Being Amber Rhea

3½ hours sleep…

…is not a good thing.

- Espcially when one has been sleep-deprived all week while one scrambles around trying to move to a new apartment at all hours of the night/morning.

-Especially when one has been way too busy (typo: busty) at work while one’s boss is out of town.

-Especially when one is constantly worrying about the situation with one’s dad, and, perhaps even moreso, one’s mom.

Especially when one is talking of oneself by constantly using “one.” ‘Cause that’s not annoying or anything. Oh, and is too lazy to make an unordered list.

Must shower and then go clean old apartment. Oh and pack up the shit that’s still there. Ugh.

Mysterious disappearing forms in Safari

I’m used to dealing with incorrect CSS rendering, lackluster AJAX support, memory leaks, and all the rest of it in IE. But the other day I came across something new and baffling – and it’s not an IE problem, so it was a huge Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot* moment.

The problem: In Safari (2.0.3), nothing within the <form> … </form> tags was showing up. But if I removed the opening <form> tag, the inputs, labels, etc. showed up as expected!

After much head-scratching, fruitless Googling, and futzing with HTML and CSS, I found the fix: the form was inside a div, and when I applied display: block to the containing div, all the form elements showed up correctly!

I guess that’ll be one more for the Quirksmode list of Safari bugs!

Update: This happens only if the containing div has the clearfix class applied.

* h/t Rusty

First boobies on TV, now opinions on bumper stickers

A letter in today’s AJC (login), by one Karen Brown of Scarietta, reads:

Opinions not for children to see

As the mother of four children, Denise Grier should understand exactly why she was cited: She has every right to voice her political opinions, but not to display foul language where young children can read it. There is no attempt made to disguise the word since the BU is one color and the SH– is another.

A couple of years ago, my now 7-year-old saw an identical sticker, read it aloud and promptly asked what the expletive meant. I explained that some adults were never taught manners. They act like children, use inappropriate words and call people names that shouldn’t be said out loud.

Grier needs to pay the fine and remove the bumper sticker. Actually, she should be fined for every day it remains on her car.

Huh? Children have to be protected from opinions now? (I know, the paper stuck that headline on, but still – it’s a good summation of what she wrote.)

The best part is how she laments the flaunting of dirty words in children’s innocent faces, and then goes on to explain to her son that adults use such language because they act like children.

Um. Okay.

Anyway, she didn’t even answer her son’s actual question, but I guess children are just too fragile and dumb to be able to handle simple explanations of what words mean. Instead, it’s better to bring out the soapbox and get all theoretical on a 5-year-old’s ass.

And just to emphasize that fabulous last sentence:

Actually, she should be fined for every day it remains on her car.

What. The. FUCK. (There’s a dirty word for ya, Karen. I hope your son doesn’t use the internets!)

Making these crazy ideas real

I know most of my readers don’t live in New York City; nevertheless, I want to point out that Sex Worker Visions, the art show Dacia is curating, opens tomorrow. I wanted to mention this not because we can all hop on the subway and head over to the LGBT Community Center on W. 13th St., but because this project coming to fruition really inspires me. Dacia went out there and did something – and it’s something unique and awesome (and it’s getting press attention). I felt inspired in a similar way by Kate and Julie, the two women who organized the Decatur production of The Vagina Monologues (which happened last month) – just two regular people, wanting to make something happen and actually going through with it. And good god, let’s not forget the North Fulton Drama Club, the brainchild of Nikki, Thomas, and Alyssa. That totally blew me away.

Seeing my friends turn dreams into reality gives me hope for the things I want to do – even the dreams which are not yet fully formed, but just nebulous ideas of “wouldn’t it be cool if…” floating around in my head. For the longest time I always felt kind of intimidated at the idea of taking on projects that would require me to take risks – including, of course, the risk of outright failure. I would get hung up on logistics – which, to be fair, were often legitimate concerns (e.g., sparse supply of time and/or money) – and end up not doing anything.

But all the awesome stuff the people around me are doing has really driven home that whole idea of being driven by passion to produce amazing results. Because if these people, my friends, who are smart and passionate but not rich or famous or endowed with supernatural powers can make this shit happen, so can I.

The GDBF and I have a project in the works, and you’ll hear about it in more detail soon. A large part of why this idea hasn’t lost momentum in its journey to realization is that it’s our idea, our effort; he keeps me excited about it (and increasingly giddy) and, I hope, vice versa.

Since I can’t think of a way to end this post without getting incredibly cheesy, I’ll just tell you to go read Dacia’s Gothamist interview, published today. If you don’t feel inspired as well after reading it, you should probably see a doctor.

Movin’ Out

I know, that was way too obvious a title. But really, how could I not use it?

