What do Lady Gaga and the Hunger Games have in Common?

What do Lady Gaga and the Hunger Games star Jennifer Lawrence have in common? Good question. They’ve both been in the news, not for what they do, but for how much they weigh. Oh unknowable universe, what will you come up with next?Lady Gaga gains weight

In case you haven’t heard, and this news made headlines by the way, Lady Gaga has gained weight. Yes, that news made headlines.
She’s gained about thirty pounds, and she has no intention of losing the weight. [Fuck yeah.] She’s going to dress the same and do all the crazy weird meat-related things she’s always done, but just going to do it with a different figure. And, depressingly unsurprising, she has been criticized for gaining a few extra pounds, but in the way of Lady Gaga, she doesn’t give a shit. Her words: “I don’t feel bad about it.”

And she shouldn’t.

In case you didn’t know, Lady Gaga was once a child. A very voluptuous Italian child. She used to make herself throw up because she thought she was ugly because she wasn’t breath-thin. Now, I think she intentionally gained weight (at least in part. I read in an interview that she talked to her
 image consultant or some other big wig about discussing her look change) to give girls a role model to look up to that wasn’t as thin as the legs of a giraffe [not that Lady Gaga is necessarily the best role model for young girls, but inevitably she is so let’s look on the bright side]. Which is awesome. How many stars out there diet and exercise and diet and exercise to look thin and beautiful? A whole damn lot. Thank god someone is taking a stand. It’s a damn brave thing to do, because people are going to be spitting fire. Actually, they are already.

On a similar note, Jennifer Lawrence is refusing to diet for her roll of Katniss. Some critics have said that she should be a lot skinnier if she’s supposed to be a starving girl. This follows that standard in Hollywood that people need to suffer and change their appearance for a roll. Like Natalie Portman, who was praised for dropping 20 or so pounds for her movie The Black Swan; or Danny Devito who gained 60 lbs for a roll. Or Rene Zellweger who had to gain weight for Bridget Jones Diary, and then had to loose it for other roles.

Lawrence said that she was very aware of how she looked for Katniss, and she was focusing on being fit and healthy rather than skinny Jennifer Lawrenceand malnourished. I’ve been on a few online forums looking at this stuff, and what I keep running into is that people think she’s crazy beautiful, which she is. But I kept finding comments somewhere along the lines of “She’s really hot, so it’s okay she’s not super skinny” over and over again, and it pissed me off. There are a whole lot of assumptions to be made based on that one comment. It’s okay not to be skinny if you’re beautiful; or she’s beautiful despite the fact she’s not underweight; or maybe if she hadn’t been crazy beautiful, their comment would change to Yeah, she should have been skinnier if she was a starving girl.

(By the way, Katniss was not a starving girl, despite living in a starving town. In the books, Katniss was a serious hunter. Her family ate better than most of the families in District 7 because she was always bringing home food for them. She wasn’t starving, she shouldn’t be thin, people don’t know what they’re talking about. How in the world could she have won The Hunger Games if she was thin, frail, and weak?)

But both these stories about Lady Gaga and Jennifer Lawrence… are they really news worthy? Apparently so, because they are. Because people search these kind of things out and read about it. Why does this matter so much? I think it’s sad that there are news articles about these women’s weight. Choosing not to diet is newsworthy. Gaining a little weight makes headlines. Is this or is this not kind of fucked up? I’m not talking about journalists and news sites doing a really bang up job of bringing the public important news; it’s this standard of beauty, this pressure on women, to be beautiful and thin in the media. I always hear about the pressure the media puts on women… it’s right here! We’re still doing it.

We hear about Lady Gaga gaining weight, and not about some one like let’s say Adele, because Lady Gaga is a sex symbol, and her gaining this weight is contrary to the popular public belief of what beauty and sex is.

We hear about Jennifer refusing to diet because she’s a famous woman and famous women have a long line of history of being thin and
gorgeous; of being anorexic and bulimic; of popping pills and getting plastic surgery done to be plump and symmetrical; of being the most beautiful people on earth. And hearing a celebrity is on a diet is not something that the public shakes their head at and says “She’s already beautiful. She should just love herself for who she is.” No, we instead go “Yeah, good for her, losing some weight,” or “What diet did she use? I want to try it too.”

