After my blog post the other day on the young lady who distressed me so, and reading of another blog elsewhere, I got to thinking about labels and how we define ourselves. The thing to note about the previous blog post, importantly I believe, is that I have no issue with someone else’s lifestyle choice - if it is what makes them happy and what works for them. What I do have issue with is the assumption that, in this particular case, all women, given their druthers, would make that same choice. That somehow I have missed the mark by not seeing the relevancy of wishing to define myself by another’s measure of my inherent worth.

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This past Saturday night, Tetris and I went out to a local club to watch a comedy show and were later met by a friend and his date for a night of drinking and goofing off. Sounds good, yes?

We moved from the dance club section to the allegedly “quieter” piano bar section of the club. After locating an area that was less crowded, but missing seats, the guys wandered up to the bar to get drinks and possibly score some chairs.

As we are waiting, I’m attempting to make small talk with our friend’s date, but it’s not going very well. At one point, she turns to me and says, “We need to move.” Curious, I stupidly ask why. “The guys said so, men talk, I listen.”

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Just so you are all aware, we women are completely incapable of making any decisions on our own without male guidance. So sayeth Mary Grabar over at Townhall.

After watching The View and following the inane statements made on the program, I’ve come to the conclusion that it really is true what Aristotle, Saint Paul, and John Milton said: Women, without male guidance, are illogical, frivolous, and incapable of making any decisions beyond what to make for dinner.

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This was the danger of giving women the vote. The danger to conservatives (and the survival of this country) is the voting bloc of single women, i.e., those who lack the guidance of a man in the form of a husband or intellectual mentor.

She then goes on to blame it on the husbands of what she assumes to be the audience of said show.

Probably many of the women watching the View are stay-at-home moms. But I question what kind of men they have for husbands, or “partners”; they’re probably English professors who have “Peace is Patriotic” bumper stickers on their Volvos. They’re probably the ones who work under department heads who have imposed the popular pedagogical policy of the “maternal presence” in the classroom. These male teachers try to be “facilitators” and nurture spoiled college students who are text-messaging insults about them as they drone on about the “other” and feelings. They write conference papers agreeing with their colleagues that the whole canon of dead white male authors should be eliminated to make way for women writers who eschew linear (read logical) and therefore patriarcha thought. They probably sit down to pee.

Oh! I get it now, women who have opinions that don’t agree with the bullshit as spelled out by the patriarchy and its blind followers must be married to, or as Mary so delicately puts it, “partnered” with, men who don’t grunt and scratch in public and may have, heaven forbid, “feelings.”

And, they sit down to pee.

*blink*

Oh, just so you know, the author isn’t a typical woman.

No I’m not a typical woman. I read philosophy. I hate to shop. I don’t care what I’m wearing. Nothing in my house is coordinated.

Well, thanks for clearing that up. It is entirely relevant to your opinion as to why single women shouldn’t have the right to vote.

I don’t know, maybe stop watching The View? It’s crap. Ask your husband if you can watch something more intellectually stimulating. I’m sure he’ll give you permission.

While sitting on the back patio Friday night a conversation came up regarding feminism. It was a brief conversation, but it occurred to me that even in 2006 there are still so many misconceptions on what feminism is, and what it is not.

I can’t speak on behalf of the entire movement, and I most certainly can’t speak on behalf of the 3rd wave (what with me being just a wee bit too old to be one of those fierce little bitches, Goddess bless ‘em), but I can speak for myself.

Might I suggest stopping here, taking a bathroom break, getting coffee, and then coming back to read? Get comfy, this is going to be a long one.

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Part 1: The Second Coming of the Hysterical Woman

I learned something new this week. When being shuffled out of the window office that you didn’t really earn because you’ve only been employed by the company for 2.5 seconds and most everyone with seniority over you resents, use tears and loud dramatic sniffling to ensure you get to stay in that coveted spot.

Don’t employ reason. Don’t act rationally. Certainly, don’t accept the fact that office shuffling happens a lot at your company. Above all, don’t be graceful and pack your box and just move. No. What you should do is cry. Loudly. Dramatically. To your immediate supervisor. To your immediate supervisor’s boss. To anyone who will listen to you - which is to say the entire company because you are so loud you can be heard over incoming jets. Turn red, wail, get the water works really going.

