely horrified. All they can say is how glad they were the kids weren't home to see this. Filipino surfer guy and I are sitting on the curb, smoking cigarettes while we watch the crime scene team do their thing and roll out B-'s body under a sheet. Heh."

Roomie said, "And you laugh. You are so twisted. I shudder at the thought of whatever psychotic break you'll have when you're tanked up on pain meds after your surgery."

I ignored her. "Anyway, Filipino surfer guy is really broken up about it and he's like, 'But you...you guys were a thing. How are you?' And I have to admit that there's shock that this crazy random crap keeps happening to me, but I'm not that broken up about it. And then it's like that skit at the Second City Show, where the guy tries to cry but can't? Yeah, I'm like that. I'm unh-unh, trying to cry and I got nothin'. And that's when I wake up."

Roomie just stared at me. I smiled.

Then she said, "This was my dream. I'm waiting to pick you you up at work. You come out and you have a dead body with you. What the fuck? You sort of roll it on the ground in front of Corner Bakery and you say, "You have to help me get rid of the body." And you're dressed in high heels and looking girly and I'm still, What the fuck? Who is he? You keep telling me he's just some guy from a meeting; all I can see is this shock of white hair. But you, of course, can't lift him into the trunk. And there are people all around! No one notices this! Some firemen come by and wanna know if you need assistance and you’re waving at them and saying ‘Hi!’ and just flirting with everyone, pissing me off, and so I just get grr! And lift the dead guy over my shoulder and dump him in the trunk. He flips over and GUESS who it is?”

I was agog. “Who? Bill Clinton?”
“It was B-!”

To say that I laughed my ass off would not convey just how hilarious I thought this was.

2007 Haiku Festival

clearly, china just isn't exciting enough for jp.
you can drop a haiku over at his 2007 Haiku Festival.

all work and no play...

while coming home on the bus one night last week i realized that my surgery is next week and my Need to Get Laid Clock is ticking and no frolic is in sight.

i'm a lasagna of tension about the upcoming date. the first layer is, of course, the celibacy frustration. then there's the tiny, hard wire of anxiety when i allow myself to think about the procedure for more than a few minutes. and laid on top of all that is some work stress. if last week made me bleed from my eyes, this next week might just make my head explode. our legislative agenda and government relations strategy won't write itself and i need to wrap up my desk so it won't fall into chaos by the time i return after the New Year.

letting go of work for this long is hard for me; Dr. C- asked what i think of work and my place in it and i told her that i am my best self at work. i am intuitive, quick, focused, funny, strong, supportive, assertive and i hit my targets. in short, it's at the office where i know what the fuck i'm doing. it's outside of work that my footing is less sure. clearly, there will be plenty of time to think about that while i'm on medical leave.

(did my parents love their work? maybe. before the showdown with his associate pastor, i believe my father loved his work. my mom, well - ok, she hated her coworkers and her job gave her a stroke. my parents might not be good models.)

sometimes i think that women who love our work almost exist in shadows. stories about us on television or in print make us out to be angry, dour, dysfunctional, bitter, unnatural, mannish or weird - even if we're running for President. teachers, doctors, do-gooders and artists get to love their work; after all, they're shaping minds, helping people, and creating shit. the rest of us, if we talk about our work, no matter our work, our stories are required to have a begrudging or sheepish quality; we work, you know, because we have to. we're only working, you know, to pay for what we really wanna do. if we all won the lotto, we'd stop working in a heartbeat and spend the rest of our time helping people and traveling the world.

i just wish i could hear more about women who not only love working but really like what they do. with all these articles over the past five years about 'opting out,' 'off ramping' or 'dropping out', you'd think not a single woman likes her work. wouldn't it be great to hear about women who are excited about their work, who find their work energizing and thrilling? wouldn't it be a welcome change to read an article about a woman who baldly says, 'I freaking love what I do. I'm fucking great at it and it makes my nipples tingle.' or maybe that's just me.

you know, this post was supposed to be about how pissed i am that i haven't had sex since labor day, and probably won't until after january 2008, but it turned out to be about work. huh.

a note to non profits everywhere:

is it too much to ask that your staff have the teeniest amount of professionalism??
it's unfair, i know. non profits operate in a stressful environment of lack. but great big baby jesus.