These famous people, the people flooding the media, are invariably and unfortunately the people that we as a whole try to model ourselves against (probably more so children and teens than anyone else). The more people we have coming out and not only saying love yourself for who you are, but actually doing that, the better off we’ll be I think. That message will start to seep into the younger generations. They’ll take it seriously because a celebrity said it instead of their moms.

Hm, I wonder if I’ve gotten a smidgen off point here? Oh well. Let’s bring it back. Anyone who thinks it is their business to tell these women how they should and should not look can go fuck themselves. There, that seemed to wrap it up nicely.

Is Pink Really a Girl Color?

I Google Imaged “pink” just to see what I’d get. The first picture?


I can’t say I’m disappointed. I am a huge fan of P!nk, but that wasn’t quite what I was going for.

So I switched over to just regular Google. The first two links were for Victoria Secret something-or-other, and then P!nk, the singer.

Then I Googled “color pink” and these are my results:
 
 

I was thinking about this because as I sat on my bed I noticed that there is a lot of pink on it. Pink bedspread complete with pictures of sparkling pink diamonds, a pink Hello Kitty sheet, and then a pink blanket on top. (Yes, I’m in college. The sheet and bedspread are from my little sister. Her bed was roughly the size of my dorm bed so we used these sheets, and my Grandma made the blanket.) I looked at it and thought to myself, What a girly bed. If a random person was to walk into my room, without knowing who lived there, the only reason they would think a girl lived there was from the pink bed. Everything else is Nightmare Before Christmas, Firefly, books, and pirates (Why hello, Johnny Depp. You’re looking quite well this evening). Well, maybe they could tell by how many bottles of shampoo I have. man alive, I have a few.

Now, why is pink a girl color? It just is, right? It’s only natural to see pink and think: girl! Why is that? Oh, right. I remember. It’s because when we’re born, girls are born in pink and boys are born in blue. No… wait. We wrap girls and pink, and boys in blue. Then maybe it’s because all girls like to play with pink toys, and all boys like to play with blue toys! No, no, that’s not right either. We make girl toys pink and boy toys blue. (And then we separate the toys into princess and superhero.)

Then how come pink? Well, I did a little bit of research trying to figure this out. Apparently, it’s been argued that way back in ancient times, when humans were hunters and gatherers, women were attracted to the red berries, and that sort of reddish tone became associated with women. Whereas men were associated with blue because they were always watching the sky for the weather; good weather, good hunt, or something like that. It’s also been suggested that women prefer pink because of the red tones, which women can see better because our sex chromosomes apparently affects our eyesight.

None of this is true. I already know why. It’s the market. Pink isn’t natural to girls just as blue isn’t natural to boys. We’ve just created it that way, and then we replicate it , over and over again buying pink dresses and hats for our little girls, because it seems “natural” to us. In fact, it’s not. In the early twentieth century, boys wore pink and red while girls were dressed in blue. (They thought that since pink was the stronger color, it was more suited for boys. And blue was a more delicate color, meant for girls.) And now for some reason they’ve switched.

Which is why I think it’s so hilarious when I get these “real men wear pink” things. As if a color could somehow negate your testosterone. This Real Men Wear Pink is a struggle not for manhood, not even from gender roles, but basically from the media and the market. The market has decided that pink is for girls, and we abide by this idea. We’re fighting ourselves. Ourselves, I say!

The market–Walmart, Target, Toys R Us, Kohls–has a sort of control over our lives. It affects us. We can see it in the clothes we wear, in the goods we buy, in the things we use. Remember back at the beginning when I mentioned all my shampoo? Why is that a girl thing? Because women are expected to have nice hair. Shiny hair. Bouncy hair. It’s supposed to smell good and look great, and when we tie it in knots it should hold strong. How many shampoo or conditioner commercials do we see a day? How many of those hair commercials are for women? Most of them. I’ve seen a few for men, but only a few.

