Here's a job posting FD suggested might be right up my alley:
We are looking for a female to cook hamburgs ($2) and hotdogs ($1)on our outdoor grill . This will be once a week on Wednesday's from 5-8pm. You will be working for $3 an hr plus tips. Starting June 17th, every Wednesday throughout the summer we will be hosting a Bike Night in our parking lot. Looks and personality will go a long way As the night becomes popular your tips will grow. Could be a good way to make a little extra cash. If interested call me at 413-586-3315 to schedule an interview Bill
I couldn't resist emailing this Bill fool:
This ad is offensive, sexist, and discriminatory. And wow, $3/hour...that's a living wage around here, right? Cook your own goddamned hamburgers.
If you have any thoughts, you can email Bill too: job-g7hpn-1168900605@craigslist.org or just give him a call at the number above.
Douche.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Oh, Hey
This just made my day.
I'm not sure if that kid on the right is comfortable revisiting the birthing experience though. . .
I'm not sure if that kid on the right is comfortable revisiting the birthing experience though. . .
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Where's My Bat?
Alright, in the interest of full disclosure, I woke up on the cranky-ass side of the bed. And now I'm on a half-caf high (birthing a child has left me unable to consume fully caffeinated beverages. Blast!).
But now I'm just pissed. Because of this. And this. Oh, and this.
If you're too lazy, ahem, busy, to click on these links, I'll fill you in on what a six-month jail sentence, the Arizona fucking House of Representatives, and Dora the Explorer have in common: they are all pissing me off!
Some scumbag, let's call him Michael Philbin, son of a Green Bay Packers coach (I know, it's a real shocker), was kinda convicted on two counts of rape. At a single party (wow, a rapist with a real work ethic!). What does he get? Six months in prison and the chance to petition the court to remove the convictions from his record. Oh, and he doesn't have to register as a sex offender because the judge thinks that's overkill.
Then the Arizona House passed a bill requiring women who choose abortion to have a 24-hour waiting period and be subjected to "information" about the fetus' physical characteristics at that stage of pregnancy. Hmmm . . . You know what doesn't have a 24-hour waiting period so an individual can reflect and consider his actions? Rape.
And then there's this "Dora the Explorer" fiasco. As I mentioned earlier, Mattel is debuting an older, sexier Dora in the fall. Her image has finally been released and - surprise, surprise - she's got highlights! And nice slender legs. And a ladylike way about her. She loves to shop too! She's the perfect replacement for solid, adventurous, black-haired Dora because she was just too smart and too, you know, ethnic.
But now I'm just pissed. Because of this. And this. Oh, and this.
If you're too lazy, ahem, busy, to click on these links, I'll fill you in on what a six-month jail sentence, the Arizona fucking House of Representatives, and Dora the Explorer have in common: they are all pissing me off!
Some scumbag, let's call him Michael Philbin, son of a Green Bay Packers coach (I know, it's a real shocker), was kinda convicted on two counts of rape. At a single party (wow, a rapist with a real work ethic!). What does he get? Six months in prison and the chance to petition the court to remove the convictions from his record. Oh, and he doesn't have to register as a sex offender because the judge thinks that's overkill.
Then the Arizona House passed a bill requiring women who choose abortion to have a 24-hour waiting period and be subjected to "information" about the fetus' physical characteristics at that stage of pregnancy. Hmmm . . . You know what doesn't have a 24-hour waiting period so an individual can reflect and consider his actions? Rape.
And then there's this "Dora the Explorer" fiasco. As I mentioned earlier, Mattel is debuting an older, sexier Dora in the fall. Her image has finally been released and - surprise, surprise - she's got highlights! And nice slender legs. And a ladylike way about her. She loves to shop too! She's the perfect replacement for solid, adventurous, black-haired Dora because she was just too smart and too, you know, ethnic.
Women will never get ahead in this country by passing the occasional anti-discrimination bill or giving money to politicians who claim to care about their interests. We'll never see a nation that values women and girls and their contributions and talents and capacities with a Women's Equality Day or a two-week paid maternity leave. No, I've always believed that the only way women will access all of our rights is by taking them; by coming together and committing direct actions that challenge - and ultimately defeat - the powers of capitalism and patriarchy that are keeping us down (whew, who's this misty-eyed "idealist?"). And my own fantasy direct action involves breakin' stuff up and burnin' stuff down.*
And so, as I am reminded on this crisp Tuesday morning that the courts don't consider rape a serious crime, that politicians don't consider women capable of making the "big" decisions, and that corporations don't consider girlhood sacred, I'm thinking it's finally time to lace up the sneakers and grab my bat.
