A Sally Jessy Raphael Revenge Fantasy/ The Case of The Disappearing Bully

You know how on talk shows like Sally Jessy Raphael and Ricki Lake and all the other ones, they used to have those "geek to chic" episodes where a school bully would be surprised on the show by a former classmate they used to tease who was now hot and awesome (or, in the case of Jenny Jones, a stripper or porn star)? I used to love that shit. In fact, fantasizing about the day when I would finally appear on one of those episodes was half of what got me through middle school. I knew exactly who I would bring on, too. This girl Rae Ann, who made my life a living hell all through school. She was horrible to everyone, but I was her special project. She hated me for reasons I've never understood, nor do I really want to.

"How could you have been so cruel to this obviously marvelous human being!" Sally Jessy would say.

In this daydream, she'd be there, sitting in the chair, all raggedy and trailer park-y and possibly missing teeth. Still with the spiral perm and tight rolled pants and cruel eyes and stupid pointy face. "I can't possibly imagine who this could be, I was so popular in school!" she would say. And then I would emerge from backstage. She wouldn't recognize me because I wouldn't have braces or the huge gap in my teeth that I had before the braces, I wouldn't have frizzy hair, I wouldn't be backed into a wall on the playground while she and her minions surrounded me, demanding to know why I was wearing bell bottoms when I was not in fact wearing bell bottoms. I would be a GLORIOUS BUTTERFLY, and I would be wearing a long red sequined cocktail dress like Jessica Rabbit, because that is what I thought glamorous people wore all of the time when I was 10. I would be a Broadway Star, Nobel Peace Prize Winner, Acclaimed Novelist and Renowned Tireless Advocate for Social Justice! I would tell the whole audience, nay, the whole world, how she had tortured me. How I had hid from her in the ceiling of our sixth grade bathroom to avoid her trying to beat me up. How I spent every day hoping to god she would just leave me alone, and how that never happened, ever. Except for the one time where she told me that I was pretty and could be popular if only I would tight roll my pants and not be so weird all of the time. Sally Jessy would be all like "How can you live with yourself knowing that you destroyed this poor girls childhood! And how do you feel about the fact that she is so much more awesome than you are now?" And the whole audience would cheer for me, and demand that I favor them with a song from my new show. And they would boo her, and maybe throw some rotten vegetables at her or something. She would be filled with such shame, and she would apologize for having made my life a living hell for ten years, and she would beg my forgiveness. I would give it to her. I would even offer to pay to have her teeth fixed, because that would just be the kind of wonderful, gracious person I was.

Feel free to listen to this while you read for the full effect.

I don't fantasize about that anymore. Because I am an adult now and would feel pretty weird about going on a TV show to brag about how awesome I've become. Also, I think bullying is shitty whether you grow up to become a glorious beautiful butterfly or not. For the most part, I am also pretty much over the whole Carrie Without The Telekinetic Powers era of my life. I mean, there was definitely some PTSD going on for a while. There were things that I thought and ways that I dealt with things that were a direct result of all of that. Some of them were good, like the fact that I am always very concerned that people feel included and important. I've made some great friends that way. Some of them were not so good, like the fact that it took me a very long time to accept that people who were my friends were not going to turn around one day and yell "Psych!" at me. On my more depressive days, the well that I go to is still that everyone must secretly hate me. The hardest thing to get over was this idea I had that there was something deeply wrong with me that everyone could see but that I would never be able to understand. Like the whole world was keeping some secret about how terrible I was, and I was so awful that they wouldn't even deign to tell me. A lot of that is because I never really understood how or why I had become a target in the first place. When you're a target,  it's like every single thing you do is wrong, is something people will make fun of you for. Anything you do is wrong simply because you're the one doing it. It's horrible, and it can make you insanely paranoid. 

That being said, I've searched for her for years. I've googled to no avail. I've asked people about her, and no one has any idea what became of her. Hell, they don't even know if she graduated with them (I moved to Rochester when I as 15). She's not on Facebook, though I can hardly blame her. I imagine if she did have one she'd be constantly inundated with messages from people like me. I wonder about what happened to her a lot. I wonder if she's still cruel. I wonder if she is locked up in a mental institution, driven insane by the guilt. I wonder if she pissed off the wrong person and ended up in WITSEC. It used to be because I needed to know why. I had this thing in my head, telling me if I could just understand why it happened, why I was a target, then I could fix it all. I always had a really hard time believing that people were assholes "just because", probably because my mom had me read The Diary of Anne Frank in 2nd Grade and if Anne Frank could believe that everyone was really good at heart, than how could I not think that? After all, I was just some girl who got picked on in school! I wasn't being hunted by Nazis. Who was I to not think everyone was good at heart? And if everyone was really good at heart, then they just must have had a had a reason for hating me that they wouldn't disclose to me, because it was *that* terrible, that shameful, and that awful. I realize now that this is faulty logic, I realize now that sometimes there just aren't reasons, but hell, I was a kid, not a logician. 

I don't feel like I need to know why anymore. I doubt I'd ever get a satisfactory answer, in fact, I doubt that there is one, and even if there was, I doubt that I would give even really give a shit. Growing up and meeting other people who have gone through this, whom I find nothing deeply, inherently wrong with, is sort of what made me realize that. In fact, almost every kick ass person I know was bullied as a kid. Also, realizing that I will never go through something like that again, but that I did, and that I survived, is also pretty awesome. I know that it wasn't just her doing the bullying, it was a lot of people. It was also the people who never said anything. Hell, in a way it was some of my "friends" who were only willing to hang out with me in secret, outside of school, for fear of getting taunted themselves. But a part of me will always be dying to know what ever became of her. I will probably Google her name once every few months for the rest of my life. There will still probably be days when I lie in bed and daydream up a letter to her, admonishing her for all that childhood cruelty. Hell, there will probably still be days when I have my Sally Jessy Raphael revenge fantasy. It will always feel like some strange unsolved mystery to me, it will always hang over my head in one way or another- because no matter how "over it:" I am, this girl still played a huge part in who I am today, both good and bad, and I will probably always want some sort of closure, whatever that is. 

Delusions For Everybody!

So, here are two things you can know about me right now- I have not posted anything about my personal self on the internet in a few years for the same reason I have actually been avoiding the crap out of any dude that I feel may not promptly disappear after a few weeks. As previously mentioned, I had a stalking incident involving this very blog, and even thought it wasn't that bad, I never fully recovered. I didn't realize that I'd been seriously avoiding men until last night when I got a message from Rick Astley and felt sick to my stomach.

Get it? Rick Astley? Never Gonna Give You Up?

