Yet another reason our Country’s Obsession with weight is a bad thing

Yesterday my sister’s father-in-law congratualated me on my weight loss. He was astonished! “wow! you can really tell you’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time we were here!”

I felt awkward, and said thank you.

What was I supposed to say to people i hardly know? People I only see a couple times a year (if that)? the truth?

I felt like screaming. If he knew why/how I lost the wait, would it be a congratulation? ]

I lost FSM only knows how much weight (I don’t own a scale). My diet secret is being so depressed that I don’t get out of bed even to eat, sometimes for days at a time. My exercise regime is climbing up tall things, contemplating taking the fastest route down, then reconsidering and taking the stairs.

The first time a peer told me I was pretty, was when I was 13. I had just come back from 2 weeks of the stomach flu and had lost about 15 pounds from not being able to eat.

not much has changed in 14 years. illness causes pain which renders me incapable of eating, but at least I’m SKINNY!

Published in: on November 1, 2010 at 9:53 pm  Comments (1)  
Tags: , , ,

I was going to tell him that I had hurt myself on Monday.

instead I cried into his shirt.

He went out to a gig while I stayed in to write my paper.

I was about to scrape my arm with a paper clip, but I heard the door open.

so no harm done.

(get it! ha ha ha! see I’m depressed and I’m losing self control about doing those things that get you put away. but the phrase “no harm done” is used in innocuous situations everyday! gawd I’m twisted)

Published in: on October 23, 2010 at 1:38 pm  Leave a Comment  

I’m not looking for it. It falls in my effin lap (pt.3)

disembodied sexy body parts

Just using “explore” on my google reader. our bodies are commodified for sexual arousal for het-dude nation. this is systemic, so I am not terribly surprised at seeing this. Misogynistic imagery and speech is so much a part of our lives, that we often overlook it.

but here it is.

and no. It does not make it okay because a woman thinks that are “cute” or what not.

Published in: on October 21, 2010 at 4:00 pm  Leave a Comment  

more of the same.

today I drank a jones soda. Pineapple Cream, to be exact. I was fidgiting with the aluminum (?) cap. and breaking off the the bits of it that were connected to hold the top over the lip. it produced small peices of metal with jagged edges.

I started poking my left hand with them. I decided to try it on my upper arm. and scratched myself. I pushed in. just a little at first, but then more. I didn’t actually want to cut my skin. I don’t want scars.

Scars are part of the documentation of your life. I don’t want to remember this. Yet I’m documenting it here. But i have to write about it, or I will do it instead.

It still stings now. I know I am breaking. I don’t know what to do.

Published in: on October 18, 2010 at 2:02 pm  Leave a Comment  

this is a fraction of what depression looks like

So I’ve been visualizing cutting myself today.

I hear that visualizing an activity activates the same part of the brain as actually doing the thing itself. if I can feel it without scars that is a good thing.

I’m not even sure I have the guts to cut myself. The logistics of the visualization are almost comical. the sharpest “knife” I have is on my mandolin veggie slicer. the others are dull and would tear the skin. it would hurt a lot more. And I don’t have any razor blades.

But the image of tryng to slice part of my upper arm or thigh with something like this:

well I wouldn’t want to cut straight down and slice of a layer of skin. I just want a line cut into me. so it would be pretty tricky anyway.

3 days ago I was manic. The world was perfect. the sky was perfect. my life was getting better, and anything was possible. It’s like being high for days at a time. but you only notice it when you are coming down. then you see how far you are going fall. It’s always worse after mania.

I keep trying to visualize and activate those brain cells. but I’ve never cut myself before. Maybe my brain doesn’t know how to activate them.

I keep thinking about getting out of this chair and just doing it. maybe it would help. I certainly couldn’t feel much worse.

Published in: on October 17, 2010 at 8:45 pm  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , , ,

I’m not looking for it. It falls in my effin lap (pt.2)

Ah google feed.

Again. I did not start my day trying to find sexist crap. Google shows recommended and popular items to me. This one was popular. Anyway. The above video is a parody of an advertisement for a peice of cloth that covers cleavage. The parody takes offence at this because (ZOMG!!!) The Dude Nation needs to have boners, and their only joy in these hard times is to stare at women. Women are only here for the benefit of men.

of course if women did have low cut shirts then they would be dirty whores and need to be more modest. so yay for the gray area of not winning.

I skimmed the comments until I was disgusted. It did not take long.

Published in: on August 29, 2010 at 10:26 am  Leave a Comment  
Tags: , , ,

really?

My parent are not “bad” people. And too some extent even recognize their privilege.  But at other times, they completely miss the boat, and get upset that I all them out on it.