Anyone with me? Anyone?
*If "the Man" is reading this, I'm not actually advocating burning anything down. Yet. I'll let you know, though.
Friday, March 6, 2009
"Dora the Explora-Whore-A"
For those of you without a daughter to raise, the happenings in the girl's toys and entertainment world might not be the first thing on your mind. But for me, the images marketed to girls are always on my mind. And, not surprisingly, the toys that are being marketed to young girls today are more sexualized, more anorexized (is that a word?), and more vapid than ever. In other words, toy companies and children's entertainment corporations have decided to send this message to our daughters: "Be skinny! Be cute! Be sexy! And don't be too smart!" Because, you know, it's better to teach these lessons to girls when they're young enough to fully absorb them.
Ruby watches very little tv, but if she had her way, she'd be hooked up to a "Dora the Explorer" IV. She loves Dora. She reads Dora books and kisses her Dora pillowcase; she sings the Dora song and dances the Dora dance, and she's even working on her Spanish (she's a pro at "pantalones"). And for the most part, I'm comfortable with this. Dora is short ans squat. She looks like a toddler. She's brown. She's bilingual. She's fearless and adventurous and compassionate. She's not the typical scrawny, blond image that Ruby will be inundated with as soon as she gets to watch television outside of our home or walk down a toy aisle.
Of course, Dora isn't the first girls' idol to be transformed from an imagination toy into a hyper-sexed version of its former self.
Today? She's got a slender build, an upturned rump, long, flirty lashes, and she looks like she's ready for something entirely unwholesome:
The Barbies I played with (who were, admittedly, little vixens) came with their own set of expectations about what a woman's body should look like. But today, girls are playing with Bratz dolls, and let's just say the lips on those dolls were not meant for whistling. 
You can sign a petition to encourage Mattel and Nickelodeon (the network airing Dora episodes) to release the Dora likeness, or create a pre-teen character who is "true to who she was as a child."
Ruby watches very little tv, but if she had her way, she'd be hooked up to a "Dora the Explorer" IV. She loves Dora. She reads Dora books and kisses her Dora pillowcase; she sings the Dora song and dances the Dora dance, and she's even working on her Spanish (she's a pro at "pantalones"). And for the most part, I'm comfortable with this. Dora is short ans squat. She looks like a toddler. She's brown. She's bilingual. She's fearless and adventurous and compassionate. She's not the typical scrawny, blond image that Ruby will be inundated with as soon as she gets to watch television outside of our home or walk down a toy aisle.
But unfortunately, "Dora the Explorer" is the latest fictionalized heroine to get a corporate makeover. Coming this fall will be a new, tween Dora who's got new friends, a greater focus on fashion, and according to all insiders who have seen the doll mock-up, a tiny waste, and long flowing hair that is not quite appropriate for tree-swinging, and climbing a snowy mountain with her pal Boots.
Dora will go from this: 
To this:
To this:
Say What?
The My Little Pony of my youth was a chubby, stumpy-legged horse:
Today? She's got a slender build, an upturned rump, long, flirty lashes, and she looks like she's ready for something entirely unwholesome:
The Barbies I played with (who were, admittedly, little vixens) came with their own set of expectations about what a woman's body should look like. But today, girls are playing with Bratz dolls, and let's just say the lips on those dolls were not meant for whistling. 
You can sign a petition to encourage Mattel and Nickelodeon (the network airing Dora episodes) to release the Dora likeness, or create a pre-teen character who is "true to who she was as a child."Thursday, March 5, 2009
Michelle, You Don't Have to be so Flat.
I've been thinking a lot about high heels lately, in part because I'm obsessed with learning how to walk in them so that I can appropriately accessorize a cute skirt/dress to a summer wedding. But lately, there's also been quite a bit of noise in the blogosphere about Michelle Obama wearing (or not wearing as it were) high heels.