On behalf of all professional women everywhere, I’d like to thank you for your lack of pride and rational thinking. Thank you for reminding the male staff that women are irrational and prone to hysterics. Bitch!

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From WaPo: The Food and Drug Administration approved an application today making the long-debated emergency contraceptive Plan B, commonly known as the “morning-after pill”, available without a prescription to women 18 and older.

About damn time. Thank you for recognizing we know what’s best for ourselves. Pharmacists nationwide have begun refusing to fill prescriptions for birth control, citing religious reasons. Of course, these same pharmacists probably don’t have a problem filling a Viagra prescription. Because, you know, 50 year old men getting it on is God’s will. Preventing pregnancy is not. Of course, neither is shutting the fuck up and paying your taxes to support the babies that you wouldn’t allow someone to prevent, but I digress.

This is a serious victory for women, even if it’s a limited one. Plan B is only available OTC to women 18 and over. Younger women will require a prescription still.

One day, in my dream world, future generations will look back and wonder what all the fuss was about. But for now, expect to see protests at your local pharmacy from the freaks who think all women should be barefoot and pregnant. Hrmmm, wonder if they read Forbes.

From the “I Should Stop Looking at the News” department:

According to ESPN.com, Reuben Droughns of the Cleveland Browns is very apologetic. *cough*

Droughns is accused of throwing his wife, Kellie, to the ground and onto a bed before throwing her outside and locking the door during a May 12 altercation at their suburban Denver home.

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Droughns, who rushed for 1,232 yards last season, apologized in June for “bringing this negative attention to the team once again.”

Nice to know he cares.

In my last post, one of the things I mentioned being disgusted with was the judge in the Chicago area video rape case…

In another highly publicized video rape case, there is finally a little justice. The infamous OC Three received six years. Not quite what I would have given them.

I would ask you to please read the victim’s statement. Read it to yourself, read it quietly, and ask yourself, “What if this was my daughter?” And then read it again. Can you tell me that six years is enough? If you aren’t moved, if you aren’t angry, then I suspect you are either dead, dying, or, as they say down south, in need of a killin’.

As the saying goes, if you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.

Let me just put the disclaimer in here now. If you are a co-worker, this is your opportunity to click out and go read something nice and warm and fluffy. If you choose to stay, don’t stare at me funny tomorrow.

I’m still up to my neck in alligators at work, hence my lack of posting here, or elsewhere for that matter. But I’m supposed to blog today, because it’s Blog Against Sexism Day. And I can’t.

I’m sorry, I haven’t the words. I stare at the world I live in and I want to shake people until their eyes fall out. I want to scream from the rooftops that we are killing our daughters, that we are stripping them of their right to be human. Will it do any good?

Blog Against Sexism. What in the hell does that mean anyway? Will we all write about how outraged we are that South Dakota sucks monkey balls? How shocked we are that the Italian government has lost their collective minds? How disgusted we are that a judge tried to force a young woman to watch a video of her own rape and then rejoice because he changed his mind? How dismayed we are that one of those rapists was acquitted?

And on and on and on…

Does it do any good? If someone, somewhere, will tell me that all of this collective rage and anger will accomplish something, count me in. Otherwise, color me just one more outraged woman living in a world I can barely tolerate. I’m too tired to be this angry.

Stop the world, this uterus wants to get off.

On the 33rd anniversery of Roe V. Wade, G.W. Bush proclaimed the day as National Sanctity of Human Life Day. The question isn’t whether or not human life is sacred or holy, but whose life is sacred or holy.

At last count, over 2200 US citizens have died in Iraq. This does not even begin to address the Iraqi victims. The actual number is unknown, and often in dispute, but even Dear Leader states it is in the tens of thousands.

In New Orleans, people are still awaiting the much promised FEMA trailers. The death toll is now over 1,300.

According to the National Poverty Center, over 13 million children lived in poverty in 2004. 13,000,000 sacred, holy lives. Living in poverty. Meantime, state goverments cut welfare and the federal government pushes for permanent tax cuts.

Since 1976, the United States has excecuted over 1000 human beings. Oddly enough, it would seem that the biggest supporter of the death penalty is often “pro-life.” Interesting, yes?

So back to the original question… whose life is sacred? Whose life is holy?