have some basic phone skills!
when you're tracking attendence for a policy meeting, have the location and date already arranged!
don't ask me if i'm coming and then act all cagey about where and when the meeting is!
know who it is you're talking to! no, i'm NOT the united way, the red cross or the girl scouts!
don't talk so fast i have no idea who you are or where you're coming from!
you're giving me a headache and i will hang up on you!

i know your mission is in the right place but do your employees know what the hell they're doing?

it's rare that i miss working in a corporate envirionment. but this day got on my last frakking nerve, man.

action alert: tell springfield to take action on public transit!

from the good folks at the Center for Tax & Budget Accountability:


If Springfield does not pass legislation to increase transit funding, CTA and Pace will implement substantial service cuts and fare increases on November 4th.


Call your legislator...Today. You can impact the negotiations in Springfield by calling your legislator right now.

The Illinois House reconvenes today in anticipation of calling a vote on the mass transit bill tomorrow, Friday, Nov 2. Originally brought to the Illinois House floor on September 4, the bill garnered 61 votes (5 Republicans voted with the bill), but lacked 10 votes for a supermajority to override an anticipated veto from the governor.

To see a full tally of the September 4 vote, go to www.cnt.org.

Key districts that stand to gain from the bill, but whose legislators were either not present or did not vote for the bill in September include, according to alphabetical order:

Patricia Bellock (R - Hinsdale)
Mark Beaubien (R - Barrington Hills)
Robert Biggins (R - Elmhurst)
Linda Chapa LaVia (D- Aurora)
Sandy Cole (R -Grayslake)
Jim Durkin (R - Western Springs)
Renee Kosel (R- New Lenox)
Carolyn Krause (R - Mount Prospect )
Patricia Lindner (R- Aurora )
Mike Fortner (R - West Chicago)

Karen May (D - Highland Park)
Michael McAuliffe (R - Chicago)
Kevin McCarthy (D - Orland Park)
James Meyer (R - Bollingbrook)
Ruth Munson (R-Elgin)
Joanne Osmond (R - Antioch )
Sandra Pihos (R - Glen Ellyn )
Robert Pritchard (R- Sycamore
Jim Sacia (R - Pecatonica)
Ed Sullivan (R - Mundelein)
Michael Tryon (R - Crystal Lake )

What you can do:
§ Call your State Representative TODAY to support SB572, House Amendment 10. To find your State Representative, go to the General Assembly website (www.ilga.gov) or go to http://capwiz.com/aplusillinois/state/main/?state=IL

§ Thank her/him if s/he voted in September for the bill and encourage her/him to vote with the bill on Friday, Nov 2.

Without this bill:
1. Collar counties will not receive $116 million for road enhancements.

2. Pace will cut 46 weekday and 11 weekend routes and ALL Metra feeders, and raise fares by $.25; CTA will cut 36 routes raise fares by at least $.50 and $1 for peak rail services. Go to www.transitchicago.com and www.pacebus.com for full information.

3. Cuts to ADA paratransit services (for seniors and individuals with disabilities) will match those listed above and fares will increase by at least $.50.

4. Additional fare increases and service cuts may occur in January 2008. At which point, it is expected that Metra will raise its fares by 5 or 10% in February 2008.

5. No new funds will be made available for transit systems outside of the Northeast region; and, 18 counties slated to receive transit funds for the first time will not.

6. Job Access Reverse Commute and New Freedom funds in the Northeast region may be jeopardized because CTA and Pace will not have available funds to meet match requirements.

How SB572 HAM 10 affect the Northeast region?
§ No fare increases.
§ For every $100 spent, twenty-five cents will be paid in sales tax in Chicago and fifty cents in the collar county.
§ In Chicago, for every $100,000 spent on real estate, $300 would go to the CTA.
Given that middle and low income individuals are much more likely to use mass transit, they will pay more under fare increases than tax increases. Take a look at the most recent Weekly Reviewhttp://www.ctbaonline.org/PressRoom.htm

Will transit modernize or erode? All corners of the political spectrum unanimously support the bill. (See a list of endorsers:www.chicagometropolis2020.org.) Both the Chicago Tribune and the Sun-Times have repeatedly voiced their support for the bill. Initially, brought to the floor for house vote on September 4, the bill received 61 votes in favor, including five Republicans. Without the full 71 votes needed to override an expected veto from the Governor, the bill was quickly set to postpone consideration. On Friday, November 2, the Illinois House will bring SB572 House Amendment 10 to the floor to determine the future of transit in Illinois.

