I was watching LA Ink last night (don't judge me...) and a girl came into the shop wanting a tattoo of Rosie the Riveter... except "Can you, like, make her face skinnier? Make her prettier?" The girl basically wanted a sexy pin-up girl with a bandana on her head, flexing a muscle. Which is fine...but the girl was talking about this tat being a symbol of the strength of females in her life.
She used the term, "Girl Power."
I remember "girl power" as being something on obnoxious pink t-shirts when I was a little girl. The words were usually surrounded by something typically female, like flowers, and other shirts hanging near it said things like, "Girls Rule, Boys Drool." What this does to establish equality between the genders, or to empower women alone, I'm not sure. But I got to thinking about it after this girl on LA Ink kept using the phrase Girl Power. I thought, do you mean Feminism?
Maybe feminism is too scary a word for some people. Probably, because most people think it means they can't love men, or they have to be butch, or a myriad of other things that we all know too well. While some women have identified as feminists through cutting their hair and not sleeping with men, feminism is in, fact defined as a quest for equality between the sexes. And isn't that what we all want? What's so scary about that?
It's the reason no one in mainstream politics calls themselves a feminist, or even uses the word. We talk in code about "women's issues" or the "female vote" ...even Hillary, who has been so supported by feminists unwilling to vote for anyone else, merely to see a fellow sister in the presidency, doesn't use the word. Because it has become loaded and scary.
I think that's an example of why we need feminism more than ever. Those who don't want equality between the genders LOVE that we're afraid of the word, afraid of the movement, afraid to take action because we don't want the label. That keeps us deradicalized, decentralized, and silent. Perfect.
So what we have today, instead, is Girl Power. What ideology exists behind this phrase? Surely not dialogue about reproductive rights, the suffrage or equal pay. It is vague and void. It doesn't tell girls what their power is, or what power they don't have that they should.
Feminist theory and thought exists so women can talk about these oppressions. It exists so we might no longer be oppressed. Girl Power just doesn't cut it.
I guess the girl on LA Ink really did mean girl power, and not feminism. Making Rosie the Riveter skinnier and prettier... seeing beauty the way a man might see beauty rather than a woman, a FEMINIST, who might look at a woman like Rosie and see the beauty in her strength, her ability to have short hair and wear something besides a dress.
But, just as Rosie the Riveter served as a temporary propaganda poster during the war, feminism seems to have served an older generation, their wants and needs, and now the heart and soul of it is gone. It has been reduced to girl power.
When I saw Judy Shepherd (Matthew Shepherd's mother) speak about her son's murder and the current state of gay rights, she asked, Where all of my hippie friends? Where all of my student protesters? Where have you gone?
Where have you gone? The new generation doesn't understand the work you did for us because, well, you're not doing it anymore. Where are you?

We took Jake on his first long car trip this weekend. The only other time we've had him in a car was bringing him home when we adopted him. On the way back, he drooled more than any dog I have ever seen. But the trip wasn't that far, and once we got him out, he stopped. We laughed it off. Apparently he drools a little when he gets nervous.
A little turned into buckets during our three hours to Indy. It was, without any exaggeration, as if there was a faucet in his face that wouldn't turn off. We had his blanket under him, and there were good portion of the blanket that were saturated, soaked through, with drool. His little paws looked as if he'd been jumping in puddles. It was funny...and gross. I guess cars make him nervous yet, and it makes sense. Some of us humans sweat when we get nervous, and dogs "sweat" by panting. If this was what happened, Jake was one nervous dude.
Pictures will come later today when I get home. I can't describe it well enough to give you the full effect. Hilarious.
I'm starting to worry about our sanities, though. I have this voice that I do...that is supposed to be Jake. I think it is how Jake would speak, and more than once on our car ride, "Jake" and David and Mary-Margaret had coversations. They weren't long. Don't lock me up yet. But perhaps the two humans in Jake's life should be mindful of the trend, and to keep it in check.

The past week has been full of emotions. I don't know where to begin. Long story short, I have realized that my friend Chris was right last year when he told me that weddings bring out the worst in people. It will bring up old family drama, old agendas, and feelings get hurt all too quickly. The strange part is, none of it has to do with the point of the wedding, which is the two people gettting married. For example, with me, it has been about my mom's husband's children and now about my mom and her best friend. Go figure. The stories are too long and not interesting to anyone else, so that is all I'll say. Weddings are ridiculous.
Speaking of weddings, a big ol' slice of heteronormativity for ya, I started classes last week and discussions taking place in my classes touching on gender/sexuality have made thinking about my wedding really interesting. It's helped me to put it in perspective, helped me to define what getting married means to me, and has helped me to, essentially, raise the middle finger to any and all who are trying to tell me, and us, what being married is all about, what a wedding is supposed to mean, and how we are supposed to go about all of it. Why is marriage this one-size-fits-all model? Not just that it's held as this ultimate goal, or ultimate state of a relationship, but that within marriage, it has to be a certain way? Again, not even something as "controversial" as same-sex marriage, but within the context of my heterosexual marriage, I am still being told how to go about it. It doesn't stop with one man marrying one woman; the DOMA definition (grrrrr Clinton!) is not enough. I have heard the following statements since expressing the fact that I am getting married:
1* "No more going out with your male friends, just the two of you! Get it out of your system now!"
2* "Well, now wherever you go to grad school he has to go...or if he finds a job in a different city than your grad school, someone will have to compromise. Shouldn't you guys wait until you're older, more settled?"
3* "When are you guys having kids?"
4* "I can't believe you're getting married. Aren't you like...a feminist or something? Aren't you a queer community ally? Are you selling out?"