Rick Astley was not my stalker. He's just this sort of clueless dude that stuff happened with a few times by accident SEVERAL YEARS AGO who does not seem to realize (despite my ignoring him for three years) that I am not interested in him. It's not a big deal, he's not a jerk, I should not feel "threatened" in anyway. Of course, I feel completely threatened because I always have that lingering fear that a dude is going to go all Glenn Close on me again. 


However, I need to get the fuck over all of this. Now that I have come to terms with what my crazy is, I can just go ahead and stop it. 


Now that THAT'S dealt with, let me tell you about last night.


I work at a fancy ass restaurant. Last night, at said fancy ass restaurant, a lady came in wearing only a bra, a cardigan, tights and a sheer lace skirt. Not a fancy bra, mind you, but like, the same sort of t-shirt bra that I was wearing UNDERNEATH MY CLOTHES. Like a sucker. Or an Amish person. One of those things. She was all kinds of nonchalant about the fact that she was out at a fancy restaurant, on a Wednesday, in her underwear. Because why shouldn't she be? 


I was a little jealous, honestly. I've had no less than fifty seven panic attacks this week over the fact that I am obviously a hideous monster and the fact that everyone secretly hates my guts and all of my friends are just humoring me out of pity. Every time I leave the house, I want to die/ just run back to the bell tower and sob and pet my cat and eat Nutella out of the jar as the good lord intended. Before you get all "OH NO GIRL, YOU ARE LOVELY AND EVERYONE LOVES YOU AND YOU ARE OBVIOUSLY JUST FISHING FOR COMPLIMENTS" on me, I should tell you that I am cognitively aware that these things are not true and also that I am totally uncomfortable with compliments and would therefore never fish for them. It's just that I've got this wacky pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder thing that makes me feel like they're true for a few days each month. It's fucking horrible. 


But something about the naked lady caused me to snap out of it. So, you know, thanks, naked lady!


So anyway, AFTER work I go to the bar next door to my apartment because obviously I need a goddamned drink, and I need to tell people about the naked lady. Obviously. And obviously, I end up in a conversation with some random dude about privilege systems, because that is just apparently how I roll. That's my comfort zone, I guess. 


It came up because he was talking about how he was homeless at one point and, um, was mad because a random black person yelled something out of a car at him one time? I don't know, it sounded like he made it up. Anyway, the gist of his story was the fact that said black person didn't realize that he wasn't white. 


"I am pretty sure you're white." I said, being that he was a white guy and all.


"I'm not white and neither are you", he tells me. I stare at my pasty ass arm. 


"Huh".


He then goes on some diatribe about how we're Italian and thus descended from Moors and thus not white. Which is actually not even true (sorry, you can't believe everything you hear in Quentin Tarantino movies...), and even if it were, it would not matter because no one is sitting around contemplating our ancestral history before deciding whether or not we get to benefit from white privilege. That is not how it works. That is just not how anything works. 


Because I have poor judgement, don't realize when I'm talking to a dumb person, and also probably just like to hear myself talk, I think I went on for about five minutes trying to explain Sociology 101 to this idiot. I am pretty sure that at one point I yelled "Race is a social construction!" into the night.


This whole "Italians are not white" thing is only something I've heard since moving to Chicago. Maybe because there are fewer of us here? I don't know. I mean, sure, some people here totally think that any relative I mention with a vaguely ethnic sounding name is DEFINITELY in the mob, and will give me knowing looks to that effect, but that is merely hilarious. That is not systemic oppression of any kind. 


So what fantastic moral lesson did I learn last night? I learned that everyone is fucking delusional in their own special way. If I am going to be delusional, I want to be delusional like the underwear girl was. I want to be that kind of delusional. Because I bet she's really happy and feels great about herself always. We should all be so lucky to be that kind of crazy. 

Is This The Weirdest Crisis Pregnancy Center Ever?

Ok, so, here I am, going about my own business, Googling around to see what sort of crazy crap the Republicans are pulling *today* regarding our collective vaginas, when LOW AND BEHOLD, an advertisement for an organization called "My Choice Chicago" stating, and I quote, "Abortion Chicago Free- It's Your Choice: "You May Not Need An Abortion! Free Ultrasound and Test". 

I had to "re-google" a couple other things to find it again, but please note that 2/3 of the ads in search results for "Abortion Free Chicago" are for CPC's

Though I am loathe to click on such an advertisement, for fear that said click will result in some kind of implicit endorsement of something shady, my curiosity got the better of me. Why, oh why, oh WHY might one not *need* an abortion? Inquiring minds, bitches.


Obviously, My Choice Chicago is one of those "Crisis Pregnancy Centers". If you are not familiar, Crisis Pregnancy Centers are unbelievably shady organizations that pretend to be abortion clinics, but then when a woman shows up looking to obtain an abortion, they attack her with a barrage of crazypants anti-choice lies and try to talk her out of it. There are also several instances in which these organizations have lied to women (either by telling them they're not pregnant in the first place, or by repeatedly "delaying" their "appointment" for an abortion) in order to put them off until the abortion would no longer be legal. Amazingly, these centers are funded by your tax dollars. Which is incredibly frustrating given the huge cuts to organizations that provide actual health services to women. Here are the results of a study NARAL did a while back on 15 different CPC's:

■ 73% of the CPCs investigated repeated the false claim that there
is a link between abortion and an increased risk of developing
breast cancer.
■ 87% of CPCs investigated advised that abortion will lead to severe
mental health problems.
■ 67% highlighted a link between future infertility and abortion
either through personal stories, pamphlets distributed at the CPC
or through their website. In addition, 75% of CPCs investigated
suggested a link between abortion and future miscarriages.
■ One CPC lists their position on abortion explicitly on their
website. For other CPCs, it is only after a woman arrives in-person
at the CPC that their true bias is disclosed.
■ None of CPCs investigated refer women for birth control. In
fact, 67% provided misleading information regarding the risks
associated with birth control and 60% provided medically
inaccurate information about Emergency Contraception (EC).
■ Based on research by NPCMF, the majority (87%) of CPC representatives
were medically untrained volunteers.


So, yeah. Your tax dollars at work! In the few instances in which there has been some kind of legislation to prevent these organizations from lying to women, they have insisted that it is their "first amendment right" to do so. Which is gross. It hasn't worked, but it's still gross. 


So what's different about My Choice Chicago? Remember that little blurb about "You may not need an abortion"?


Well, guess why? On their website is a darling collection of "statistics" stating that 1 in 4 pregnancies will just end in miscarriage anyway! Which, duh, is not true- only 10% of pregnancies are likely to end in miscarriage after the first missed period. But, they are more than happy to provide "testing" to see if you are one of those lucky women who don't need an abortion because the pregnancy will likely end in a miscarriage.

(This is from the Nevada branch, I couldn't find an image for the Chicago one, but it's the exact same thing)

Why, oh why, do I have this sinking feeling that any woman who walks in there looking to get an abortion will be deemed "likely to miscarry" regardless of the actual health of the fetus? Does anyone know a pro-choice, newly pregnant woman who wants to do an undercover investigation? There can be trench coats!