It seems that Ms. Obama, nearly six-feet-tall, often chooses to wear flats rather than the more traditional pump. The Huffington Post even ran a photo retrospective on Obama's fashionable flats, which I scrolled through to discover that the First Lady really knows how to buy a shoe. But then I read the comments. Many readers lauded Obama's choice to wear flats for health reasons; others congratulated her on her willingness to shirk tradition and pursue her own style. But then there were then countless readers (many of them women) who claimed that, because Obama is so tall, she really should stay out of heels, lest her husband - you know, the president - look short. Huh?
Some less-than-informed attempted-feminists think that, because heels are bad for the foot, women should never wear them. Some even go so far as to suggest that, because heels are generally worn to look sexy, they always make a woman an object of desire (i.e., "objectify" her). And even many Huffington Post readers, and dare I say many women living in this country, think a tall women should not wear a shoe that would make her appear taller than her male counterpart because it would, you know, like, emasculate him. There are two kinds of arguments going on here, but I think they're both all kinds of crazy!
It seems that Ms. Obama, nearly six-feet-tall, often chooses to wear flats rather than the more traditional pump. The Huffington Post even ran a photo retrospective on Obama's fashionable flats, which I scrolled through to discover that the First Lady really knows how to buy a shoe. But then I read the comments. Many readers lauded Obama's choice to wear flats for health reasons; others congratulated her on her willingness to shirk tradition and pursue her own style. But then there were then countless readers (many of them women) who claimed that, because Obama is so tall, she really should stay out of heels, lest her husband - you know, the president - look short. Huh?
Some less-than-informed attempted-feminists think that, because heels are bad for the foot, women should never wear them. Some even go so far as to suggest that, because heels are generally worn to look sexy, they always make a woman an object of desire (i.e., "objectify" her). And even many Huffington Post readers, and dare I say many women living in this country, think a tall women should not wear a shoe that would make her appear taller than her male counterpart because it would, you know, like, emasculate him. There are two kinds of arguments going on here, but I think they're both all kinds of crazy!
One of the most important lessons feminism has taught me is that a woman can - and should - make a variety of choices. She can rock the Tevas and cargo shorts (although lord knows why). She can do the fashionable flats for comfort and maybe a nod to Audrey. Or she can wear four-inch heels that hurt to walk in just because she chooses to. Women can decide to cover themselves from foot to throat to remove nearly every possibility that someone would find her sexually appealing, or she could go for the plunging-neckline and stripper stiletto look to ensure than no one could avoid seeing her as a sex object. The point is that women can make all sorts of personal and fashion choices and just because I probably wouldn't go the Teva or neckline-to-the-naval routes doesn't mean that I can decide that the woman who does needs some serious consciousness-raising (although some of them probably do).
But the Michelle Obama "Flatsoversy" has taken the arguments of some of my crunchier sister-feminists and twisted them with decidedly anti-feminist arguments about what women should look like, and how they should look in relation to the men in their lives. The suggestion that a man being, or even appearing to be, less tall than his wife is somehow detrimental to his "manhood" is a joke. If a man, let alone the president, can't handle a tall woman, then he's a pretty sad character.
And really, other than Right-wing extremists/bible-beaters, who even uses terms like "manhood" and "emasculate" anyway? The notion that manhood is something that needs to be protected at the expense of women's fashion choices is a joke. Men are not endangered species who need a nature conservancy full of short woman to make them feel better. And Barack Obama doesn't need his wife to pick shoes that won't hurt his feelings.
Of course, all this is speculation. My best guess is Michelle Obama just likes flats, not heels. And that's fine. They're her feet.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
"The Testing Twos"
I was talking to my buddy this morning, complaining that I absolutely loathe the phrase "terrible twos." What does it even mean? Does it mean that when your kid hits a certain age, her behavior is terrible? Her personality is terrible? Her attitude is terrible?
Who decided it was acceptable to talk about our children this way?
My girl is twenty months old. Last night, she had a meltdown that made her turn purple. She screamed and sobbed and kicked, and I felt so sad for her the whole time. I tried to minimize it, I tried to soothe her, to calm her down. Eventually, nursing worked (of course, the look she gave me when I first offered the breast was pretty harsh!), but only after a solid twenty minutes of her deciding that I was single-handedly trying to ruin all the fun.