So what's the hold up? While communities across Illinois will benefit from the bill's funding in the form of expanded resources for transit systems large and small, the governor and House Minority Leader have led the effort to develop a capital bill. The issue of a capital bill did not arise until the transit legislation was brought to the house floor on September 4. No one disagrees with the need for a capital bill for our roads, schools and transit system, particularly given that it has been seven years since our last state capital package. The real question is one of timing. By all accounts, there is currently not any real agreement about what should be in the capital bill and how it should be funded. Let's focus on transit today.

Support transit today. Call your legislator.
For further information, contact Dia Cirillo, policy director-workforce, at dcirillo@ctbaonline.org


Join a rally for mass transit on Monday, November 5th.
Go to www.illinoispirg.com or www.savechicagolandtransit.com

rape *isn't* an inalienable right

Women incensed, disgusted by lack of sensitivity -- chicagotribune.com

i will 'manfully' struggle through my outrage and disgust of this column (which reminds me of the Details mag article that asked if it was okay to 'demand' anal sex):

the questions cheryl lavin asks at the end of her column are so idiotic, it's no wonder our society responds to rape in really inappropriate ways.
when are we going to start shifting our attention away from the behavior of women and actually start holding men accountable for rape? (and for even thinking that buying a woman a drink or being invited into her room means blanket consent?)
is anyone else appalled that a woman who self-identifies as a rape counselor is actually telling victims to shoulder the burden of their own rape? (or maybe this is a part of rape counseling methodology, i don't know. someone clarify for me.)
when is the rhetorical use of the 'duke lacrosse case as example of the perfidy of lying non-raped women' going to die?

unfortunately, i am inarticulate in my upset. grrr.
(and if you read the comments, you will see that Ding got a little...pissed.)

an expression of things desired

have i told all 8 of my readers that my coaching has officially turned into therapy?
(i'm going to assume there are more than 5 of you now, but i won't be as immodest to assume there are as many as 10.)

yes; Coach C- is now Dr. C- and she said, in no uncertain terms, that my intimacy issues needed immediate attention.

'really?' i said.
'Ding, how long has it been since you've spoken with B-?'

(let's stop here. i know i've been keeping my summertime dallying with B- a secret. but things weren't actually that bad and i was actually looking forward to maybe making things a bit more normal and - i just thought that if it turned into something, perhaps it wasn't a good idea to write about it all over the place. but, clearly, things didn't turn out the way i wanted so he's back on the blog.)

i replied, 'um...since labor day?'
'Ding! it's practically november! how are you going to make progress if you won't make the effort!'
'i was really busy! there were some personal things, moving, work, some medical issues...i had to re-prioritize!'
'normally, where does B- fall on your list of priorities?'

'on a list of 10 things, he is about a 6 right now,' i said. then i thought a bit more. 'actually, in all my years of knowing him, he hasn't really moved up past 3.'
'how long have you been with him?'
'on and off, 7 years.' i shrugged and threw up my hands.
'Ding! that's really bad!' she lost her grip on her professional demeanor a little and laughed.
'i know! that's why i'm here! how can i not do this anymore?'

she sighed. 'i think we have to get a little bit more...aggressive. if you're reading and crying over wedding announcements in the times and you're coming here, it's clear you are interested in having a partner, but your inability to foster intimacy is so entrenched, you will never get one. (ouch, i thought.) i think coaching is too passive. one month between appointments is too long. behavioral intervention is going to be necessary.'

'jesus. there's not just a list of things to do that will help me? you know...write some journals, make notes about my bad habits?'

she shook her head. 'we're past that.'

so...this is me in therapy. at least she said i wasn't depressed.