1* This implies that I just won't be able to keep myself from sleeping with any of my male friends, or that they aren't trustworthy, either. Couldn't this also be said of close female friends? You don't know anything about me, jerkface! :o) Not to mention that some married couples choose to have an open relationship. I don't know that I could do it, but others can and really enjoy it. Your definition of marriage is not everyone else's.
2* Well, that ship has sailed. We own a home together. We live together. We have a dog together. I don't need a legal document to keep me in the same city, the same household, as David. I choose to do that. We've already moved to Chicago together, chosen to stay in Chicago together, and look forward to being nomadic together in the future, if that is indeed what the future holds. As David says, "we're both set...career-wise, I mean. People eat and have sex in every city."
3* Never. And I think if Planned Parenthood really stood for a woman's right to choose, you wouldn't have to be of a certain age or be psychologically evaluated before having a tubal ligation. What if we change our minds? Then we do. But I don't see how that is any of your business and where you have room to judge if our minds will change or what our lives will be missing if they don't.
4* Yeah. I'm a feminist and I'm also a huge supporter of acceptance for all types of families. David and I are already a family, legally or not, and until we can be fully recognized as such without getting legally recognized as a married couple, I guess we'll have to buy into the system. Plus, one of the issues I work behind is marriage equality...if I think everyone should have the right to marry, doesn't that mean staunch hetero feminists as well? We are planning our wedding with our morals and beliefs in mind; for instance, I am not throwing a bouquet. The idea of having my single friends clamour to be the next one plucked from her miserable spinster life is not in any way cute, not even for a photo op. We aren't using any readings with gendered language. We want the legal recognition, so we're getting it...and using it, unashamedly, to throw a big party for our friends and fam...and to register for gifts. :o)

So those are my thoughts.
If you cared.
Which you most probably don't.

It's been a long time since I posted. I find that when I have the most to say, I don't say it. Maybe I know that if I write it down, I must deal with it, think about it.
David and I adopted a dog from the shelter this week and he is pretty wonderful. His name is Jake, but of course I call him Jakers, Jakey-poo, and Bat Boy (have you ever seen a pit bull's ears? Seriously). Last night David came back from taking The Bat for a walk and I was cleaning up. We had this little rhythm with what we were doing, and it was strange. We weren't tripping over one another or asking one another to do something; it was like we each new our role in the moment. It made me think about other people who spend a good part of their 20s in dorms. Answering to RAs, paying a lot of money to have a curfew... not being able to truly inhabit their living space. And I looked around me, at my kitchen, and me Swiffering the floor, and David making Jake sit for his treat, and I thought, wow. Look at the feminist being so domestic.
I've struggled a lot recently, especially, with what being a feminist means. I've struggled with my choices. I guess I can only compare it to the way other people struggle with being true Catholics or Christians or parents. It's an ongoing commitment and it's not easy. Sure, it's easy and natural to believe this is what you are, you know it's right and worth your trouble... but it's hard sometimes. And how does a feminist get married?! How do I stand in a white dress, which has been used to signify the way a woman "is" on her wedding day, and how do I do it while being a feminist?
I've answered these questions for myself... but it's a process.