So her little meltdowns, which are more and more common these days, got me thinking about how everyone warns about "the terrible twos," while they shake their heads and give a "you'll learn" look. And while these storm-warners are right, that at a certain developmental point - nearing the second birthday for most children - a child's desire to test limits intensifies, I think of it more as the "Testing Twos" than the terrible sort.
My baby girl is still the sweet, hilarious person she's always been. But sometimes she gets pissed.
Like when we won't let her into the silverware drawer! We are so selfish.
Like when we won't let her climb up a steep set of stairs! How do we even live with ourselves.
Like when we think it's not a good idea to get into the dog food or open the back door! We ruin everything.
Ruby wants to do what she wants to do at the precise moment she decides she wants to do it. I know this because I feel the same way, and if it were socially appropriate for me to arch my back and throw myself, screaming, onto the ground when someone steals my parking spot or gives me attitude, you can bet I would do it. But I don't, largely because I'm an adult who has figured out not just social codes of behavior, but the more elemental stuff - like what is and isn't safe to do. Ruby is just getting to these issues. We can't expect her to know which behaviors endanger her, and we shouldn't say she's "terrible" because she doesn't know. She's just testing the boundaries, and it's our job to guide her gently, not castigate her for acting, gasp!, her age.
Who decided it was acceptable to talk about our children this way?
My girl is twenty months old. Last night, she had a meltdown that made her turn purple. She screamed and sobbed and kicked, and I felt so sad for her the whole time. I tried to minimize it, I tried to soothe her, to calm her down. Eventually, nursing worked (of course, the look she gave me when I first offered the breast was pretty harsh!), but only after a solid twenty minutes of her deciding that I was single-handedly trying to ruin all the fun.
So her little meltdowns, which are more and more common these days, got me thinking about how everyone warns about "the terrible twos," while they shake their heads and give a "you'll learn" look. And while these storm-warners are right, that at a certain developmental point - nearing the second birthday for most children - a child's desire to test limits intensifies, I think of it more as the "Testing Twos" than the terrible sort.
My baby girl is still the sweet, hilarious person she's always been. But sometimes she gets pissed.
Like when we won't let her into the silverware drawer! We are so selfish.
Like when we won't let her climb up a steep set of stairs! How do we even live with ourselves.
Like when we think it's not a good idea to get into the dog food or open the back door! We ruin everything.
Ruby wants to do what she wants to do at the precise moment she decides she wants to do it. I know this because I feel the same way, and if it were socially appropriate for me to arch my back and throw myself, screaming, onto the ground when someone steals my parking spot or gives me attitude, you can bet I would do it. But I don't, largely because I'm an adult who has figured out not just social codes of behavior, but the more elemental stuff - like what is and isn't safe to do. Ruby is just getting to these issues. We can't expect her to know which behaviors endanger her, and we shouldn't say she's "terrible" because she doesn't know. She's just testing the boundaries, and it's our job to guide her gently, not castigate her for acting, gasp!, her age.
Monday, February 16, 2009
25 Things About Me You Don't Really Need to Know
So my baby and baby-daddy are sleeping and I'm seriously tempted to start playing Mah Jongg on the computer, which means I'll almost immediately get sucked into an alternate universe where it's acceptable to be, ah, 29 and playing computer game based on a board game commonly played by Jewish grandmothers. So, instead, I thought I'd do one of those "25 Things About Me" questionnaires that are all the rage on Facebook, but which I'm too afraid to do on Facebook because what if any of my crazy could really be linked to me.....
1. If I could create my dream job, I'd be a rapist-hunter, not to be confused with a rapist/hunter because that's just wrong. No a rapist-hunter is a woman (MUST be a woman, kind of like a Slayer), who travels from place to place under the cloak of darkness and wipes out rapists, wife-beaters, child abusers and the like. Said hunter must also have a cool weapon, like a honed wooden spear with a Chinese Star attached to the end. Cape optional. I think they get in the way.
2. I have never dated a man I couldn't take in a fight. The FD might disagree with me on this one, but he shouldn't try me.
3. I don't want to get married, except I think it would be fun to plan a big party and sample cakes and put together a play-list. And I wouldn't mind a very fancy diamond ring, mainly so I could hock it for cash!
