Monday, March 29, 2010

Gchat Snippet of the Day

A:  getting a tattoo 
me:  oh. what is it? 
A: it's a white wolf with some other shit going on 
me:  2 more wolves and a moon? 


In case you are in meme darkness, click here or play this:
Know Your Meme: 3 Wolf Moon from Rocketboom on Vimeo.

Friday, March 26, 2010

The Price of Female

So my roommate is accidentally sexist. (Yes, I have told him this. His retort: “Could be”.) Two nights ago he called women’s basketball a joke and a few weeks ago, in the midst of women’s Olympic hockey, he said women sports are  not full contact because our bodies are weaker than men’s.

Hi, if you tried to have a child, you would likely die from the pain. And your body can’t do or endure half the things mine can. Can you bleed for five days and not die? I DIDN'T THINK SO.

Anyway, last night he finally realized that it’s much more expensive to be female than male. Um…yes. I almost wanted to hug him. Almost. Maybe he’s progressing. Will he next admit that women are a minority and are not treated equally in the United States? (I did get him to admit that female genital mutilation is a problem. Sigh.) Probably not...and we're currently ranking 17th in gender equality. 17th!

As women, we have so many more costs to living and just in case you were previously unaware (see above), I'll give you a few examples:
  •  Tampons’n’at: Oh, sorry, I mean “feminine hygiene products” – trust me, this is not the area to go cheap.
  • Gutchies: Trust me, we can’t buy the ones in the packs at k-mart like guys can and get away with it. So it’s at least $5 a pair ($12+ for the sexy, fancy ones), unless you are are feeling cheap and Target is an almost manageable $3, but still, men get away with underwear with holes in the asses and broken elastic; if a girl does that, he takes his holey-assed undies out the door. Plus, we just don’t do that…most of the time.
  • Bathing Suits: Women’s suits are overpriced, especially if you can’t fit into the ones you can buy at Target that I swear would only fit a mid-pubescent teen. (Exactly what portion of my breast would you like me to put that over?!). Let’s do a quick comparison: Men’s: $30, and even cheaper at Marshall’s. Oh, medium? Done! And Women’s: $80+, which not only has to deal with the size of the bottom, but the size, molding, etc. of the top. And it will likely never fit right and she'll have to buy it online anyway if she's over a C cup. Awesome...and you have to buy them separate if you buy online. Double awesome!
  • Birth Control: Now if this doesn’t show you the inequality in America, I don’t know what will. Many girls use the pill to alleviate cramps, some use it to clear up their skin and a lot use it for the intended purpose. But why, if it can be used for medical (debilitating cramps) and combating pregnancy (hi, where’s my tax money going?) is this not covered by insurance. Insurance covers Viagra - so we have more men who can get women pregnant, but not birth control - to help prevent unwanted pregnancies. What is it, $30, $60, $90 a month, $50 for Plan B...a few hundred  for an IUD? The government should pay us for being responsible. If birth control for women, which has been around for decades, isn’t covered, than why is the birth un-control for men, which has been around since, what? the 90’s,  covered? How’s that for sexual inequality?!
  • Annual Gynecological Visits: Men don’t have to get an annual anything until they need their prostates checked over what? 40? Women have to start at 17 now. And earlier if they’re sexually active (because men can pass all kinds of STDs that essentially do nothing to them on to all their partners unknowingly and they don’t have an annual appointment to keep to know. Awesome squared.)
Additionally, women require more shoes and many dresses as opposed to one suit. Our shoes and our clothes are made to a lesser quality, requiring us to buy them more often. And while men can get away with the same look for many events, women are expected to show up in certain form. Which, costs money. Our hair cuts are more: $15 vs. $60, conservatively. Our fucking shampoo is more! We have hair product…and more hair to use both it and the shampoo. We have jewelry. And the expectations!...whatever they are, likely cost money.
    Am I bitching? Maybe just a little. With all these extra costs, you think women would make more money. I mean, we have to MAKE LIFE, for crying out loud! But no, we are still paid 25% less than men for the same position

    So, to all the men - and my roommate, who eloquently stated that men only buy drinks for girls at bars in the hope of taking them home - perhaps you should rethink your reasoning for buying a girl a drink or dinner. Opening a door is nice and all, but seriously, when it all comes down to it – half of what we spend money on is for you (I mean, we could wear the holey undies) and we still make less. And we only got to vote in this last century. And did I mention we MAKE LIFE?!