Holiday Drama

I wasn't in the Christmas mood this year. Sure, I am always annoyed by the money I am expected to spend, the knowledge that I don't need anything yet have to come up with something to tell people to buy me... but this year it didn't feel like the holidays at all. I don't know if that means anything about growing up or moving on or changing. But I just didn't get it this year.
So Christmas night I got into a fight with my mother about some stupid stuff that I don't have time for. It's not a secret that I think her husband is an ignorant, pompous ass (and that is edited for your reading pleasure) but somehow they both assumed they would invite HIS family to MY wedding.
Yep.
Tell me if I'm nuts. But I didn't grow up with him or his family. By the time my mom remarried, I had been on my own for at least 6 months. I have met his kids once or twice each. We don't know one another. We aren't "family." My mom knows we are planning a small wedding. David and I are paying for it. I am not paying for the children of a man I don't like to eat. If I passed any of them on the street I wouldn't know them. If I have to meet people at my wedding, they probably shouldn't be there. We are inviting 100, expecting about 75. They don't make the cut.
Do you understand that? Or are David and I hateful and crazy?
So somehow, instead of just deferring to the people who are hosting the wedding, who are paying the wedding, who are planning the wedding, who are GETTING MARRIED, a confrontation had to result. Long story short, I am tired of dealing with the drama. So I left town with David that night and went home. He had to go home that night anyway because of his work schedule, and I decided to go along. Most of my friends I planned to see understood. When I'm upset I want to be with David and I want to be home. That's where I went.
And today my friend that I moved up here with moved back to Indy. I am so excited for her. She is starting her career, buying a home... but I can't help but feel that a chapter is gone, an era has ended. She started this adventure with me. Today she came by my place to drop off some stuff I had left at our old apartment. One of these things was our grocery cart. I remembered the first time we went grocery shopping together... we were so used to shopping in Indy where you buy everything and load up for trunk and back seats. Well, we forgot that we had no car and had to carry all of our stuff about ten blocks home. So we bought this old lady push cart that a lot of people use up here to haul stuff around. It was red and we named it Ruby. I have so many memories of us dragging that thing down State Street and then down Cullom Ave. In our busy lives sometimes the only times we had good conversation was while pushing that cart around. We struggled to lift up the steps of our first apartment building, struggled to keep the cat inside as we rolled into our second apartment, and today, it is sitting in my storage unit in the basement.
I know it's silly. But today the cart, and the fact that she didn't need it anymore, was sad. A definite shift has occurred, life has changed, and now Ruby is but shoved into our hall closet or teetering down Chicago streets, us laughing or discussing or complaining or comforting around it. And I guess I just realize that life is changing. I am here with David in our very own home and she is moving with her love to Indy to their very own home. My other friends are growing up too. And it's eery.

Pigeon Man

There are eccentric characters in every neighborhood of Chicago. Lincoln Square, the neighborhood I called home for over a year, had Joe, the Pigeon Man. He sat on the fire hydrant at the corner of Lawrence and Western and pigeons would flock to him. They sat on him, he fed them, he talked to them. There is a burned-out abandoned building there, next to the Walgreens, and when he wasn't around, the pigeons would line up in the windows and on the roof. When he came, they would swoop down to him.
I never saw him sitting there; maybe I'm always in too much of a hurry. I didn't use that intersection a whole lot, as I work south of the Square and he would sit on the north end. I have seen him the past two weekends though, waiting with me for the #49 Western bus. I have noticed him at the bus stop in the past; I noticed him because he was bent forward, had a walking stick, and wore all blue, like a janitor. He wore his watch stretched over his shirt sleeve.
Last Sunday, I was waiting for the bus after work. He was waiting there with me. Another man came up, and started talking to Joe. He seemed distant, like he didn't want to talk. But the man was asking him if he'd read the paper, and what he was going to do about the article. I was intrigued, but got no more information, even during the bus ride. Joe got off at Lawrence and Western, where I assume now he went to sit on that hydrant, as usual, and feed the pigeons. On the bus though, the man who had asked Joe about the article chastised him for not wearing a coat or hat. He said, "Joe's a wonderful person and I don't want him to get pneumonia or somethin'." I'm a whore for people watching, and the whole exchange was very interesting to watch.
So today, I do my usual read of the Chicago Tribune online and as I'm scanning the local headlines, I see "Lincoln Square Pigeon Man Hit by Van." I began reading it, because I lived in Lincoln Square for a while, still work there, and had no idea we had a Pigeon Man. When I saw the man's photo and read about him, I realized the man I had seen on the bus was this Pigeon Man and that he had been killed Tuesday when he was struck by a van.
I just remembered the other man on the bus worrying about Joe not having a hat or coat. Two days later, he gets hit by a van. It was just..strange. It reminded me that you never know, do you? I see this man on Sunday... I don't know anything about him. Then I read today that he is dead, and that he was this local legend. The article the other man was informing him about was discussing some local politicians trying to pass an ordinance that would fine people $1,000 for feeding pigeons. This mysterious bus ride I had Sunday...article, what are you going to do about, man dressed in blue janitor garb, the other man called him Joe, he had a bag of bread with him... it all comes together in this article about his death.
It makes me sad, I guess, because this man had this love for these creatures that the city is trying so hard to exterminate. It makes me sad that he died. It makes me sad that I just saw him, two days before his death, and I didn't know, he didn't know, none of us knew he was going to get hit by a van 48 hours later and die. That's the mystery, the eeriness, the unsettling thing about life. We don't know.
Tonight, there are candles at this fire hydrant. There are lonely birds on the Square. There is a girl at home, up too late, wondering about life and death and, to quote on of her favorite monologues, "...how amazing it all is." The characters of this city, like the Rastafarian who sits under the Berwyn red line station and sells incense. Like the Finger Lady on the Blue Line. Every neighborhood has one. I wonder who will take the place in Lincoln Square.

"I don't want a facebook wedding!"

When David and I decided to get married next summer, which I guess means that we are now engaged, David said, "I don't want a facebook wedding." He is hilarious and wise at the same time, which is one of many reasons I am marrying him.
He went on to say that it doesn't really matter to anyone else when and where we are getting married...if it does matter to anyone else, they will get an invitation in the mail with all the information they need. He told me how it annoyed him, the posting of pictures of the ring, as if that's what getting married is all about.
That's true. It's so true. This is why I love him.