Me: I hear it is a common white tendency to find “authentic” things
Mom: But everyone does that. blacks do it.
Me: (genuinly confused because blacks is the name of a beach due to the iron content of the sand) what? blacks?
Mom: you know they want “real” home cooking, real grits …
Me: oh you mean black people, not blacks.
Mom: what’s the difference
Me: well people like to be recognized as people, not as descriptors.
Mom: you know that changes every couple of years.
Me: well that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be respectful of what people want to be called
Mom: You know who I’m talking about, THOSE PEOPLE.  They like authenticity.

::Headdesk::

I gave up. I didn’t even make it to the sentence about how finding the authenticity of your own culture is different than being a tourist in someone else’s culture.

Published in: on July 6, 2010 at 3:21 pm  Comments (2)  
Tags: , , , ,

still not better

Depression is a funny thing. I’m going to leave that line because I just realized how ridiculous it is given the previous post.

In truth I mean it is a strange thing. When you are dealing with it, it is always there. I have good days. I feel almost better. I tell myself I’m just a little off. But it snaps back in a moment.

I was driving home listening to lady gaga on the radio and wiggling my shoulders in accordance with the command “just dance”. This is rare for me since usually I wiggle my shoulders to something like rage against the machine on the other radio station. But I was singing and moving and then as I pulled away from the stop light I had an urge to swerve into the car next to me. That I could hurt myself and escape.

But it is more twisted than that. My first thought was “geeze, if you’re going to have suicidal thoughts, at least think of ways that don’t hurt other people, depression is so rude.”

Does this happen so often now that I dismiss it? That I can make a bit of a crack about it? I keep thinking I’m getting better. But the apathy is there. The avoidance of life is there. The wanting to make myself throw up so I can get whatever bile that is in me out, is still there.

Goddammit. I lost my last job because of this. I couldn’t perform my duties in the time required. If this keeps up I may get kicked out of school, because I can’t get the grades I need.

I feel fine for the most part, but then something like that happens. Just to let me know I could snap at any minute.

Published in: on June 15, 2010 at 12:52 am  Leave a Comment  
Tags: ,

that’s funny!

Normally when I blog or generally talk about feminist things, the above is a sarcastic phrase used to indicate my dismay and precedes a description explaining, as gently as I can, why the joke was racist/sexist/homophobic/able-ist/etc.

But, this is not one of those cases. I want to talk about what is funny. That’s not true either, I want to talk about why I’m funny.

Shocking to believe, I am not a humorless feminist. In fact, I was the class clown, and now I’m the clown anywhere but class. (in a PhD program it is not recommended to crack jokes the whole time, but I digress)

I will retell stories in my head until I think they are funny enough to share, I make wise cracks when other people are speaking (so much so, I almost made the vita-mix sales man lose it with laughter when I was watching the demo and was standing near the front), and puns. Oh, how I love the puns. Other people don’t always agree, but trust me, they’re wrong, my puns are hilarious.

But people don’t notice. And by people, I mean what the patriarchy defines as people: men. Its not that they don’t get my jokes, they just forget I ever made them.

I can think of two reasons.

1. Men get told off by me when their shit is sexist, racist, etc. so they are associate me with killing THEIR fun at the expense of others.

2. “girls” aren’t funny.

This may be slowly changing, but in general womyn are seen as up tight, as adorable, as sperm receptacles. To make jokes, means you have agency, you are the one who is receiving attention for something other than what a nice looking object you are. AND worst of all, you have to be clever! You can be a little funny, but not as funny as a guy.

Well, Duh, I hear you cry.

What brought this up in my mind? It is related to how I met my first boyfriend. Why that came to mind, I have no idea. I was walking from the coffee cart to my office on campus, and I was thinking about those days gone by when I was in an improv comedy class. I was in high school, and I met my first boyfriend there. He was too old for me, and I was too young for him. When you are a high school student, age differences are bigger.

I thought he was so good looking, and he was younger than the last crush I had. Therefore, (I rationalized) it would be just fine. However, I did have to think about it. We were flirting for a while, and one night he drove me home and asked if we could date/be in a relationship/something. So I said I would call him the next day or so. (Should have been a warning when) he said, but you were flirting with me! As if that means I HAD to be in a relationship. Then he cited an example.

We were doing an exercise in class where we were speaking in unison and making sentences (groups of about 5 people). Sort of an oral Ouija Board. The teacher thought this man was leading the sentences, and we assured her he was not. She said, it must be that rich baritone voice.

Now if you’re a young woman in a patriarchal society, you want to marry well. Even then I didn’t want that, but I knew that it was true.