As it turns out, "My Choice Chicago" is part of a much larger network of CPC's called "Enlightened Woman Centers"- all of which have the "You don't need an abortion! You're just going to miscarry anyway!" angle. Do I even have to elaborate on how disturbing that is? Especially because I think we can all understand that not having to go through serious invasive surgery, or pay for said invasive surgery, might seem like bit of a relief. Surgery is scary! I'm still to scared of it to have a breast reduction! I can completely understand why someone might find this appealing on some level, despite how traumatic (and painful, and possibly dangerous) a miscarriage would be. 

Once you get to the fine print, the organization does not state that any of its centers (there are three of them in the Chicago area) actually provide abortions. Which I suppose is a plus. However, the rest of the site seems to explicitly use "pro-choice", kinda feministy language ("It's your choice! This is what Roe v. Wade said! Yay women!), which to me seems intentionally misleading. Not to mention the "Free Abortions!" ad on Google. 

I find this particular CPC far more disturbing than any other I have come across. The likely result of telling women they are going to miscarry when they will not is not only unwanted children, but unwanted, possibly unhealthy children- given the fact that a woman who believes she will miscarry will likely not get the necessary medical treatment. How these people sleep at night is beyond me. 

If I Were Christian, I'd Probably Hate Women Too

I am no religious scholar. Unlike even most people I know who are now atheists, I did not grow up with religion. The closest we ever got to magical thinking in my house was when my mom needed a break and would tell me to go look for four-leaf clovers in the back yard so that I might meet a leprechaun who would grant me wishes. Not that my relatives didn't attempt conversion- when I was 7, one of my Uncles even gave me some book on tape of "Stories from The Bible for Children"- which I actually liked (the Old Testament part, anyway.)- but it was coincidentally at the same time that I was super fascinated with the stories of Greek gods and goddesses. They were basically the same jam as far as I was concerned. 

I guess I was a pretty swift kid.

Not knowing much about Christianity in America is sort of like someone not ever having seen an episode of Saved by The Bell. It's a whole cultural zeitgeist that I just really don't get and am not a part of. While I don't think (at all) that all Christians hate women- prejudice is just as much a form of magical thinking as anything else and I don't see how it's much different than thinking you have psychic powers- I think that when Christians do hate women, it comes from a deeper place than I can really comprehend.

I started thinking about this after the "Women as Livestock" bill passed in Georgia. That's the one where women are going to be forced to carry stillborn fetuses to term (because, um, according to Rep. Terry Englund, if cows and pigs do it, women should have to as well). The whole thing was pretty jarring to me, because, I mean, not only is it cruel, but it also seems entirely pointless. I mean, even if you're against abortion... why would you want someone to carry a stillborn fetus to term? What good does that do anyone? I spent a lot of time thinking about it, because the hardest truth about people is that no one ever thinks they're being the bad guy. And then I realized- it wasn't about the fetus... it was about righteously punishing the women. For being women.

This may sound like I'm exaggerating. And I'm not saying this is a viewpoint all Christians ascribe to- from what I can tell for the most part, everyone just sort of makes their own version of religion anyway- and there are certainly Christian feminists. Given my relative ignorance of religion, I'm hesitant to go about speculating. Still, I have to think that if you really believed that we'd all be immortal beings prancing around in paradise right now were it not for some broad fucking shit up by eating an apple, if you really believed that the painful childbirth was the price women were supposed to pay for this, then maybe you'd have a bit of a chip on your shoulder too. Maybe you'd be mad that women were trying to avoid "justice." 

"To the woman he said, I will greatly multiply your sorrow and your conception; in sorrow you shall bring forth children; and your desire shall be to your husband, and he shall rule over you."

From what I can tell, women are the Big Bad of the Bible. You've got one over here cutting some dude's magical strength giving hair, another dancing around with scarves ordering a holy man's head on a platter, whatever it was that Jezebel did (I feel like it involved wearing make-up?), some other chicks getting their dad blitzed and then raping him, that dude's wife turning around and then getting herself turned into a pillar of salt. There are female demons, but all the angels are men. It seems there are a lot of stories about women using their sexuality to destroy and manipulate men somehow. A woman's sexuality is fine when it's a thing controlled by men- for instance if you want to offer your daughters up to the townfolk for rape, or have your wive's handmaid bear your child, or magically rape a virgin so that she can give birth to the savior of humanity. That's all well and good, and you are a wonderful and holy man. The problems arise when women take matters into their own hands. 

It's not something entirely specific to Christianity. After all, in Greek Mythology it was also a woman who unleashed all the badness in the world. But no one grows up thinking that story is true. I feel like growing up with these stories, with this mindset, must have a kind of an effect on a person. Because I think that when they imagine a teenager being pregnant out of wedlock, they don't see someone in an unfortunate circumstance. They see her as a vixen who used her evil sexuality to seduce a poor defenseless man and is thus being rightfully punished by god. To try to avoid that punishment is an affront to god himself. 

I could be wrong here, and I'm sure there are other factors at work. I'm not a mind reader so maybe Rep. Englund and everyone else freaking the hell out over women making choices these days have other reasons for being so fucked up. But this is at least a possibility.

Limbaugh: Why We Are Just Getting To This Now

It's been a while since I posted in this blog. It was mostly abandoned due to a weird stalking incident and then I never really got back to it since I've been slightly more busy with this one. Nevertheless.

The first bumper sticker I ever had was a "Flush Rush" sticker from NOW that I proudly placed on my 7th grade binder. I've been appalled by the man since he first appeared on the airwaves. I actually got into a giant screaming fight with my entire World History class about it, which ended with me screaming "What the hell? You can't hate immigrants! You're freaking Italian! We can't hate immigrants! We *are* immigrants!" at one kid and being sent to the office. For god knows how long now, he's been spewing horrid, racist, sexist bile all over the radio airwaves. I am willing to bet that every five seconds he says something that, by all rights, we should have tried to take him down for. So, you gotta wonder- why are we just getting to this now?

I saw a comment, somewhere, in which someone pointed out that he's been saying vile racist things about Obama and his family for the past four years- asking why we're only trying to destroy him now that he's attacking a white woman going to a fancy college. Good fucking point. And one I would vehemently agree with, normally. Except that- well, this is hardly the first time he's done it. Dude coined the word "feminazis", referred to Chelsea Clinton- then a teenager- as "The White House Dog" throughout the Clinton years, and has pretty much never spoken a word about women that would not easily be classified as vile and disgusting. We have always hated him, we have always been appalled by him- and we were certainly just as horrified by his racist statements as his chauvinistic ones. However, I think that we sorta just now realized that we could actually take him on and win.