4. I miss California more and more every winter I spend in Massachusetts, or what I like to call, "The California of the East." What? There are similarities.
5. I love my baby girl's name - Ruby - and I'll always hold it against those a-holes who don't, especially one of FD's family members who said it wasn't "sexy." Creepiness factor? 100. Please refer to #1
6. I am a hard-core feminist, but I love super fucked-up non-feminist things. Not like snuff porn (but I'm not judging); more like "Bridezillas" and "7th Heaven." But I get around it by having a feminist critique of "Bridezillas" if anyone ever catches me cracking up on the couch watching WE. As for "The Heaven," I'll just blame it on 12 years of Catholic school gone wrong.
7. I want a really delicious bourbon-based cocktail that doesn't exist. How come all the vodka drinkers get the fancy drinks, and I'm stuck drinking it neat? Don't get me wrong, neat is good, but sometimes I want something sparkly.
8. I want to go to Spain already! I've wanted to go for maybe 16 years, and I haven't, but I'm pretty worried it would turn out all Alanis Morrisette: "She waited 16 years to go to Spain, then her plane crashed down and she thought, Isn't this lame."
9. I am going to learn to walk in heels this year. For real. Like a pro. Then I'm going to put on shorts, get hosed down, and run through the streets of New York yelling, "Pete!"
10. During my junior year in high school (ick. gag.), my religion teacher, Father O'Connor, used to call me a "trucker babe" and "feminazi," which I think were code words for lesbian.
11. I think the FD is the very best cook in the world. He knows everything about food, and he does sick, twisted, messed-up good things to it!
12. If I could eat one thing every day, it would be a super-ripe, sun-warmed, fresh-from-an-organic-July-garden tomato. Oh lord baby Jesus. There is nothing like it.
13. FD and I met on Valentine's Day. In a bar. Hotness.
14. I had this really crunchy, natural birth planned when I was pregnant. It was going to involve a tub and a soothing midwife, and music. Instead, I had to have a cesarean (no, really. Not like, "oh, I'm a celebrity and I had to have a cesarean because it's the only way they could do the tummy tuck at the same time"). It took me a while to get over it. But my girl is the SMARTEST, funniest, most gorgeous thing in the world, so it kind of makes sense that they had to cut her out of me.
15. I still breastfeed my 20-month-old baby and now she can tell me which side she wants to nurse on and, when she's had enough, she says, "Put the boob away, Mama" while giving it a dismissive pat.
16. Is it just me or is American history so, so boring? Unless it's about early feminists, or how Ben Franklin was a total drunk, I can't keep my eyes open.
17. I have names picked out for our future kids, but FD isn't on board with any of them. Part of me thinks we should just come up with a new name when it's time in a respectful and cooperative manner. Part of me thinks I should start the baby-daddy interview process soon.
18. I love big feet and big eyebrows on women. I think they're tough.
19. I have big eyebrows. They're tough.
20. I don't wash my feet that much. I know, I know.
21. I want to wear flip flops every single day. But I'm too busy running through the streets of New York in heels.
22. My sister and I call each other "sis." I think that's cute.
23. If I were really rich, I'd pay someone to wash and dry my hair every day . . . um, I mean, I'd donate it all to charity. Children's charity. Yep.
24. I flat-out HATE anti-feminists. I'm not into that "I respect your opinion" or "we'll agree to disagree" bullshit. Fuck that. That's for pansy-ass motherfuckers. If you think you have a right to tell me, or any woman, what to do with her uterus (or other parts for that matter), you're asking for it. If you think there's "women's work," you deserve a nice, hard punch in the gut. If you're raising your daughters on Bratz dolls and sugar-free (and cancer-rich) treats, you should be checked in somewhere. Oh, and to that woman - I'll call her Jen - outside the Planned Parenthood in Brookline a few years back, praying the rosary and getting in my face. I really hate you.
25. I've got a lot of anger. And I like to swear.
1. If I could create my dream job, I'd be a rapist-hunter, not to be confused with a rapist/hunter because that's just wrong. No a rapist-hunter is a woman (MUST be a woman, kind of like a Slayer), who travels from place to place under the cloak of darkness and wipes out rapists, wife-beaters, child abusers and the like. Said hunter must also have a cool weapon, like a honed wooden spear with a Chinese Star attached to the end. Cape optional. I think they get in the way.