    No really, guys, you can pick up a check. Seriously. It's okay. And with good reason. It’s expensive to be female. And let’s not make it weird. Like, this whole awkward, who’s-gonna-pay-for-dinner conversation didn’t exist 50 years ago. Just because we’re allowed an education and careers doesn’t mean the world is equal, especially financially.  I mean, I find it hard to let someone pay for me - I’m independent and stubborn - but I’m willing to learn!

    I’m a feminist and I’m all for it. Whoever decided splitting a check equals equality between the sexes is a moron. (Good job, men.)  Go ahead, you pick up the check … I need a new bathing suit.

    ...I'm moving to Sweden.

    Friday, March 12, 2010

    Gchat Snippet of the Day

    Me: My heart does rampage.
    J: [sic] like Tokyo before Godzilla.

    Followed later by his finely tuned metaphor:
    J: Your heart is big like Tokyo before Godzilla.

    Yes...yes it is, Dear Gemini.

    Thursday, March 4, 2010

    Compulsive Lateness

    I was late being born.

    My mother had to be induced because I was two weeks late. She would have had me on a Friday, but she had a headache…so she waited till Monday. Perhaps it's the reverse effects of Pitocin that makes induced babies late from then on. Maybe it’s genetic: My biological parents are both late people, which made switching kids for visitation weekends interesting - I think they eventually tried to out-late each other...we spent a lot of time sitting in cars. Perhaps it’s a Libra thing – I’ve read that before. Or maybe it’s a mental disorder. But being perpetually late is not a choice.

    For years I’ve been aware of my tardiness. For years it has gotten me into some trouble. I almost lost my job at Bob Evans. (When you work at Big Bob’s you have to clock into the system no more than 3 minutes after shift start or a manager has to over-ride you. If you are tardy more than 5 times, you are canned. I started to run in without my shoes on, and then I got yelled at for that.) I know, right, I mean, Bob Evans - that’s huge! In high school I was always late. Being late for homeroom meant detention, but I devised a way to get out of that: When running late I would stop at McDonald's and grab a coffee and cinnamon bun for the attendance guy on my way to school. Never had detention again. In college I was always late to class, I had to shmooze my way into it being okay. And in my job, with our flex hours, which is lucky - but that just means show up at the latter part of flexing and work late into the evening.

    Yes, I find it personally frustrating that I am chronically tardy. I don’t like to rush around. I don’t like the anxiety that creates. I know I only leave myself just enough time to get where I'm going, but I also don’t know how to fix it. If I get up earlier, I’m just as tardy. If I start to try to get ready earlier, I lose something and have to take time to find it. And in the off chance I’m early, whoever I’m going to see is late…I swear, happens every time. And then it seems like a waste of time.

    In seeking a foundation for my frustration for this lack of understanding of, what I refer to as, Compulsive Lateness, I found a few links to information on what they call “chronic lateness”. Very few. Why is this something that is never talked about? The few threads I found are overrun with comments and the one book on chronic lateness is sold out on Amazon.

    Wait. What? Totally obscure book? Yes, sold out. I’m sensing an untapped market here. Someone call Ron Popeil!

    Alcoholism? An acceptable disease.
    OCD? Oh man, that must suck; help me understand your rituals. Let’s explore your anxiety. 
    Drug addict? Aw. Sad for you – what trauma did you have in your life.
    Depression? A growing epidemic: Everyone swallow meds!
    Anxiety? Oh, you don’t feel so good (yea, me neither). Panic attack!
    ADD? Loud kids are no longer punished, but heavily medicated. And as adults, ADD is sometimes laughed at – but my entire generation is plagued. Let’s commiserate.