Patricia Miller and Alfred Zollar - New York Times

civic-minded monday

found a fascinating site: AlderTrack

west town is where i live but you can search by your community area (not necessarily n'hood name) to see what issues in your community have appeared on the city council agenda. there are no more excuses for not participating in your community's politics.

another good source? civic footprint. you can search by your address (sorry, it's chicago specific) and not only see who your alderman is, but local reps/senators, county commissioners, police precincts and committeemen. so handy for sending scathing letters of complaint.

and if you're wondering what the hell is going on down in springfield and what you can do to make people listen to you, well, you can go here and talk to some local (gulp) republican women legislators. for some reason, they've formed a small group of suburban legislators who want to hear about issues affecting women. so, take them at their word and tell them at ww.womensvoicesillinois.com.

(they say it's a bipartisan group but only a few republican women have joined. weird.)

WKYN: We Kid You Not
hmm. i have to check this out. but not right now because i'm late for drinks!

BSG: April??? April?? Frak!

so...The Watcher in the Trib this morning, announces that sci-fi channel announced the new (and final) season of Battlestar Galactica won't even frakking air until frakking APRIL!

arrgghh....(gurgle)

hear ye, hear ye

in a turn of events that was totally stunning and made me feel like a groupie who'd spent a night with her idol, i am now a new permanent co-blogger over at Bitch Ph.D.!

squee!

i can now spread my tedium to the outer reaches of the b'sphere.

Conscience of a Values Voter

To pander: to act as go-between or liaison in sexual intrigues; to cater to the lower tastes and desires of others or exploit their weakness; to pimp.

Dear Mr./Ms. Candidate,

Thank you for coming to my church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend. It was a pleasure to host you and hear your views on my views. It's so reassuring to know we're on the same page.

But I must admit that I have been feeling a bit ... oogie about your visit, of late. Some questions have been cropping up with an alarming regularity. I honestly don't know where these questions are coming from - this doubt. It can't be from your speech; your words were fiery, inspirational and resonated so deeply within my own bosom it was like you peered into my heart and wrote my words with your own pen.

I can't help wondering, however, what your visit meant.

What happened there? I mean, I guess your visit and our welcome of you was a signal that we were for you - or, that I am for you. But what is it that I am getting? Do I get everything I want from you? Are you promise-bound to do what I want? Does this mean you, Mr./Ms. Candidate, are my own personal genie?

What will I have to bring you in return? What is this bargain we've made? Or have we even made a bargain?

I hear the media and pundits call your visit 'pandering to the base.' What does that mean? If I may be so bold as to use the language of pandering - am I the john, or are you? Who's the prostitute? Is this you? I would prefer you be the prostitute, but then this makes me your client, and this is what makes me feel ... oogie. I don't know what kind of transaction this is or who benefits.

Back to my fears: if I'm the john, then all I get is a quick fuck and possibly a disease that will make me ooze from an orifice (please excuse my language. The political world is so new to me.) If you're the whore, all you get is a quick bang; if you're the pimp, however, you get all the cash. Is this what happened? Are you the pimp? But if I'm the pimp...hm. You can understand how confusing this all is for me. I think I'm having an identity crisis here - and you prompted it!

Or maybe we all take turns being the pimp and john and whore. Like a giant game of dress-up. Or a political orgy. Or a weird threesome where no one knows who's tupping who.

Of course, those scenarios do nothing to allay my fears that I have participated in something...unseemly. If I really had to ask what Jesus would do, I believe he would refuse to be the whore, john and pimp.

So you see the quandary I'm in.

Anyway, thank you for your time. Enclosed please find a check to your campaign. I gave your autograph to my sister and she's thrilled I had a chance to meet you at our church service/summit/breakfast meeting/conference this weekend.

Perhaps this time, next year, I may have the honor of calling you Mr./Madam President.

Yours,
The Values Voter

my obsession: weddings in the times

Deneta Howland and Bryan Sells - New York Times

if i was premenstrual, i'd be in tears right now.
it has all the things that get me: earnestness, long distance, interracial couple, yearning, deflection, and dogged pursuit.

i'm obssessed with these stories.

some burning questions...

is it horribly wrong - when someone you've hooked up with in the past (and with whom you hoped to continue a casual liaison) appears to have taken advantage of an improved mental state and moved on - to feel sort of put out by it?

was watching the unbearable 'tell me you love me' with Roomie the other night; is it true that married women are really stunned that their husbands look at porn? i mean, really. who is stunned that men look at porn?? for that matter, isn't it understood by now that women also look at porn? (or is this a generational thing?)