What needs to change is not the markets, however. Because the markets are dependent upon something: us. For the markets to change, our attitude has to change. Pink was for boys, so the market sold pink boy shirts. Then, pink was for girls, so the market changed. Now I’m seeing more and more guys wear pink, and the stores are selling more pink boy shirts once more. Gone are the days when pink was only, just for, and specifically for girls. To change the world, we much only change ourselves, and the world will follow.

Maine and Maryland Come Out!

More cool-ass news, guys! Maine and Maryland have come out! By popular vote, no less. The public majority of both states recently (like, three days ago) voted to have Marriage Equality.

Dude, that’s fucking cool.

Tolerance and Acceptance strikes again!

I’ll have to add Maine and Maryland to my Marriage Equality States song (stolen from Jesse Tyler Ferguson’s Tie the Knot organization. Don’t know about it? Like bow ties? Click herehttp://www.tietheknot.org/) Connecticut, Iowa, Massachusetts  New Hampshire, New York, Vermont… Washington D.C., and now Maine and Maryland. Now, just imagine that, but in song.

A Marriage Equality Act is also expected to pass in Washington, too. And an anti- same sex marriage proposal in Minnesota is expected to fail. The gays are taking America by storm! Soon we’ll all be fabulous, and there ain’t nothing wrong with that.

Planned Papahood = Abortion-Tire care-Starbucks Shops Galore

This is funny, outrageous, and sexist; I know. But I started to wonder, is it also true?

There are a few ways to look at this question (if you overthink it). Just in case you have that same pesky problem I have with thinking, let me clarify the perimeters of this discussion:

When men become pregnant, we’re not talking about guys’ hormones/biology/body changing and essentially becoming women.

We’re not talking about all of human history being reversed and are now and have always been a matriarchal society instead of patriarchal. The gender roles are not swapped.

This is not a sudden switch, like suddenly guys are waking up with giant bellies and swollen feet.

Guys stay guys. History stays the same as it’s always been (men in power). The only thing that has changed is the fact that guys carry the babies. Yes, magically. No, more like a seahorse. Let’s say a seahorse. Men raise the fetus in his stomach, and then also gives birth.

The essential core to the picture shown above is this: Is the abortion argument really about the fetus?

Some other lesser questions hiding in the background are: If a woman was president, would she immediately legalize abortion? Is this
just another way for men to oppress women? Are men (and by men, I mean the majority of men in Congress/in power today) only seeing  one side of this argument: their side? Would men have so many abortion clinics in this alternative universe because it’s okay for men to have sex, but not for women? [Disclaimer: I know not all women are pro-choice, and I know not all men are pro-life. But seeing as the people making the Federal decisions regarding a “woman issue” are in Congress, and Congress is filled with primarily men….]

Back to the main question. Is abortion really about the baby? Perhaps. Perhaps not. The picture is outright saying it’s not. Abortion wouldn’t even be a problem if men were the ones having babies. It’s about power. Which, I kind of agree with. Abortion, by all means, is not a simple question. There is no simple answer, and saying there is a simple and concrete answer ignores the basic reality of the question. A baby is not the only one affected (if you believe a fetus is in fact a baby) in the decision. I have to argue that the mother is the one affected most of all. Whether or not that fetus lives or not, it’s not conscious enough to really know what life is. The mother, on the other hand, is painfully aware. And whether or not that mother goes through with the pregnancy or with the abortion, she has to carry that weight, that decision, probably for the rest of her life. Something growing inside of you, or the lack there of, is not something you can forget easily. What ever decision you chose sticks to you like a poltergeist, and stays there.

And no matter how compassionate, or caring, or loving, or understanding, or open-minded a man is, I’m not sure there’s any way for him to fully comprehend the full weight of a life inside of your uterus. No matter how many times you explain to him what it was like, what you were feeling, or what you thought, he’ll never know for himself. Because he can’t know. How could he know? Unfortunately, he’s not a woman.

