So I was going to write a funny ha-ha post focusing on that, and looking forward to day 2 of the conference. But the other news, now, is that my dad passed away, at 8:20 p.m. tonight (Thursday, July 17). I’m catching a 9:05 a.m. flight to Atlanta tomorrow, and then a connecting flight to Augusta at 1:18 p.m. Rusty will be joining me on Saturday or Sunday. At the moment, I feel weirdly (to other people’s perceptions, anyway) calm and collected. I really only started to get emotional on the phone with my mom because she was so upset and I was sympathetic with her.

We’ll see what the next few days bring, though. I’m sure I’ll do my share of crying and riding the emotional rollercoaster. Password protected posts to come, I’m sure.

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

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[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

Reproductive Justice Summer 2008
Stand for Justice – Say NO to OSA

Monday July 14th: Stand for Justice Say NO to OSA!

• 9- 10 am Press Conference at SisterSong (1237 Ralph David Abernathy Blvd) Bring your signs and spirit.
• 6 pm PPNGO for Choice at Manuel’s Tavern hosted by Planned Parenthood. Play for awesome prizes like free gas cards! Bring some cash. Manuel’s Tavern is at 602 N Highland Ave and 404-525-3447.

Tuesday July 15th: Act Up for Reproductive Justice!

• 9 am sign shaking and banner dropping at Woodruff Park 84 Peachtree St. Bring your signs.
• 6 pm Sidewalk Counseling at OSA’s nightly rally. Carpool from SPARK at 743 Virginia Ave or meet at the Denny’s at 5534 Jimmy Carter Blvd. Bring your signs. Their rally is at Landmark Church at 3737 Holcomb Rd, Norcross.

Wednesday July 16th: Our Bodies, Our Lives!

• 9 am protest at Woodruff Park 84 Peachtree St. Bring your signs.
• 6-7:30 pm SisterSong panel: Women of Color and Abortion. Aderhold Learning Center at Georgia State University (60 Luckie St).

Thursday July 17th: RJ is Sexy! Positive Sexuality Matters!

• 9 am sex positive protest at Woodruff Park 84 Peachtree St. Bring your signs and we’ll have some cardboard poetry.
• 6-9 pm Movie Night at Georgia State University. Library South 8th Floor Colloquium Room (100 Decatur St).

Friday July 18th: Act Up for Reproductive Justice!

• 9 am Last day for banner drops and sign shaking before we bid farewell to OSA. Woodruff Park 84 Peachtree St.
• 5-7 pm Protest at Colony Square (1197 Peachtree St) 404-879-2250.

Saturday July 19th: Goodbye OSA! Don’t Let the Door Hit You on the Way Out!

• 9 am Carpool from SPARK at 743 Virginia Ave or meet at Denny’s at 5534 Jimmy Carter Blvd. Bring your signs as we say goodbye to OSA.
• After the farewell we’ll have a community celebration picnic at Best Friend Park at 6224 Jimmy Carter Blvd near their hotel. Yum.

Contact: Paris: 404-917-7694, Amanda: 770-375-5920, SPARK: 404-532-0022, www.SPARKRJ.org

I only wish I could participate more right now.

[Cross-posted at Radlanta]

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

• DON’T “stay out of it” just because you don’t get it. Inaction is complicity. If you’re not part of the solution then you’re part of the problem.
• DON’T expect a cookie/hug/pat on the back simply for not being a total asshole. Don’t expect women to just accept it when you say you’re a feminist ally. Expect to have to work hard, and understand that this is not an unreasonable expectation. Understand, too, that it’s vitally important and necessary, and resist the urge to just throw up your hands and say fuck it.
• Expanding on the above about not expecting a pat on the back: Congrats, all you did was what should be default expected behavior. Part of a sexist society is the fact that it holds men to a ridiculously low standard. Hold men to a higher standard and call out your male friends/colleagues/associates when they’re being assholes. It’s not easy but things that really matter seldom are. Again, silence is complicity.
• DON’T make it all about you. E.g., in a feminist forum, don’t make comments such as, “Not all men do [x]!”, “Men can be raped too!”, “Patriarchy hurts men too!” etc. WE KNOW. But at the moment, we really don’t need you taking the focus away from women again.
• This is the most important one: LISTEN. Read, re-read, and re-read again. Think and process. Take time to really think before you speak/type. Ask questions, but be mindful of the space in which you are asking. Some spaces are not appropriate for some questions, and remember that feminists are not here to do your homework for you. Do your due diligence. Educate yourself on the basics of feminism by (here it comes again!) listening. Then, ask specific and thoughtful questions in venues that are appropriate for it.

Here are some blogs of male feminist allies. Read them, as well as the blogs of feminist women. I don’t agree w/ everything they write, but I shouldn’t have to say that, because I rarely agree with all of what anyone writes. However, unfortunately w/ feminism, for outsiders sometimes there seems to be this expectation of groupthink and that we all agree 100% on every issue. This could not be further from the truth.