speaking of TMYLM, how can i scrub the image of jane alexander, naked and fucking on a chair, off my inner eyeballs?

can we please have movies about neurotic people of color now? i mean, i'm getting sort of bored by all the representations of quirky/conflicted white folks in popular culture now. and i don't think the tyler perry movies count.

i guess what i'm asking is: who's the Wes Anderson for brown people? (great critique of wes anderson's work here.)

why is the #66 chicago bus the most crowded motherfrakker ever? hm? and why don't the folks who ride the #66 understand the Move to the Back rule ?

with a little under one month of unfettered carnal carnivale left to me before The Procedure, will i find a frolic partner in time?

oooh, the biting, the biting!

30 Days of Night is out.
it will be awesome and i must see it.
i don't care if it terrifies the pants off me.

once more, with feeling: bush appoints another weirdo

this time, it's a woman. dr. susan orr used to work for the Family Research Council, a conservative organization known for its anti-birth control stances, and is now going to be in charge of family planning for low-income people.

what does dr. orr think? she thinks contraception isn't a medical necessity because 'fertility isn't a disease.' well, no shit. contraception is just something we women need to have because, otherwise, we'd be pregnant all the fucking time.

i'm truly puzzled at this administration and the folks who don't see what's completely wrong with this picture. birth control is good. it allows a family to control its fertility; it allows a woman to determine when and if she is going to get pregnant; and when access is wide, paired with education about contraception, abortion numbers go down.

but you know what it is: birth control = sex.
it's a marker that sex is in the makin' and unless you're in a proper heterosexual, monogamous marriage then having sex makes you a slut. (and if you're a dude, having sex just makes you a dude.)

so...birth control = sex = slut.

so basically, orr's appointment is just another step in the social conservative's movement to shame/punish women who have sex.

of course, planned parenthood has sent out an alert to oppose orr's appointment.
you know what you have to do.

The Associated Press: Family-Planning Appointment Denounced

post event horniness

geez. i've finished with our Huge Fundraiser and it was so good, we did such a good job and i'm so exhausted all i want to do is have sex.
like, nasty monkey sex.
now.

i've text messaged someone but if he doesn't get to me in time, then i'm totally going home to take a long 'shower.'

or think naughty thoughts while pondering my lesbian boss' suddenly single appeal.
one or the other.

[much later: none of that happened. i went home and read a book in bed. i lead an exciting life.]

Advocacy Alert: Tell the CW No Never Means Yes!

from the ywca metropolitan chicago:

Tell the Media that No Never Means Yes!

In August, when the CW network announced Kevin Federline was going to guest star in a few episodes as a front man of a band called ‘No Means Yes,’ we asked the producers of the popular show One Tree Hill to change the name of the band before the season began. We thought the band name winked at sexual assault – an all too common reality for their target demographic. YWCA USA CEO Lorraine Cole, YWCA associations from Illinois and Greater Los Angeles agreed. The name of the band had to change!

But the CW is silent. Maybe they didn’t hear us. Maybe they don’t take sexual assault seriously.

For the YWCA’s Week Without Violence, send another message to the CW and tell them that No Never Means Yes!

Go to their Advocacy Action Center to send an email.
Spread the word!

[and, yes, i am not exactly a disinterested party here.]

but the flowers are so pretty: taxes and hizzoner

i love the Clout City blog in the Reader. it gives you the inside scoop on the inner workings of our city council and mayor's office and i have the admit the muckraking attitude just makes me giggle.

i note that every time someone says that at least Chicago is better than Detroit or Cleveland, i cringe a little bit. to me, that's code for 'ghetto' which is code for 'town where the black folk run wild.' hm.

some folks need to read 'the bluest eye'

Maghag: Where Are All The Black Models? Let's Start By Asking Anna Wintour - Jezebel

this article by the times, paired with the jezebel post, is sort of interesting. it's something i thought about, too, while i was walking through Around the Coyote this weekend. the entire festival was a feast of images of middle class white angst. how many self portraits of waify, doe-eyed, depressed looking white hipsters was i going to have to endure? or, if i wanted to see some representations of brown-ness, was i going to settle for photographs of hurricane katrina victims and mardi gras? yuck.