Do you know who Anita Bryant is? A lot of people don't. Normally, I get all befuddled when people are unfamiliar with certain things- like the time four people in one day didn't know who Carole King  was, and last night when I couldn't handle the fact that this guy had never heard the term "Gesundheit" before. But in this case, it's actually pretty great thing. Anita Bryant was a former pageant girl who was trying to make a name for herself as a singer of terrible songs like "Paper Roses", which was later covered by Marie Osmond. She also *really* hated gay people, and went around saying that because they couldn't reproduce on their own, that they would be coming to a town near you to recruit your otherwise heterosexual children. Because that's how human sexuality works. It's a lot like the ROTC, but with far superior parades. And glitter! She led a campaign ("Save Our Children") in Florida against a recent county ordinance that banned discrimination in housing, employment and public accommodation based on sexual orientation. She said lovely things like this:

"If gays are granted rights, next we'll have to give rights to prostitutes and to people who sleep with St. Bernards and to nail biters"

Which clearly is true. I mean, now, it's totally legal to both be gay AND ruin your manicure. It is still not legal to have sex with a St. Bernard. Except in Alabama, Colorado, Connecticut, Georgia, Hawaii, Kansas, Kentucky, Montana, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, Ohio, Texas, Vermont, West Virginia and Wyoming- where there are not, in fact, any laws against it at all.

I digress! Anyway, Ms. Bryant was also the spokesperson for Florida Orange Juice.  As a result, there was a massive boycott of orange juice and public condemnation of Bryant herself. And now she couldn't even get a gig at a D.A.R. variety show if she wanted.

When I first started becoming politically active, my mother kept telling me that we were doing things wrong. She had two pieces of advice:

1. If you're going to protest, don't look like hobos. Dress like Catholic school girls. Wear sweatervests. If people turn on the TV and see the police beating the crap out of a bunch of radicals, they don't give a shit. They think you deserve it. They see them beating up Suzy Creamcheese, it's a whole different story.

2. BOYCOTT BOYCOTT BOYCOTT. For years, she has been telling me that boycotts and strikes are the only things that have ever really worked. "You all don't know how to give things up. I loved orange juice. I loved grapes! But I was happy to give them up to make something actually happen. They don't give a shit about you walking around with a sign. They care about money."

And she's right. As usual. I can't tell you how freaking annoying it is to have a mother who is right about everything always. For some reason (like a lot of the things she's been irritatingly right about), even for me, this took a while to sink in. Sure. I didn't buy Coke products because of the School of The Americas, and I stick to fair trade coffee and chocolate. Mostly. I actually feel really guilty right now because there's a canister of Nestle hot chocolate in my cabinet. None of that, however, does much good when the boycotts aren't all that organized or publicized. Even I didn't realize how much better they worked than all the protests and situationist tactics we'd been trying for years. We forgot the lessons we learned from the Anita Bryant incident, from the lunch counter boycotts, from the grape boycott and more.

I think, truly, that what did it for me, and for lots of other people out there, was the success of the campaign against Susan G. Komen dropping Planned Parenthood. Because, for all my years of beating the drum, that was one of the few things I'd ever seen really work. It worked! We won! We actually won! We went after the money, and we won. In the 15 years I've been politically active, I have really never seen anything we've done actually work. Petitions, guerrilla theater, marching on Washington- none of that ever actually did anything. We still haven't freed Tibet- or Mumia- or Leonard Peltier- School of the America's still exists and sure, the war in Iraq is technically over, but it's not like it had anything to do with an especially awesome chant we came up with or anything. We've seen 90% of our causes wither away and die, and for a while, it all just seemed a little futile. The campaign against Komen helped us realize a very valuable thing- we're not going to win with heartfelt pleas, rational arguments and clever bumper stickers. We will win by getting them where they live. We will get them in their wallets.

We've been emboldened. And that's awesome. We're not going after Rush because this is the first time we've been disgusted by him. We're going after him because we finally figured out how to do it correctly. And I really hope that in 30 years, no one will know who they hell he is either.

A Letter to Christians

Dear Evangelical Christians*-

When I was 8 years old, I asked my mother what our religion was, and her reply was simply "our religion is that you don't get in anybody's face". This small statement has always made sense to me, which is why I do not tend to get very Richard Dawkinsy about my atheism/skepticism. For instance, I am not going to tell my 80 year old grandmother that a miracle of St. Anthony is not the reason she found some lost item. I am not going to tell someone whose mother just died that she's not up there in heaven or whatever waiting for them. That feels gross and wrong to me. I would never deliberately hurt someone just to further my own belief system. I don't seek to change anyone's mind or personal beliefs, and am very much in the "whatever gets you through the day" camp.

It would be kind of you to give the same sort of consideration.

It's hard for me to understand why you feel it is important to insist that people who are not followers of your religion abide by the rules of your religion. If you want to believe that the earth is 6,000 years old, I am totally fine with that. That is your religious belief, not mine. You personally believing that doesn't hurt me, but it is, nonetheless, a religious belief. One which you have no right to try and sail past the rest of us as being, in any way, grounded in science. You do not have the right to insist that schools teach this to children not of your faith. You may take your own children aside and say "Yes, this is what school is teaching you, but let me tell you about what I believe." and then give them the proper resources to research it for themselves. You may even request that they not be present for that particular lesson. You may also enroll your children in parochial schools that will not teach evolution. You may homeschool them. You may not, however, demand that children not of your faith be taught the tenets of your faith in public schools. It is apparent to me, and to all other non-Christians, that the point of this is not to ensure your own children's continued belief in Creationism, but to proselytize to non-Evangelical Christian children. School is not the time for that- it is not a science teacher's job to indoctrinate children whom you do not know with your personal beliefs. If you wish to proselytize, I suggest you stand on a street corner, or go door to door as the Mormons and the Jehovah's Witnesses do.

We get it. Same-sex marriage is against your religion. La-di-dah. No one- literally, not one person in the whole country- is going to demand that your church marry a gay couple, or that you marry a person of the same sex. In fact, no one is demanding that your church marry anyone that is not a congregant of your church. Your issue with same-sex marriage is a religious one- and I am not going to tell you that you cannot believe that. I will, however note, that if your marriage could in any way be threatened by same-sex marriage, then obviously you've got more problems than that. Yes, for some people, marriage is a religious institution. Not so for others. I am an atheist, and I am perfectly free to get married should I choose to do so. Non-Christians get married pretty much all the time. If you do not believe in gay marriage, don't have one. You are free to not associate with gay people, just as they are free to not associate with you. You are free to disagree with people, but you do not have the authority to enforce your personal religious beliefs on those that do not share them. This is the equivilent of Jewish people trying to demand that non-Jewish people keep kosher, or of the Amish insisting we all give up buttons and electricity, or Jehovah's Witnesses trying to pass laws against blood transfusions or national holidays. Yes, you are the majority in this country, but that does not give you any more right than anyone else to insist that others follow your religion. I don't want to be a Christian anymore than you want to be a Scientologist.