So of course I responded with near Mae West intonation: “I could use a rich baritone.” (nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more)

Not that this could not possibly be just a joke. It HAD to be for the benefit of a man (a real man not just an imaginary referent). It had to be flirting, or leading on, or something. It could have no reference to anything but how I felt about the man’s hot sexy sexiness.

It couldn’t, I don’t know, be a JOKE? Given how much people hurt others by saying “it’s just a joke” you’d think this would be given a pass. But, no, it was flirting, and If I didn’t go out with this man, I would be a dirty cock tease. right? Silly me, “girls” don’t make jokes. But my virginal lady bits were a flutter over his sexy goatee, and therefore did not notice the poisonous sentiment.

I can’t believe that it took me nearly ten years to notice that.

I’m not looking for it. It falls in my effin lap. (pt1)

I’m often told I “look for things to get angry about.” And I admit I look where some of these thing are highlighted, like feminist blogs, non-feminist blogs, twitter, google-reader feed, newspapers, television (well I don’t watch that, but it is where these things are), conversations with “liberal” friends, conversations with academics, conversation with fellow students, oh, and the rest of the world.

So today I have examples from twitter/liberal friends and my google reader.

First, recently on twitter one of the trending topics was #IHateWomenWho. I tweeted my dismay (with spaces and no hash mark describing the misogyny. ok, so far so good. But that is not what made my blood boil. I get a reply saying that if there were a similar post about men it would my misandry, and that wouldn’t be better, but it would be equal.

Because feminism is about equality even if it degrades all humans?  bah. also note there isn’t a similar trend. I’m sure people have applied the hash-mark to I hate men who. but would it have the vitriol as the remarks policing how much women should wear, what sluts they are, women who pretend not to be sluts? yeah. I think not. And there were not enough of them to be highlighted as the top 6 trends or what have you. and I know the reply is nothing new, but it came from someone I know. I don’t think I said anything controversial. its not like he responded to one of my more politically charged tweets. Really?

Plus it looks like one of my (other) friends is a junior MRA. I thought, at first, he was just coming to terms with coming out as a transvestite, but it is so full of bitterness. And he’s framing it as if he is a feminist. as if he is fighting against sexism. It’s NOT fair, he will(read has already) decry, that the dress code at a club does not allow men to wear sandals, but it allows women to.  So he HATES that sexism.  He also Hates that women get to look “pretty” (read policed every day about how fat they are, how much make-up they wear, clothing is to prudish, clothing is to revealing, just smile honey etc…)  Yeah, those poor men. I agree men should wear what they want, but saying you hate sexism, or a feminist is ridiculous if that is the only time you hate sexism. Just like sarah palin is a “feminist” because she likes title 9. (Nevermind that she is for forced pregnancy, and made women pay for their own rape kits, is against comprehensive sex ed…).

Never once has he commented on the sexism of advertising objectifying women, never once has he commented on the fact that a third of college women are sexually assaulted, never once has he commented about rape as a weapon of war in the Congo, never once has he picked up the torch for racism, or gay rights, or domestic abuse, the sexual salvery of undocumented women, or how men have been found not guilty of rape when they say, sure I kept going when she said no, but I stopped when she kicked me really hard.  He might agree these things are bad, but he only gets angry when he can’t be involved in a conversation with girls at a party, because they want to talk amongst themselves (he told me about this because I am a feminist and I would understand). this is the same thing as not letting women into conversations about healthcare, or letting them work in male fields, or into the philosophy department at college.  A conversation at a party.  Give me a break.  the whole point is that sexism is an opression that is institutionalized and systemic.  individual predjudice does not oppresion make.  Plus, the opressed class wanting to have a space where their voices are heard, and they can feel safe, is NOT the same at the opresser keeping others from participation as full citizens in society.

Anyhoo. Onto item three. It appeared in my google reader. The top item when I hit “explore.” It showed a blog which listed funny pie charts. some were more funny than others. the last one:

Pie chart "why women cry"

A pie chart in shades of pink. about 10% for "happiness" about 10% for "sadness" and 80% for "????"

(screen shot instead of link.  I’m not driving more traffic there) Um.  Yeah.  because women are emotional and cry for no reason.  Again.  see post title.  I was not looking for pie charts that reify stereotypes of irrational women or ask google to make my blood boil.  But don’t worry, I know, I’m sure it is a strange coincidence that I saw it and not indicative of culture at large.  I’m sure that the fact it was even made was not indicative of culture at large.

Bull effin shit.

One more thing. I’m not “not laughing” because I’m a humorless feminist. I’m “not laughing” because you are a douche.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.