more and more, i see artistic representation turning inward; we are only willing to represent what reflects ourselves. i think this is what's happening in fashion - the agents, bookers, designers, editors are not able to tear their gazes away from their mirrors. i don't care about whether models get work (girl, this is why college is a good idea) but i care about the representation of reality - or, if 'reality' isn't quite the word to use, then the representation of experience.

what does it mean when experience is only filtered through a homogenized lens?
when the only images we see are white, i think that's a problem.
when you aren't visibly represented in popular culture you might as well be invisible to everyone's naked eye.

in other words, we are training our eye to be blind to difference.

however, i believe that if this situation is ever to change, then the means of production has to change hands. know what i mean? at every stage of fashion production, the person in charge is white - the designers are white, the agents are white, the publicists are white, the editors are white, the publishers are white, the CEOs of the fashion houses are white, the buyers are white. it's a proverbial parade of whiteness.

until these things change, there's not much hope of seeing more diversity on the runway.

CTA: totally FUBAR

holy crap.

have you seen what the CTA is proposing to cut in November and January if they don't get funding??
say goodbye to the following bus lines:

65 Grand!
50 Damen!
56 Milwaukee!
70 Division!
143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148 - hey, North Siders! how ya gettin' to work??
156 LaSalle! (dude!)

so...if these bus lines go, can you imagine how completely unridable the trains are going to be, heading downtown?

i might have to get a bike, dude.

our new neighbors

Roomie and I went to our first condo association meeting last night. It was an eye-opener.

We’re the first to arrive (slightly mortifying) and the much older-than-I-thought Board Vice President/Husband greets us graciously and we take a seat on the very mod beige sofa in the living room. His Board President/Wife comes downstairs; they’ve both met Roomie before and soon they’re both looking at me a little quizzically.

Roomie says, ‘This is my roommate.’
I smile, ‘Hi. I’m Ding.’
Everyone shakes hands.

The Wife takes a seat on her very mod moss velvet chaise and she’s still staring at me with slightly narrowed eyes. Whatever, lady. I’m just taking in the stunning art work and trying to read the books on the shelf over the fireplace.

Another gray-haired condo person comes in; introductions are made again.

When she looks at me, Roomie and I say, ‘We’re roommates.’
Condo person nods but still looks confused. She sits.

Wife suddenly says to me, ‘How long have you been here?’
I say, ‘As long as Roomie has. We’re roommates.’
Roomie says, ‘Yeah, we’ve been roommates for a few years now.’
The gray-haired condo owner says, ‘See? They’re doing that nowadays.’

Thankfully, other 30-ish condo people arrive, including our across the hall neighbor, who greets us enthusiastically. ‘How’s the construction going?’ he says.
We say it’s almost over, just waiting for the door to the second bedroom and some glass panels; we make a joke about me sleeping al fresco, and the Wife looks even more confused.

She says, ‘So, Ding, do you work?’
What a fucking odd question.
‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I’m in government relations at National Non Profit.’
Other condo people have arrived to hear this last exchange and with an almost unseemly enthusiasm they say, ‘Wow! That’s great! How interesting! What a cool job!’

‘Uh, yeah,’ I say. ‘It’s a great job. I love it.’
Husband says, ‘I love the song.’
Wife says, ‘That’s the other National Non Profit, dear.’
And she’s still looking at me. She seems to be looking at me a lot the entire meeting.

Meanwhile, Roomie is experiencing some passive aggression from the gray-haired condo owner on the first floor who thinks one of our contractors dripped some gunk through her ceiling but has yet to say anything directly to Roomie; she’d rather stage-whisper about it right in front of Roomie to another Board member. As soon as the meeting ends, we hightail it out of there.