There’s something here that no one can fully explain. A mysterious, ambiguous third factor lies in this question. A factor that no science, no numbers, no amount of extrapolation and deduction and conclusion-drawing can make clear. Abortion is steaming with this factor. Its why it’s such a hard question, pro-life/pro-choice. And it’s also why I kind of agree with the first picture. I do believe that part of the abortion arguments is actually about the fetus, the human life involved, but that’s not all of it. This is never going to be a fair fight as long as men exclusively are making the reproductive choices. Men should not be making these choices for women. If men understood the whole gravity of it, and the bits and bearings, I do believe that the decisions being made would be different. Or at least, we might be discussing it a little differently.

Star Wars: Episode VII. Meesa hopes we’re not all Screwed!

So, if you’re a nerd/geek like me, or you don’t live under a CGI’d rock, you’ve probably heard that there’s going to be another Star Wars movie. Episode VII. And if you haven’t heard, for shame. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?

Now, I read an article entitled something along the lines of: New Star Wars Movie, Sci-Fi Fans Everywhere Rejoice!

And perhaps the sci-fi fans are rejoicing. Perhaps they are all shaking in their boots with excitement for the new CGI effects and lightsaber battle scenes. They are probably jumping up and down, or fist-pumping the air, delighted to see what new magic Disney comes out with next galaxy far, far away.

I, on the other hand, being a Star Wars fan, am in fear.

Lucas already destroying his own legacy, my own childhood, Vader’s masculinity, and the mythology of that Universe, as one last kick
in the nads to his fandom, Lucas sold the rights to Disney. My only hope is that Lucas is really retiring and doesn’t have the authority to conjure up another Jar Jar Binks.

From what I understand, it’s not going to be shoot off movies, like they did in the Avengers, focusing on separate story lines. No, it’s going to be a whole new movie trilogy, a whole new story line, with whole new characters, on whole new planets, 200 years into a whole new future, on and on and on (which is the safest way for Disney to relaunch a series and make many moolahs ).

And sadly, Joss Whedon will not be available to direct.

So, here I must only tremble with fingers and toes crossed that Disney actually knows what it’s doing. (Or at least, knows what it’s doing more than Lucas did before he felt the need to add random rocks to the movie. Because what does that add? Honestly, Lucas. Honestly.) But behind all this sweaty-palmed trepidation is… well, more trepidation. But behind that lives a tiny part of my soul that wants to wait in line at midnight to see what new world awaits. Evidently, the movies were written out to be a nine-part series (and naturally the way to make those movies is 4,5,6,1,2,3,7,8,9), and these last ones are pretty damn good. And they were written back in the 80’s, so that’s good news. Things are looking up already.

Aim for the throat, Mickey! For the throat!

Ehem..

The best we can hope for is that, even if these movies bomb, like dark-hole-of-insanity, tricked-into-murdering-our-fathers, facing-the-Emperor-and-dropped-my-lightsaber sucks, we still have the old ones to replay until the residue of Disney Star Wars washes away into a bad memory we can block out of our minds and then burn the blue rays. No matter what these films are, they’re not going to wreck the old ones.

Hopefully.

Watch Out! You Don’t Fit into Society’s Rigid Gender Ideals and Therefore are about to be Crushed by an Ironic Symbol of Masculinity! she called only too late…

Here for you now, I present a collection of Milwaukee’s Best Light Beer commercials… Enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGItoKaX0BM

What do all of those commercials have in common? Beer. And also hegemonic masculinity.

Hegemonic masculinity is the term used to explain the criteria for being a “real man”; a model for all men to show how they “should” be. Generally, in American culture, there is only one complete unblushing male: a young, married, white, urban, heterosexual, Protestant, father, college educated, fully employed, handsome, tall, of the appropriate weight, and has a recent record in sports. And anyone who fails to qualify in any one of these ways at any time is likely to see himself as unworthy, incomplete, or inferior. Right? All other men who don’t fit this criteria are not manly at all. 

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The tagline of the beer is “Men should act like men”, and those who do not act like “men” should be crushed to death by an enormous beer can that falls from the heavens. Of course.