The same goes for abortion. Over 75% of all abortions are had by women who identify as some kind of Christian. You deal with your own shit/glass houses first and then come talk to us. It is, once again, your religious belief that abortion is wrong. I could care less if you have whittled your anti-murdering commandment down to where it actually only applies to fetuses (as it seems most of you are in favor of war and the death penalty but opposed to gun control), or that you really don't seem to care too much about taking care of children once they exit the womb. That is not my business. My body, however, is my business. If you do not believe in abortion, then I suggest you don't have one.

Regarding environmental issues. I just read a thing about how some Christians in Florida were deeply upset over the government issuing some protection to the manatees. Why this is any kind of big deal really confounds me. Like, really, I get the whole thing about how god gave you dominion over the plants and animals, but is it really that big of a deal to maybe not drive a motorboat over where some endangered animals are living? Is it really going to decrease your quality of life in any way? Manatees are pretty cool. They've never done anything to you. I mean, even if the earth is just god's present to you... generally when people give you gifts, they like you to take care of them. For instance, if I gave you a lovely brooch for your birthday and you took and smashed it, I would find that to be a little insulting. While you may be sure that the apocolypse is nigh, the rest of us plan to be here for a while, so we'd like to take care of things. I promise you, should your god exist, he or she is not really going to be all that offended by your neighborhood recycling program.

As far as the argument that this is supposedly a "Christian Nation" goes- please note that we do not have any established religion. Whether or not the founders of our country were personally Christian or not (most of them were "Deists," but whatevs.) does not even matter (I mean, the founders of Greece believed in Zeus- you do not see modern day Greeks going around believing in Zeus simply because that's what people believed when the country was founded). None of them were saints. What they would personally feel about gay marriage, abortion, evolution, prayer in schools, etc. is about as freaking relevent as how they would feel about women having voting rights, a black man being president, the internet, or processed cheese. They are dead. They were also human beings- human beings with flaws, differing ideas, and totally weird fashion sense. Neither you or I can say what they would have said about our present culture. They were at least smart enough to know that, which is why they made the constitution a living document that was meant to change with the times. We are not living in colonial times, as evidenced by the fact that none of us are wearing powdered wigs. We are not living in Mayberry. In fact, no one in the 1950's was living in Mayberry- it was a fictional town filled with fictional people. You have about as much of a chance of living in Mayberry as you do living in Narnia or Oz.

Everyone has the right to an idea about what their own ideal world would look like. Unfortunately, odds are that your ideal society probably doesn't match up with mine, or with the person sitting next to you on the bus. So all of us have to make some kind of compromise in order to live together, and understand that someone else's beliefs don't diminish or take away from our own. The best we can all do is to be our own ideal person and act in accordance with our own personal ideals, values and morals. And just not get in anyone's face.

Sincerely,

Miss Robyn Pennacchia


*I specify Evangelical Christians, because I just don't personally see many individual Catholics or most Mainline Protestant sects going around trying to force people to convert, or to adhere to their faith regardless of whether or not they believe in it. Also, they tend to not be so opposed to evolution. Yes, the Catholic Church just as weird about abortion and gay rights as evangelicals are, and it's done many things that I find absolutely abhorrent. Still, on the whole, as individuals, they're usually a lot less scary/intimidating for me to talk to, and- in my personal experience- a bit more openminded and aware of the fact that not everyone believes what they do. Oh, I do also recognize that there are plenty of born-again and evangelical Christians who do not oppose gay rights, or women's rights, believe in teaching Creationism in schools, or desire to drive motorboats over manatees for funsies. This is just for the ones that do.

These People Are Not Going To Be Your Friends

Looks like we're all blogging and shit again. ANYWAY... So, I read an article yesterday about how apparently kids are getting plastic surgery (like getting their ears pinned back and such) to deter bullying.

Huh. Now that is some shit.

As someone who went through some pretty serious bullying shit, one lesson I learned early on is that there is not a damn thing you can do to make those people like you, and hell, who gives a shit if they like you anyway, because those people are assholes. If it's not one thing, it's another- if you get surgery to pin your ears back, they'll make fun of you for having gotten the surgery. They will corner you on the playground and berate you for having worn bellbottoms despite the fact that you were not, in fact, wearing bellbottoms. They will simultaneously accuse you of being a whore (in a heterosexual way) and a lesbian. There's no logic to any of it. I always sort of figured that, given this fact, I might as well go ahead and be myself, and dress the way I wanted and say whatever the hell I wanted. Weirdly, it was a kind of freedom. I saw other kids who were targets continually try everything humanly possible to fit in, and I never saw that work once. I remember constantly thinking "Why are you doing this? These people are not going to be your damn friends! They're not even their own friends- they're horrible to eachother!"

Nothing ever changes, and I'm gonna make a crazy leap here and say that this is the problem with the whole political situation right now. Because the people that we have in power who are supposed to be on the Left are the same kids who thought that everything would be ok if they just got their ears pinned back.

Look at what's happening. Obama kept the Bush tax cuts, floated out a healthcare plan that was written by the damned insurance companies, increased taxes on the working poor, cut assistance to the poor, and started another war. How is he all that different from Bush? Huh? And yet, the people on the right are still screaming that he's a socialist and totally not a US Citizen. Now, if he had actually implemented single payer healthcare, or gotten rid of the Bush tax cuts, or boosted programs to help the needy, or, I don't know, do something, anything that the people who voted for him wanted, at least half of the country would be happy. But no. And now no one is happy. Except for the people who are pretending to be happy because if they don't, the sky will fall and Michele Bachmann will be the next president.

Back to the schoolyard. One way for kids who got picked on to combat bullying was to try to be bullies themselves. They'd turn around and pick on kids who were lower on the rung than they were, hoping it would get them the respect of the cool kids. Like, "Look at me, I hate this one too! We have that in common, you and I! Please like me, or at least leave me alone now.". See, the thing about me is that a lot of the reason I was a target was because I was so insistant about standing up for other kids who were picked on. I was on my own little crusade. A lot of the time, these kids would later turn around and pick on me in order to get in with the bullies, and it would really hurt my heart. Not because I felt they owed me anything, but because they felt they had to give in in order to survive and I thought that was sad.