Standing in front of our own door, I say, ‘They SO think we’re gay.’
Roomie says, ‘What the fuck was that? Do you work? What the fuck??’
‘Fucking baby boomers,’ I say.

my girly parts: an update

fair warning: look away if you don't want to read about what's happening with my girly parts.

this is my girly part cocktail: daily seasonique with a monthly dose of lupron.

i'm down to the little yellow pills in my Seasonique pack (which cost an unholy $140!! what the fuck is that??) these are the first birth control pills i've taken since i was 18 (i was prescribed for heavy, continuous bleeding) and it's not so bad. but august through september i bled almost every freaking day and i actually just stopped bleeding last week. (though there is currently a faint 'leak' of some girly fluid. what is it? i have no idea. it's just like an overflow of moisture or something. i know. TMI.) in august this bleeding was a strange dark, almost black color then it gradually became more 'blood'-like but the bleeding was extrememly heavy and the clots were unbelievable. i suffered no cramps, no bloating, but now i think i've gained a few pounds. clothes aren't noticeably tighter but my belly is certainly a little pudgier, like i look a little pregnant. granted, i hate exercise but this seems rather extreme, thank you very much.

other side effects: i have excruciating headaches, am sensitive to light and sound, i get really hot at night and there's some joint stiffness that just popped up out of nowhere.

anyway, just thought i'd share what's going on in my pants since the world is dying to know...

Skipping Your Period: Seasonique - The Well-Timed Period

movie tanks? blame a woman!

Warner Bros is crazy.

let's see if this makes sense:
the majority of those with 'greenlight' capabilities in hollywood are men.
the majority of producers are men.
the majority of screenwriters who get their movies made are men.
the majority of directors are men.

but if a whole slew of your movies fail at the box office, blame your female lead.
'cause that's totally logical.

just for fun, let's take a look at warner bros. 2007 sour grapes:

The Bucket List (2007) utter crap. an aging baby boomer movie about dying guys who have a list of stuff they want to do before they die? no one is going to see this movie.
Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) actually, this looks awesome. but come on - how many people in america are really into a goth screen version of a serial killer musical? not big box office.
P.S., I Love You (2007) a sappy movie written by two men about messages a dead husband leaves his wife, played by hilary swank. gag.
I Am Legend (2007) um, i can't wait to see this but only because the source material is fantastic.
Beowulf (2007) computer generated epic poem only die hard english majors remember. whatever.
Fred Claus (2007) crap.
August Rush (2007) orphaned musical prodigy uses his gift to find his parents. kill me.
Return to House on Haunted Hill (2007) crap. sequel to a really really bad remake and the reason why people stop going to movies.
The Brave One (2007) depressing or not depressing enough? hm.
The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007) beautiful yet...boring. snooze.
In the Valley of Elah (2007) political downer.
Michael Clayton (2007) this actually looks good, but a corporate evil downer.
The Invasion (2007) bad, boring remake of a remake. oh, and written/directed by a bunch of guys!
No Reservations (2007) bad, soulless, american remake of a really sweet german film.
thanks for ruining 'Mostly Martha' for me, talentless hacks.
License to Wed (2007) crap. but i think robin williams will work again.
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007) awesome. built in franchise success because of great female-authored source material.
Nancy Drew (2007) nothing will be as good as the books.
Believers (2007) totally crappy religious cult movie.
Ocean's Thirteen (2007) feh. just ... ok. think george clooney is in fear for his career?
Lucky You (2007) craptacular. you could see the craptacularity from the trailers. but, again, i think eric bana will live to make other movies.
The Reaping (2007) crappy biblical plague movie - again, with hilary swank. (hmm...)
TMNT (2007) 80s nostalgia kid movie. again, built in success.
Zodiac (2007/I) good, but long.
Music and Lyrics (2007) craptacular to the nth degree. oh, and written/directed by a
man!
Rest Stop 2 (2007) yeah, this is art.

not really a great year for warner bros. but is that really an actress' fault or should they chalk it up to their own industry's mediocrity and barely concealed contempt for the audience?

it's not over: Harassment in Aurora | RHRealityCheck.org

i almost did something bad today.

a coworker showed me a mailer she got in the post sponsored by the folks at Pro-Life Action League. it was chock full of ridiculous inflammatory misinformation about Planned Parenthood ("they encourage sex before marriage! they think babies are smelly!") and it made me so angry that i did something that was a little nuts:

i looked up the home address of eric scheidler, the communications director for Pro-Life Action League and son of joe scheidler who's the patriarch leading the local charge against the folks at Planned Parenthood.

i copied the address. i thought about posting it here and telling pro-choicers to use it and send the scheidlers a little taste of their own harrassment.

but i had an icky feeling. i felt shame at taking a political fight to the doorstep of a family of 10 (they have 8 kids) to scream at them for hating people like me, for thinking that their grip on righteousness allows them to harrass and violate the privacy of women like me.

why don't the pro-lifers feel that shame?