Tomorrow morning I’ll pick up the key to my new apartment in the Ice House Lofts, and then I’ll have until Friday to move all my crap over, and get the old place spic ‘n’ span, so I can get my deposit back. I’m taking the day off work Friday, and will be spending 3 hours of that day waiting for Comcast to come over, even though I really don’t need their help setting up my cable modem.

Moving is always hectic and a pain in my ass, and I’m looking forward to getting it over with and settling into my new apartment. And even though I’m really excited to live in Decatur, down the hall from the GDBF, there’s always something bittersweet about moving; the whole “one chapter of your life closes, another one opens” schtick. There are lots of ways to delineate chapters of your life, and where you live is as good a way as any other. My apartment in midtown (which already feels like someone else’s apartment that I’ve just been visiting over the past few days) was the first place I lived in Atlanta; I could wax nostalgic and talk about how different things were when I moved there 2 years ago… but I’ll spare you. For now.

This is to say, if blogging is sparse over the next few days, you know why.

Of Montreal @ the 40 Watt

We got home at 3:00 a.m. Friday night/Saturday morning; I went to bed at 4:00. I’m too old to be staying up that late!

Grand Buffet was in fine form, though they didn’t mention ephedrine this time. Of Montreal rocked my socks as usual. I could’ve done without people grabbing me and moving me aside so they can walk by, though. I also could’ve done without the Fratty McFrattersons standing near us; they obviously came to see Grand Buffet, and just hung around for the PBR.

Cari managed to get a few pictures; click ‘em for larger versions.

Kevin marrying the audience

Of Montreal, hell yes

Kevin on guitar

Branding

Tired of repeatedly referring to “anti-choicers” when writing ranty and/or reasoned blog posts about those banes of our collective existence? Well, suffer no more from a lack of synonyms! Figleaf has coined a new term for those morons*, and I dig it.

I don’t see feminism so much as a granting of *rights* to equality and autonomy as a *restoration* from wrongs. And almost as long as I can remember I haven’t looked at feminists and said “what you want is right” because what we want is as natural and basic and fundamental and essential as inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide. Instead when I contemplate the men and women who believe women are substandard knockoffs and imperfect copies of men I wonder, deeply, even prayerfully, “what’s *wrong* with you people?”

Yep. I’ll have to use this new label soon.

* Ed. note: You could also just say “morons.” But that’s no fun.

Ranty goodness

Belledame gives good rant:

[W]e women are inherently more peaceful and full of the sisterly love, particularly once we have begun the endless, gruelling work of purging ourselves of the patriarchal toxins, and oh my God, you’re not seriously wearing those shoes, are you? You like WHAT in bed? What the hell is wrong with you? I mean, besides the patriarchal contamination, which has clearly gotten to you even worse than the rest of us. Don’t you know that those spanking and bondage games you’re playing out with your girlfriend are all about abuse and hierarchy, which were invented by John the Patriarch in 703 B.C., and plays right into male rape fantasies, which I’m now going to describe in great unappetizing detail? By the way: I’m only telling you this for your own good

LOL!!1!1 Awesome.

I know this is another one of those kinda cop-out posts – just a big quote – but as per usual, I’m busy as all hell (which, if you didn’t know, stays hoppin’ 24/7). I’ll put up a real post eventually. I sort of want to write about rape fantasies, but I’m not sure if I should open that can of worms. What do you think?

Sex-positive Christians?

Hey, look! It’s a Christian perspective on masturbation that stands in stark contrast to that of Every Young Man’s Battle.

God made our bodies, so if we think our bodies are dirty and shameful, we are shunning God’s divine creation. And if we masturbate with shame and feelings of sinfulness, we are besmirching God’s blessing. Instead, we should celebrate our bodies and our sexual nature, and rejoice in the pleasure and satisfaction that they can bring us through masturbation. [Full article]

Hmm, nothing in there about masturbation creating “distance from God” or causing your college girlfriend to have an abortion.

I wonder about some of the things on the Sex In Christ web site – why is it okay to have a threesome with two women, but not with two men? – but overall it’s a breath of fresh air when compared to the hellfire and damnation approach taken by many religious folks.

(Via Bitch | Lab)

See also my Every Young Man’s Battle book reviews.

A few quick things

• Apparently last night at trivia I left $25 instead of $10. This can be the only conclusion, because when I opened up my wallet to pay for lunch, instead of the twenty and five I was expecting, there were two fives. I like to think I’m a generous tipper, but damn. I could’ve used that twenty bucks.
• There’s an Of Montreal show in Athens tomorrow night, and Cari and I are going. That’s three OM shows in six months… I’m turning into such a groupie.
• My fingernails always look like shit. Other women’s hands and fingernails always look so nice and freshly manicured. What gives? (No, I don’t want you to give me an actual answer; this is purely rhetorical. And no, I’m not a nail biter.)
• Busy, busy, busy. I’m slumming it today with lunch from Krystal. Ugh.