2. I have never dated a man I couldn't take in a fight. The FD might disagree with me on this one, but he shouldn't try me.
3. I don't want to get married, except I think it would be fun to plan a big party and sample cakes and put together a play-list. And I wouldn't mind a very fancy diamond ring, mainly so I could hock it for cash!
4. I miss California more and more every winter I spend in Massachusetts, or what I like to call, "The California of the East." What? There are similarities.
5. I love my baby girl's name - Ruby - and I'll always hold it against those a-holes who don't, especially one of FD's family members who said it wasn't "sexy." Creepiness factor? 100. Please refer to #1
6. I am a hard-core feminist, but I love super fucked-up non-feminist things. Not like snuff porn (but I'm not judging); more like "Bridezillas" and "7th Heaven." But I get around it by having a feminist critique of "Bridezillas" if anyone ever catches me cracking up on the couch watching WE. As for "The Heaven," I'll just blame it on 12 years of Catholic school gone wrong.
7. I want a really delicious bourbon-based cocktail that doesn't exist. How come all the vodka drinkers get the fancy drinks, and I'm stuck drinking it neat? Don't get me wrong, neat is good, but sometimes I want something sparkly.
8. I want to go to Spain already! I've wanted to go for maybe 16 years, and I haven't, but I'm pretty worried it would turn out all Alanis Morrisette: "She waited 16 years to go to Spain, then her plane crashed down and she thought, Isn't this lame."
9. I am going to learn to walk in heels this year. For real. Like a pro. Then I'm going to put on shorts, get hosed down, and run through the streets of New York yelling, "Pete!"
10. During my junior year in high school (ick. gag.), my religion teacher, Father O'Connor, used to call me a "trucker babe" and "feminazi," which I think were code words for lesbian.
11. I think the FD is the very best cook in the world. He knows everything about food, and he does sick, twisted, messed-up good things to it!
12. If I could eat one thing every day, it would be a super-ripe, sun-warmed, fresh-from-an-organic-July-garden tomato. Oh lord baby Jesus. There is nothing like it.
13. FD and I met on Valentine's Day. In a bar. Hotness.
14. I had this really crunchy, natural birth planned when I was pregnant. It was going to involve a tub and a soothing midwife, and music. Instead, I had to have a cesarean (no, really. Not like, "oh, I'm a celebrity and I had to have a cesarean because it's the only way they could do the tummy tuck at the same time"). It took me a while to get over it. But my girl is the SMARTEST, funniest, most gorgeous thing in the world, so it kind of makes sense that they had to cut her out of me.
15. I still breastfeed my 20-month-old baby and now she can tell me which side she wants to nurse on and, when she's had enough, she says, "Put the boob away, Mama" while giving it a dismissive pat.
16. Is it just me or is American history so, so boring? Unless it's about early feminists, or how Ben Franklin was a total drunk, I can't keep my eyes open.
17. I have names picked out for our future kids, but FD isn't on board with any of them. Part of me thinks we should just come up with a new name when it's time in a respectful and cooperative manner. Part of me thinks I should start the baby-daddy interview process soon.
18. I love big feet and big eyebrows on women. I think they're tough.
19. I have big eyebrows. They're tough.
20. I don't wash my feet that much. I know, I know.
21. I want to wear flip flops every single day. But I'm too busy running through the streets of New York in heels.
22. My sister and I call each other "sis." I think that's cute.
23. If I were really rich, I'd pay someone to wash and dry my hair every day . . . um, I mean, I'd donate it all to charity. Children's charity. Yep.
24. I flat-out HATE anti-feminists. I'm not into that "I respect your opinion" or "we'll agree to disagree" bullshit. Fuck that. That's for pansy-ass motherfuckers. If you think you have a right to tell me, or any woman, what to do with her uterus (or other parts for that matter), you're asking for it. If you think there's "women's work," you deserve a nice, hard punch in the gut. If you're raising your daughters on Bratz dolls and sugar-free (and cancer-rich) treats, you should be checked in somewhere. Oh, and to that woman - I'll call her Jen - outside the Planned Parenthood in Brookline a few years back, praying the rosary and getting in my face. I really hate you.
25. I've got a lot of anger. And I like to swear.
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