    I have the last two of these. To what degree? I don’t know. I’m in the thought of: Our ancestors were fine, I’ll find a way to deal and P.S. I’m broke and have bad insurance. In the few links (and here and here) I did find on chronic lateness, it is said to be linked to both anxiety (Hi there, My Head) and ADD (Hello again)…like I needed those two correlations to help prove my compulsion.

    In reading those articles I found myself going “yes”, “yes”…”uh-oh” and “yes”. Obviously it’s some type of psychological disorder; I just want to know why it’s not discussed or studied (beyond a college documentary) or understood. And why there's no help. It’s so wide-spread the book is sold out and yet instead of the responses you get with the ailments listed above, you just get anger, frustration and misunderstanding. I DON’T LIKE IT EITHER. And yes, I would please like some help. Anyone, anyone? No? Okay, keep judging me, and, while you’re at it, pop some more pills for your restless leg syndrome (there's a fucking foundation!) and chronic dry eye.

    I think I'm missing out on a huge business opportunity here...

    Meanwhile, I'm going keep trying to fix it on my own...but I swear the world is 10 minutes ahead.

    Monday, March 1, 2010

    Not Again

    And then she wonders when it's just enough.

    On Saturday I went on a Limo Scavenger Hunt around the District with 9 friends. It was mildly frustrating to try to organize people that were just not-paying-attention-drunk, but other than that it was quite enchanting. And a bit of a riot. I'd love to show you some photos, but, alas, my camera is gone. Again.

    I had vodka, but really, not much. I paced myself and had a lunch because, with the festivities starting at 2:30, and an event such as this, I wanted to make sure I could remember ... and last. I did. Then I got upset because, like usual, I felt as though I wasn't being treated in a situation the same way I would treat other people. (This is how I'm often hurt. And upset.) Then someone screamed out calling me a bitch...and Libra temper storm. (There is so a zodiac-tical blog coming this way.) Anyway, lets talk through that one, then we went to the bar. Where I still had my camera.

    I had some really fantastic photos on there. Madam's Organ, My Brother's Place, Blackfinn, photos in the limo, etc. etc. I'm really sad about losing them. I"m happy I have my memories, but...ya. At this point, I'd rather have the camera back. At the bar my camera was there as they tallied up our points. Then I had a drink. Someone bought me a shot. A SHOT. No, girl, what did I tell myself about that? But after being upset by my friend(s), I needed a drink. Or I was just drunk and forgot my no shots rule. Then I really started to time travel.  I suppose everyone left the bar; I left with my bookbag and camera and went to a house party somewhere in the District that my friend was at. Chinatown...maybe?

    I saw a guy there I had randomly met last year when he was handing out Dr. Pepper samples by Union Station. Have I mentioned my life is a series of very random events? Anyway, after my sunglasses broke and a series of other random things, I left the party with the Dr. Pepper kid and his friend: We went to get pitas in what I believe was Georgetown. My camera was there. The pita was delicious, but after not eating for 12 hours, I think it just made me hungrier. We left. I bitched about my broken sunglasses the whole ride home (who knows why I still had them.) This probably distracted me from my lack of a camera (but seriously, why would I have not put it in my pocket after taking a photo at the pita place?) I think he dropped off his friend at home. He took me home. My camera is not there when I go to find it. (Dr. Pepper kid said it wasn't in his car, is it wrong I want to search it myself for peace of mind? If you want something done right...) I just don't understand. Where could it have gone? I had it all day and I lose it 20 minutes before getting home? I just don't understand.


    All those photos... :(

    This is like the 4th camera in 6 months that was lost/stolen/broke. Why is my camera karma so bad?! Perhaps I should find the shittest one I can find, then no one will want to take it (which is all I can assume that happened). Or just give up entirely.

    Have I sighed yet? Can I do it again? ::sigh::