Back to now. Ralph Nader. I'm going on a bit of a tangent here, I realize, maybe. But it's amazing to me how quickly and completely "the left" turned on Nader, despite the fact that it's been proven again and again that he had absolutely nothing to do with the turnout of the 2000 election. Now, obviously I am not comparing my 8 year old self to Ralph Nader, but it's the same tactic nonetheless. Demonizing Nader was an easy way to get people to shut up and stop asking for too much. "Look at what happens when you ask for too much! You get Bush! Now shut up and be happy with the few crumbs we're going to pretend to throw you, while doing all the same shit the Republicans do." Same thing, I think, with Michael Moore. With women and feminism. With the general public and unions. With people who say "I'm pro-choice, but abortion shouldn't be used as birth control" (?!?!?), or people who care about the poor but are still willing to believe in Ronald Reagan's "Welfare Queen" fallacy, or who fall for other dimwitted strawman arguments.

The fact is, as we've seen the last couple of months, the people in power on the right are absolutely willing to fight for all the shockingly horrible and ridiculous things they want. The Democrats, when they were in charge, acted as though they thought that if they capitulated in most areas, and left things alone for the most part, that the Republicans would be willing to return the favor. Which we can clearly see is not the case. You can pin your ears back all you like, people are still going to fuck with you. They will always find something else wrong with you, I promise you that much. The fact is, you can't win by trying to play for the other team, and the arguments for what you're willing to settle for are never going to be as strong as the arguments for what you want.

Coupleshop

So, today, like so many days before, a totally weird couple came into my store. Sorta- the dude, actually, was hilarious, like, truly, very quick and very funny. His girlfriend, however, ignored him entirely aside from quietely admonishing him for touching books and warning him to "not annoy the salesgirls."

"He's fine," I said, realizing that I'd said the exact same thing to mothers about their children and to dog owners about their dogs. I half expected her to exclaim "Gentle Hands! Gentle Hands! Let's use our Gentle Hands!" like this one mom said to her kid one time. So that was weird. I of course started thinking about the other weird couples I've seen in my time on the floor... and I tried to think of one time it wasn't weird or awkward in some way. I could not.

Sometimes it's the girls that you think are there shopping with their dads... and then they start making out with the gross bullfrog you thought was their dad at the counter while you're ringing them up. That's awkward. Also, it is enough to forever erase that whole idea you had in the back of your head that you might say someday "Fuck it, I'm getting me a sugar daddy!" because man, man.... so not worth it.

Sometimes it's the body shaming boyfriend who will actually say things like "Oh, that's too short for you, you have bad legs" and criticize everything the girl puts on and in those instances it is difficult to control the slapping impulse, nevermind the look on your face. You imagine for a second having some Julia Sugarbaker type outburst where you call the dude out on being a giant d-bag and the lady dumps him right then and there. But instead you plaintively tell her she looks lovely and try to use your facial muscles to signal to her that this guy is terrible and that she probably deserves better. It does not work. And then you feel even weirder about the whole situation when she apologizes for his behavior afterwards because she could tell how uncomfortable you were. "Don't apologize to me," you think, "just run."

Sometimes it's the girl whose boyfriend or husband isn't there, but who puts something on hold until she can show it to him for his approval, or, even more weirdly, sends him a picture text of the dress. Can you just imagine? Because I picture some dude watching football with his friends or whatever, getting a picture of a dress on his phone and being either embarassed or confused. I mean, that has to be weird, right?

These are fairly extreme situations, granted. But I seriously cannot remember any instance in which a lady has brought her significant other in the store and it has been in any way normal or not awkward. The least weird are the dudes who just sit on the couch and flip through magazines, and even that is awkward because you feel like they're having a bad time. And then there's the whole thing where you want to talk to them and include them, but not too much because you don't want the girl to think that you're coming onto them. It's always weird.

I have never dated anyone who has had the balls to tell me what to wear, or, more accurately, has really been any kind of invested in my sartorial choices. I think mostly they figure I know how to dress myself given that I work in fashion. I have never actually taken a dude with me when I have gone shopping for myself and cannot imagine a future where that might occur. I would highly reccomend that others do the same. If only because it really magnifies whatever weirdness you've got going on in your relationship and you really don't need to be sharing any of that with a shopgirl.

I Have Some Things About Things

I have a lot of "things." I wouldn't necessarily classify them as phobias, because if you sat me up on the Maury stage and chased me down with them, I probably wouldn't start screaming and crying hysterically or anything like that. I would probably just feel awkward. I was just discussing my "things" with the guy at Atomix who also has "things," and our friend who has a genuine phobia of snakes.

I have a thing about Nazis. Which, you know, duh, everyone has a thing about Nazis, right? That's pretty normal. But seriously, this one time, at work, I was helping an Argentinian woman shop, found her a dress, blah blah blah... but then she handed me her credit card to pay and her last name was Eichmann. Which of course caused me to shake uncontrollably while ringing her up and then subsequently run to the bathroom to vomit and sob. Because it was really all too possible that I had just helped Nazi spawn purchase a cocktail dress. What kind of a situation is that to be in? Could I even have reasonably said "I'm sorry, I cannot sell you this dress because it is entirely probable that you are related to Adolph Eichmann (who by the way, hid out in Argentina for years before he was caught) and that just makes me feel physically ill?" Not really. That would be inappropriate.

This also manifests itself in the way that children that happen to be blonde twins sort of freak me out. It's terrible, I know. They just make me feel a little ill. Especially if they are in matching outfits. I like children in glasses. I like children with floppy hair. I do not like little boys with white blonde crew cuts and find them unfriendly looking.

I also have a thing about needles- but not so much the part that you get stuck with as the part where you can see your blood or whatever they're injecting you with in body of the needle. That's the part that makes me sick. I really feel importantly about my insides remaining intact.

Speaking of my insides, I prefer to think that I am solid. I never made it through a whole biology class on the subject of the digestive system without wanting to die. All I have to hear is "the saliva begins to break down the food" and I want to jump out of my body. I hate the idea of organs.

I am not afraid of the dentist, exactly. I am more afraid of dental hygienists. Because they're always so perky and trying to make me talk while they have sharp objects in my mouth. Also, all the dental hygienists at my old dentists office were named Judy, and that made me really uncomfortable for some reason. It seemed cultish.

Food is a big, big problem for me. I am horrified by most of it. I do not like food that masquerades as food it is not. I am perfectly happy to eat edamame or soy nuts- I do not want to eat soy that is pretending to be a hot dog. If I do not want to eat meat, I will happily eat regular, non-lying vegetables. I also do not like most white foods. I am a food racist. I have never eaten Wonderbread, sour cream, cottage cheese, or straight up mayonnaise (I will eat it in the form of a tuna fish sandwich or aioli). I will only eat tuna fish sandwiches that I make myself. I will only consume milk as part of a cereal or coffee type situation, and even then, if it has been in my fridge for more than three days I will throw it out. I fear food getting old. I do not want food to make me sick. I do not want to ever accidentally eat something that has gone bad. I will not eat food, such as cottage cheese, that has gone bad on purpose. I do not care how much you extoll the glory of cheese curds, I do not want you to take me on a trip to Wisconsin (wherever that is) to consume them. I will not eat them because they are called curds and that is gross. There are probably spiders in them, because I have heard via nursery rhymes that they are a thing spiders enjoy. I will also not be eating whey.