Real Time: Harassment in Aurora RHRealityCheck.org

(p.s. pro life folk say Planned Parenthood slandered joe scheidler with one of their ads. this interview with eric zorn says otherwise.)

spoiler alert: top chef!

i think dale was robbed.

ok, his lobster dish made chef tom recoil like it was gangrene. but at least he went for it, right??

but now hung can go forward, making his precise, classic, technically superior dishes that lack acid.

The Top Chef Finale: Of Bad Lobster and Tame Cake - Diner’s Journal - Dining & Wine - New York Times Blog#more-306

if only...

Exploring Ways to Shorten the Ascent to a Ph.D. - New York Times

if my life had gone another way, you'd be calling me dr. ding right now.
alas, the call of big city life, drugs, sex and spending derailed my academic career. ah, me!

but if i was a grad student now (and i totally may go back for a different degree, not frakking english) i'd have a coach. did you know there are now dissertation coaches and grad student coaches? my coach/therapist offers these services and i was stunned. perhaps if i'd had a coach back in grad school, i woulda finished those final two chapters!

shrug.

anyway, good luck with making the ph.D less traumatic.

what the military needs: more porn!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

blue cross, you suck.

so i'm having a michael moore moment. my first glitch in the healthcare environment has ocurred and it's making me mad.

here's my story:

there once was a girl who kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding.
one day, her doctor said, 'hm. did you know you have a fibroid?"
so they looked at the fibroid, clinging stubbornly to the side of the girl's uterus and the doctor said, 'hm. that really should come out.'

the girl said, 'ok.'
so they talked about removing the fibroid and set a date to do it.

but then they discovered that the girl had a blood level of 6.8. the doctor was alarmed.
'that's too low! you're dangerously anemic! we can't do this until your iron levels are higher!'
the girl said, 'huh. so that's why i'm short of breath all the time.'

so the doctor gave the girl birth control (to stop the bleeding) and iron (to get rid of the anemia.) and another date was set for surgery.

but it didn't work. the girl kept bleeding and the bleeding got heavier. she ate double the birth control. still she bled, even heavier than before.

alarmed even further, the doctor had a final solution. 'we have to shut everything down. we'll give you one shot of Lupron for free. but you need two. we'll see if your insurance will cover the second shot.'

weeks passed. the lupron seemed to work and the bleeding eventually stopped. (today it stopped.) the girl was happy! but the insurance company said, 'NO! thou shalt not have Lupron because it doesn't meet the medical criteria policy of blue cross blue shielf of illinois!'

panicked, the girl contacts her doctor.
the doctor says, 'that means they think you're not on birth control.'
'but i am! it's all in my medical history!'
'yes it is. they're idiots. don't worry. we'll think of something.'

to be continued...

what a bunch of assholes. even an idiot can trace the line of causality:
heavy bleeding/cramping leads to diagnosis of fibroid
fibroid diagnosis leads to planned surgical procedure to remove it
surgical procedure pre-op testing leads to diagnosis of anemia
anemia diagnosis leads to prescription of birth control/iron pills to stop bleeding and boost iron
birth control fails to stop bleeding
failure of birth control leads to prespription of Lupron.

assholes.

are we outraged, yet?

Report Says Firm Sought to Cover Up Iraq Shootings - New York Times

bow to thee, sharon jones

She’s Not Anybody’s Backup Act - New York Times

true story:
new year's eve 2006, park west, chicago.

i'd bought two tickets to see sharon jones at the park west and since B- was in a snit (which can be read in the archives), i called up my friend E - in milwaukee. he was ecstatic, packed some vintage soul threads, and got on a bus to chicago. i met him at the station and we headed to lincoln park.

we're sort of hungry and there's plenty of time before the show so we duck into the tiny sushi restaurant next door to the park west and who do we find? sharon jones and the dap kings. and who does E- know? sharon jones and the dap kings.

they put on a great show and sharon jones kicks ass. the band is tight. (and are they hot? in that soul/funk/vintage/'we don't care about you hipsters' way, yes.)

i was on my feet all night and danced until they bled. afterward, they all signed an LP for me and we walked home in the frigid wind.