Clearly, this is unfair and sexist towards men. The men deserve to die because they are not acting like men, but are acting like women, and men becoming women is a fate deserving of death?

However, these men are not acting “like women”. They’re just not being stereotypical, hammer-up-the-drywall, macho-macho-masculine dudes.

The man who was showing love, warmth, affection, and sensitivity to a dog instead of working on the car? He definitely needed to die.

The guy who checked in with his wife? Acknowledging that he cares about his relationship? Obviously worthy of death. How dare a man be considerate. That’s just not how we do things here.

The dude with the clothes matching his wife? Whipped! He lost control of his woman. (And if you notice, once the guys reject him, his wife does too. She lets go of his hand and kind of inches away from him. Rejected by everyone.)

The man blotting his pizza, caring about his health, and perhaps even his appearance? Dead. And good riddance. (This is ironic because most older men in America have worse health than their wives. Not to mention this is a Light Beer commercial.)

A lot of this idea of masculinity has to do with the time we live in. If you notice, all of the “real” men are doing manual labor: digging a hole, fixing a car, grilling outdoors…. A hundred years ago, the perfect man would be he who did not have to do any physical labor. He would have slaves or servants to do it for him. Today, that has completely changed. The men were smoking, eating, drinking, working, getting dirty. Their masculinity was about brute strength. And this doesn’t really seem all that odd to us, because it is in fact hegemonic, and we don’t realize it’s there. We’ve integrated it into society so thickly, so deeply, that it only seems natural to us. Of course guys are rough and sweaty. What else would they be?

However, if this idea of “masculinity” was in fact natural, a hundred years ago the manliest men would also be digging holes and greasing up the … horses. If this really was natural, there wouldn’t be such great differences across time and space.

Here in America, two guys holding hands—not cool. Guys don’t generally hold hands, not unless their lovers. But in Africa, across the sea in the Middle East, guys hold hands. It’s a sign of friendship, of comradery. Guys do it all the time there, and it’s normal, it’s natural.

A guy I know, we’ll call him Gerard, served a Mission down in Africa recently. He had a tour guide to help him navigate the town. The tour guide was going to show him where such-and-such was, so he reached down to grab Gerard’s hand and instantly Gerard snatched his hand back, absolutely shocked. His tour guide looked at him strange, he was kind of hurt and confused. The tour guide was just trying to show him the way. Why had he not wanted to hold hands with him? Weren’t they pals?

It was extremely weird for Gerard to hold another man’s hand, and it was weird for the tour guide not to because of these two conflicting ideas of masculinity.

What’s so wrong with two guys holding hands in America? Oh right, because it’s “gay”.  … Oh, sorry, that was my cue: *Gasp!*

But wait, now why is that a bad thing? Oh right, because of this thing called hegemonic masculinity that says all real men are straight men, and real men are hardass Schwarzenegger S.O.B.’s that would never show affection or emotion because truly they’re half robot inside. And any deviancy will be met with the swift and just verdict of a giant beer can falling out of the sky to murder them on the spot. Silly me, how could I forget?

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Whoopsi daisy! How did that get there?

Baby Storm: the Genderless Child in a Gendered World

Somewhere up in Canada there lives a family. I have never met these people, never been invited to their house, I do not know their names. Yet, I know that they have a baby. This baby is named Storm, but I don’t know what sex this baby is. The mother isn’t telling anyone in an attempt to raise the child “genderless”. Or, perhaps not genderless, but more like without all the social pressures and stereotypes of what it means to be a male or a female (such as the all-pink aisle in Target. I wonder what that’s for?)

Alright, so I looked up their names. Halleluiah Google! The mother’s name is Kathy Witterick. After refusing to reveal her baby’s sex, the story exploded and went viral. People all over not just her nation, but our nation as well, couldn’t help but wonder what was in between this baby’s legs. But it’s only natural to want to know, right? Human nature has us constantly wondering about what’s between everybody’s legs!