I will not drink beer because I believe I can taste the barley and somehow that seems wrong to me.

I am not exactly claustrophobic. I just fear not being able to leave a place. I cannot go to the Metro because they do not allow you to leave and then come back- and you probably think this has to do with smoking, but it doesn't, really. I can bring my fake indoor cigarette if I like. I just do not like the idea of being trapped anywhere. I like to be able to come and go as I please.

I hate dolls. I don't want to be around them and their dead, dead eyes. When I was a kid, I never played with dolls, as I preferred talking to people with things to say, not things that went around looking like people but were not. One time, back when I was young and worked in the mall, there was this weird "make your own baby doll" kiosk, with all these heads and arms and things lined up and it was very disturbing. I am horrified by kids who get the American Girl dolls that look like them and then wear matching outfits with said doll. It's just wrong. Precious Moments figurines are the worst, as not only are they terrifying looking, but I find them to be smug.

I also loathe birds. I feel like birds and I are at odds as to whether they should peck my eyes out and leave me blind and bloody. I do not want them to flap their wings against my skin. I do not want to find their spare parts in my alley. I do not want to be Tippi Hedren.

I hate cotton balls. They make a very disturbing noise, and also when you take your nail polish off with them they get all stringy and stick to your nails and it's gross.

I hate voicemail. Because I can look at my phone and tell that you called and do not need you to leave a message telling me so. I will call you back.

I immediately dislike people the moment they tell me they are sensitive. Sensitive people make terrible friends, and I would vastly prefer that they just come out and say "I find my problems to be more important than yours or anyone else's." Because that is basically true.

I think it's creepy when dudes talk about how they like girls who are crazy. It makes my skin crawl, and there is something about the fetishization of mental disorders that I am altogether uncomfortable with. I find it sleazy and not in a good way. They say it's because "crazy girls are better in bed" and I am always suspicious of that because most of the chicks I know with serious mental problems like to talk to me about how they cry after sex- and personally, I would find that awkward. Personally, I think it's because said dudes are basically terrible and you would *have* to be crazy to date them. I think that what they're really after is poor judgement. I also think that men like to blame things going wrong on women being "crazy." And, you know, call *me* crazy, but there is not a lot about basically saying "I prefer my women mentally incapacitated" that I don't find terrible.

I don't like people to tell me about how they saw a ghost one time. It's really, really uncomfortable because I do not believe in them, but at the same time do not want to accuse people of lying or being delusional.

I do not want to be in rural areas. If I am going to be murdered, I would prefer it be in the city where the serial killer attacking me would be on a time crunch and would just like, shoot me in the head or something. In rural areas, they have cellars and lots of space between houses, and thus more room for a long drawn out murder. I have to think about these things, you know.

So, yes- my life is a whirlwhind of neuroses. Offensive neuroses, many of them. I realize this, and I am working on it. So if you love birds, or if you are very sensitive, or have blonde twins, or if you think my fear of cottage cheese is stupid, I apologize and I promise you I am working on it.

A Special Place in Hell

Never trust a girl that wants to get in with the boys. Who tells you when she meets you that she’s never friends with girls. Who tells she likes to hang out with guys because they’re “low drama“. Who says that she thinks women are shallow. Who says she likes drinking and sports and crude jokes and not make-up and dresses and gossip. Says she thinks all feminists are whiny, and that there’s no reason for any of that shit anymore. Look at me, she says, I’m one of the boys and they treat me as such.

Never trust a woman who wants to get in with the men. Because she will happily push you down a flight of stairs to get to any of them. If you tell her that any man she has met in passing has assaulted you or anyone you know, if you say that this or any man has harassed you or anyone you know, has mistreated you or anyone you know, she will quickly inform you that she does not like gossip, does not like it when people talk shit. She will call you a whore/slut/bitch/tease behind your back when you leave, her eyes darting for approval. Should she see something with her own eyes, she will tell herself that woman deserved it, brought it upon herself. That shit doesn’t happen to you when you’re in with the guys.

Never trust a girl who wants to get in with the boys. She never learned to be a friend, never wanted to be anyone’s friend, least of all the men.

OMG Sharktopus!

Can a Roger Corman movie starring a half shark, half octopus (and Eric Roberts!) be anything but awesome? I should say not. I'm way excited to see it- especially because.... hear that freakin' awesome theme song going on in the background there? THAT IS MY FRIEND'S BAND. The Cheetah Whores! YAY!



Therese is way more awesome than most people, she will tell you the future and rock your face (she won't drive though... so you're SOL if you get pulled over and your friend who is driving does not have a valid license and you are way the hell too drunk to drive). She won't judge you too much when you almost cry from excitement over having the same shoes as Jello Biafra, and she will also be the only one who believes you at first when you say your mutual friend is, in fact, a sociopath. She plays lap steel guitar, and her sister Lizz- whom I fondly remember having dressed up as Tom Cruise from Risky Business one year for Halloween- does the vocals. Their Uncle is actually directing the film, which is also a thing that is bad ass. Freak out over this song and movie as much as possible, because I'm hoping they'll come to Chicago on tour!

Go Sharktopus! Go friends!

Letter to a Craigslist Nice Guy (TM)

I have a habit of looking on Craigslist for ads from hilariously terrible people in order to post them on my friends' walls and declare them as their new boyfriend/girlfriend. Because I have a full and meaningful life, of course. Anyway, whilst trolling the "misc romance" section- always the most... special, I found THIS special fella. A real, honest to goodness "Nice Guy (TM)."

I sent him the following letter:

"The World Does Not Owe You Pussy, My Friend"

Dear Nice Guy (TM),

I am sure you think you're really nice, or that you were at some point. Sadly, dear, you are mistaken. There is nothing "nice" about pretending to be someone's platonic friend and then being angry and bitter because they don't fuck you. That's dishonest, and frankly, pretty shitty. If you like someone, you tell them. You don't let them go on thinking you're some great friend when you have ulterior motives.

Sure- I get it. You've seen a thousand movies and television shows featuring gross looking, carfone-ish men with supermodel/rocket scientist girlfriends and wives. That's been going on since The Honeymooners, and maybe, doll, you're not swift enough to get that it's not real life and that no, you are not personally entitled to your very own supermodel/rocket scientist girlfriend. The world doesn't owe you that. The world does not owe you pussy.

My pussy is not something that can be purchased with a dowry of a conversation and a thoughtful Christmas present. I am free- unbelievably- to fuck whomever I choose. I do not have to sleep with someone I am not attracted to or interested in. I do not have to date them, I do not have to marry them. I am not required to "reciprocate emotional intimacy with physical intimacy." I do not have to tear my clothes off and scream "do me!" every time someone who is supposed to be my friend acts like one.

Everyone gets crushes, asshole. And the majority of the time they're not going to work out. So what? The difference is, that as we live in a patriarchical society, when it doesn't work out for you, you have the privilege of blaming the woman for being "shallow."When it doesn't work out for a woman, she's supposed to blame herself. I have never, in my life, heard a woman say "That guy is such a shallow asshole for not dating me. Who does he think he is?" Have you?

You aren't an asshole because you're bitter because the mean women hurt you. You're an asshole because you're a misogynist. Because you hated women to begin with, because you never really were being "nice."

I hope this will prevent you from shooting up an LA Fitness Center.

Sincerely,

Robyn

No Babies!

So.... It seems I'm finally getting to that point in life where some of my friends are actually having babies and getting married and crap. Which is weird, at least to me. Mostly because my average relationship lasts about a month (I'm a quick study, it doesn't take me that long to realize they're terrible), and because, well, taking care of Mr. Catface is responsibility enough for me at this point. Maturity wise, I am still at the point where, if someone tells me they are pregnant, my initial reaction is "Oh my god- what are you going to do about it???" rather than "Congratulations!"

Personally, I don't understand why anyone who wanted a child would have one personally when you can just order out. Lots of kids need to be adopted, and that doesn't require giving up smoking and drinking for a full nine months whilst some alien being feeds off of your predigested food. Call me crazy, but that seems pretty gross. The grossest thing of all, however, is this thing my friend Linday told me about one time- a thing so gross it caused us to shudder on and off for days, months, weeks afterwards:



Do you know what that is? That is a mucous plug. THAT happens in your vag while you are pregnant. How much does the idea of your lady parts having post-nasal drip make you want to die? How much does the fact that someone took a picture of their mucous plug make you want to die? How much does the fact that I actually copied and pasted that into my blog make you want to die? I bet it is a lot.

From wikipedia- "Normally during human pregnancy, the mucus is cloudy, clear, thick, and sticky. Toward the end of the pregnancy, when the cervix thins, some blood is released into the cervix which causes the mucus to become bloody. As the woman gets closer to labor, the mucus plug discharges as the cervix begins to dilate. The plug may come out as a plug, a lump, or simply as increased vaginal discharge over several days. The mucus may be tinged with brown, pink, or red blood, which is why the event is sometimes referred to as 'bloody show'"

No thank you!

If I were in charge of sex education, this would be the first thing I would talk about. There would be no pregnancy pacts in my classroom. Only girls who looked forward to a bright, mucous plug free future of getting to spend days off in their 20's fighting off a hangover, eating cold pizza, and writing about how gross pregnancy is, while wearing a tiara and hanging out with some awesome cats. That is what I am doing anyway, and it's pretty sweet. I would say "Having children only adds to the amount of laundry you have to put off doing!" I would show them pictures of tapeworms, and tell them that that is pretty much what pregnancy is, except that it does not make you thin. I would show them pictures of popped out belly buttons, which is the third grossest thing that can happen to you while pregnant. I would say "Do you know that it is possible that your lady parts will turn a different color afterwards? Because one time I heard that was a thing that could happen!" I would show them the movie Alien.

I know, I know. Talking about how gross having a baby is is a touchy subject. Much like the subject of talking about how hilarious artsy-ish/professionally done hipster couple photos are, as I found out the other day. Sheesh. I won't even touch that one because apparently it's something I am not deep enough to understand. Just like you'll probably tell me that the miracle of birth is some wonderful thing that I will someday want to experience. Neither of these things are true. Nevertheless, if I end up either getting pregnant, or taking a black and white picture with a gentleman caller up against a brick wall, holding cigarettes and looking chock full of ennui, I advise you to feel free to push me down the stairs. I'm just sayin'.

Mother's Day- A Day Late and Many Dollars Short

(One of my mother's favorite songs, decided whilst sitting at the kitchen table and listening to the entire Great Rock and Roll Swindle album with my best friend and I in 6th grade.)

You always hear stories about women freaking out over "becoming their mothers"- or at least, this is an old schtick in the same vein as women eating pints of Ben and Jerry's while crying, buying lots of shoes, and freaking out over never getting married. So, being that I'm not Cathy and this particular schema doesn't apply to me, you shouldn't be too surprised to hear that, hell, if I were to turn into my mother, that would be freaking awesome. My mom is pretty bad ass.

Here's a story: Back in elementary school, they had these "Santa's Workshops" during Christmas time and kids were taken down there one group at a time to go buy some crappy sweatshop made gifts for their parents and siblings. Whatever. Anyway, one year my mother got roped into volunteering. It was not long before I had all these kids coming up to me saying "Your mom is so awesome! She taught me how to shoplift!"

Now, let me explain. See, I went to a *really* classy school. Except not. See, at Santa's Sweatshop, the kids who didn't have any money with which to purchase tacky paperweights and compasses had to stand up against the wall while the other kids shopped. Nice, huh? Because that's not anything that could embarass the crap out of a 10 year old or anything. Anyway, my mother, horrified by the situation, goes up to the kids up against the wall and tells them that they're going to be in her group. She then takes them on a tour of Santa's Sweatshop, flamboyantly showing them how to shove the various knicknacks up their sleeves. After that, even the kids that had money pretended they didn't so they could be in her group and learn how to shoplift.

This has always been one of my favorite examples, among many, of "how my mother is." Because it's not just that she's funny and silly and a bit rebellious- it's that she has this innate sense of justice and a talent for making people feel special.

My friends were always way excited to see my mother when they came over to visit, which is something I was always so proud of. She wasn't the cookie baking mom, and she wasn't the "Cool Mom" who wanted to smoke pot with teenagers or anything (thank god). We all just sat at the kitchen table and talked about school, and friends, and boys and politics and other things with her. And she was hilarious, and she made people feel important, and worthwhile, and smart, and funny. Even now, when people are going through a rough patch, I always wish they could talk to her.

Another thing people are supposed to say a lot is that their parents don't understand them. I think I'm pretty easy to understand in general, but if there is one person that always "gets it," it's my mother.

One of her sayings, of which she has many, is that people love you for the way you make them feel about themselves- and she's living proof of that. In my life I've never known anyone else that people loved as exuberantly and automatically as they love her. People just want to be around her- my friends, people on planes, people at CVS, Mormon missionaries... It's an amazing quality, and one that I've always, admittedly, been a bit jealous of.

So, you know, even if it means developing a habit of walking around TJ Maxx for two hours, filling up a shopping carriage and then not buying anything, I couldn't ask for anything more awesome than to turn into my mother someday.