It’s true, though. Ever see a guy wearing a dress, or a person in a baggy tee-shirt and jeans that you just couldn’t figure out? You do a double take, stare a little longer than usual, squint your eyes, tilt your head. Not going to lie, it’s kind of weird. But that’s because we’ve gendered ourselves so much.

Humans do this weird thing where we cover up what makes us male or female (our genitals), but we cover them in an explicit way that lets everyone know what’s underneath. Womens clothes are usually colored, cute, frilly, tight; while mens clothes tend to be more baggy, more neutral in color, more sport-like, more “masculine”. Here’s more ways we gender ourselves: men are buff, women are toned. Men are strong and distant, women are emotional. Men play sports and get dirty and sweaty and grunt, and women wear makeup and hairspray and perfume and talk. These stereotypes are built into our clothes, our personalities, our bodies. We do gender all the time, constantly, whether we realize it or not. It comes out of our mouths, and shows in our hair, and in the way we walk and sit in a chair.

Now, back to the baby. Is it so bad that the mother is raising her child “genderless” because we’ve so gendered our culture? We exaggerate the differences between our sexualities. And people who don’t exaggerate, maybe a girl with short hair who wears loose graphic tee-shirts, or a slimmer guy who’s sensitive and cares about how he looks, their sexualities are questioned because they deviate from the exaggerated norms we’ve created as a society about what it is to be male or female.

A lot of people are upset because if the baby doesn’t understand gender norms, will s/he be able to fit into society? Will Baby Storm not fit in because s/he doesn’t know if s/he’s male or female? Will children not accept him/her even though s/he’s a perfectly nice human being? Possibly. This decision will most likely affect Baby Storm’s entire life. But is it the mother’s fault for refusing to accept the way in which society operates, or is it our fault for participating in and continuing gendered society?
Is it anyone’s fault at all?

What do you think?

ACCIO Neil Patrick Harris

Have y’all seen the State Farm commercials? You know, the ones that sing? Here, let me try and post one… let’s see if this works… cross your fingers….

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yWuiguLBLbc

Ha! It worked! … Sort of.

Well, obviously it isn’t as spectacular for you because you could already see there was a video link, but it was a huge accomplishment for me. Okay, maybe not a huge accomplishment. It’s not like I won the Olympics or defeated a whole legion of dementors. Those would be huge accomplishments. This is more like…. snail sex. (What? Did I really just say snail sex? Why would I write that? I could’ve said it’s like after 20 years finally figuring out how to play hopscotch. That would’ve been much better. Oh well, can’t change it now.) Alright, fine, it’s not an accomplishment at all. Happy?

Anyways, we’ve gotten off point. So you know how the commercial works. You sing the jingle, add something you want like a hot tub or a sandwich, and bippity-boppity-boo, it appears.

I was hanging in the lounge of my building with some friends when this subject came up. We all took turns singing the jingle and then asking for something. When my turn came around, I asked for Neil Patrick Harris (of course).

Another girl, who was also in the lounge, turned to me and said “Yeah, good one. Except he’s gay, so that kind of ruins it.”

Kind of ruins it…. Kind of ruins what? I don’t understand. What was she expecting to do with a magically acquired man that she couldn’t do with a gay one? I wanted Neil so we could hang out and talk… and so he could sing me songs from Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog. What if I had said Tom Felton or Johnny Depp? What deplorable, perverted things were you planning on doing to my man, lady??

But let’s be honest, nothing could ruin NPH. Not even snail sex. True story.

You would think that after 20+ years on this Earth, of 20+ years being around people, that would be enough time to stop being shocked or surprised by what came out of people’s mouths. It’s not. We all know it’s not nearly enough time. You could double that number, probably even triple it, maybe even quadruple it, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

Sometimes, and this is only rarely, I wish I was Edward Cullen. Wait, hear me out. Because he was able to read people’s minds. Because behind every statement is the thought that lies beneath. Behind every question is the real question begging to be asked. Sometimes I wish I knew what people were actually thinking. And then I realize that I probably really, really don’t, because how terrifying would that be? I mean, sparkling in the sun? Not my idea of a good time.

Edward discovered that most people were thinking about sex or money. And sometimes cats. Which leads me back to Neil (the sex, not the cats). Why are we always thinking about sex? I’m not just talking about horny teenagers here, I mean throughout human history, dating all the way back to cave drawings and stick figure memes, sex has been an integral part of our lives, and it still is today. Tabloids and gossip magazines are always He cheated on her, or My mother’s having my baby, plus Guess who got caught, not to mention Their breaking up, and every once in a while Their getting back together, married, pregnant, divorced, and now she’s gay! on and on and on.

We, as a species, as a culture, are obsessed. Obsessed I say! Asking for a man with the State Farm song was only valid if I got a heterosexual man.

So here’s my two cents. Sex is not that important, not in the grand scheme of things, and not at the expense of other people. It seems like so much drama, whether real life or television life, stems from this. Don’t look at people as gateways to sex or salvation. Treat them as if they were human beings, because, baring any unforeseen pod people invasions, chances are they are.

Image.

Learn from the Giant Hamster Ball

Today, I was in a giant inflatable ball, rather like a hamster wheel. Here, let me show you a picture of one: Image

The Biological Engineering club had one on campus today. My friend somehow talked me into going inside of it. I can’t remember how she did it, I remember explicitly saying ‘no’ about a thousand times, and yet, somehow, I ended up in that giant hamster wheel. She must be a level twenty-seven word wizard!

My friend and I got in it together. It was exactly how I pictured it: my friend deviously throwing herself against the transparent walls, and me oh-so-gracefully flopping around inside. We acquired quite an audience, I’m told. I wouldn’t know, I was on my back most of the time. The rest of the time I was on my front, and just a few times I was on my face.

What does this have to do with anything? Good question. I will tell you. Always take opportunities. Even though I really, really wanted not to run around in the giant hamster wheel, I did. And even though it was humiliating, exhausting, confusing, topsy-turvy, backwards, strange, and slightly painful, it was the most fun I had in the past two weeks and something I will definitely never forget.

It seems as though in today’s world, whether it be business or home, women tend not to take all the opportunities they could. Women think “I’m not ready”, “I need more experience”, or “I don’t have enough education”. Whereas men tend to not worry so much about those kinds of things, and jump into opportunities like they jump into the swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated.

I didn’t feel I was coordinated enough for that ball. I figured I’d look the fool, the awkward, the weirdo. As soon as I stepped into that sphere though, it didn’t matter. I had to learn on the spot. I had to make sure my friend didn’t jump on my head (which she almost did. She must have Force-jumped over me or something, Good Lord!). Who cares if you’re not ready? Is anyone really “ready”? No. Life happens. Opportunities present themselves like fireflies in the night. You have to catch them when you see them, or you may never see them again.

Best Wishes,

thenerdfightingfeminist

I am a Feminist

Image I am a feminist. Yes, a feminist. Scary huh? And it probably came as a huge surprise.

What was the first image that sprung into your head? Hairy legs? Butch haircuts? Bra-burning and meetings of enraged housewives throwing down the man-hate? Maybe. Maybe not. Hopefully not.

Feminists get a bad rap. You tell girls you are one, and they give you a funny look. You tell the guys that, and they look at you horrified, like you’re about to kick them in the nads. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. Well, I’m here to tell you that feminism is none of that. It’s about equality for everyone.

 

The other day I was reading a book called Powerful Women in History (okay, this isn’t the exact title, but it’s pretty close). As I was reading it, a guy walked past me, glanced at my book, did a double take, and stopped in his tracks. He backed up.

“Powerful Women in History?” he asked, head cocked to one side. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

I was stunned. Floored, even. I didn’t know what to say. The guy shrugged and went on his merry way thinking nothing of it.

That’s why I’m here. This is what I’m doing. Feminism is the “radical” notion that women are people, not women riding on the shoulders of men with an Indiana Jones’ whip yelling “YAH! FASTER, MY BITCH, FASTER!”

No. Not here. Not ever. Here, everyone has a voice. Here, everyone is equal. I am a student, a feminist, a nerd, and now, a blogger. I am here for you.