• http://doingfeminism.com
• http://realadultsex.com
• http://nocookiesforme.blogspot.com
• http://feministallies.blogspot.com

For another object lesson on what NOT to do, pay attention to how that guy Jeffrey Deutsch addressed me in the comments on Derek’s post about sex worker’s rights. Big ol’ FAIL stamp there.

So yeah, I thought this was a pretty good outline. If you’re not doing this stuff, you definitely should not claim the label “feminist ally,” and certainly not “feminist.” And on a personal level? If you’re not doing this stuff, I probably don’t like you very much and feel uncomfortable being around you.

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

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My emotions are all over the place: sad, numb, angry, surprisingly okay, patient, impatient, resentful, disappointed, annoyed, overwhelmed, resigned, irritated, stressed, deflated, exhausted (well, that one has stayed pretty steady)… basically anything you can think of.

I am really looking forward to the Desiree Alliance conference. I’m also really looking forward to SLEEPING, and spending “alone time” with Rusty. (I don’t mean sex, although I’m looking forward to that, too; but I wouldn’t use a stupid euphemism like “alone time” for sex.)

Thanks again to others who have called/emailed since I last wrote. At the moment I feel too emotionally worn out to return calls and such (hope you understand), but I really do appreciate it.

Okay gotta go eat the onion rings Rusty got me from Burger King. Such healthy eating, I know.

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

I’m still going to Chicago next week. I feel kind of guilty for doing so, but I also know I need some “me” time. I’ll probably be coming to Augusta a lot more frequently. I don’t feel quite as anxious about the whole situation as I did a few days ago, now that I know he’ll be getting hospice care. I did some reading about hospice and what it encompasses, and it looks like basically they will do anything and everything you need. So now I don’t feel quite so worried about my mom (even though I am still worried, but just not on that one particular level).

If you have called, texted, emailed, sent a Twitter direct mesage or @ message, or any other form of supportive communication - THANK YOU. I really appreciate it and it means so much to me. I really want to convey my sincerity on that. I’m sorry that I probably won’t be answering everyone individually (due to time, stress, exhaustion, etc.) but knowing that there are people out there who truly do care has made a big difference. ‘Cause sometimes, well, I don’t trust people very easily and I wonder if I’m mostly “alone.” This has made me feel like maybe I’m not. And whether it’s true or not, it’s a nice feeling.

Thanks for meeting us at Waffle House tonight, Jen… that was a fun distraction. Overall keeping a sense of humor (when it’s appropriate, I mean) is very helpful for me. And so is being able to lean on Rusty. I know you’re reading this, GDBF… I love you and I can’t articulate how grateful I am.

Jenny, I’ll try to call you tomorrow. I don’t mean to add more drama, but… well, I know you’re always there (I never have any doubts about “aloneness” with you!) and your text message today made me tear up (in a good way), and I showed it to my mom and she said that was so sweet of you. If I get time tomorrow, I’ll call, and I’ll probably just want to ramble.

I still have this stupid weird feeling like if people see me writing about this they’ll think I’m trying to say I’m the only one who’s ever dealt with a parent with cancer. I know that’s ridiculous. That’s one of the things you never have to think about with an old-fashioned paper journal, for sure!

Okay, I guess that’s all for now… Rusty’s in the shower, I’m just trying to stay awake until he’s done. Tomorrow the hospice nurse is coming over at some point, and they might be delivering my dad’s hospital bed (or it might be on Sunday). Some password-protected posts will come eventually, as will a bunch of scanned old photos.

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

• I am really starting to hate the word “privilege.” Not the concept, not the legitimate analysis; but the way it’s so often tossed around as an insult and a shield. The way even saying this makes me sound like the right-wing assholes I loathe. Big ol’ FAIL stamp to all that.
• Whenever someones says something about a “soul-sucking corporate job” as if this is a generally-understood, universally-loathed thing, I bristle.
• I think people who talk about doing what you love and the money will come, or it’s more important to do something for love, passion, commitment, dreams, ideals, etc. than money, have never really known what’s it’s like not to have a safety net (or never had a circumstance come up where they had to realize they don’t have one).
• When people ask - no, expect - me to do “pro bono” web development work, it REALLY offends me. It makes me feel like they don’t appreciate my work or value my time. It comes off as them saying their time is more valuable than mine.
• I love Starbucks. Same as last year’s confession!

Go on over to Octo’s post and leave your own!

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

Part of why I’m on the fence about BlogHer Atlanta? Well, aside from the $100 entry fee (which is totally fine of them to charge; I am NOT being one of those people who complains about anything that’s not totally free at the expense of someone else’s hard work), there’s also the fact that I’m just over a lot of these conferences.

Rusty and I talked about why on a podcast a while ago. They’ve become commercialized, but that’s not even the word. Cartoonized, maybe? Firefox spellcheck doesn’t know that word (but then it doesn’t know “spellcheck” either) but I think it’s the most apt. If I hear the word “conversation” again I may puke.

And I’m really not trying to be one of those too-cool-for-school assholes who blogs about why blogging sucks, or that kind of thing. I HATE that!

But look, here’s the truth. In addition to the cartoony, sales-pitchy bullshit, I don’t feel welcome at these conferences. With rare exception, I never really have - it just took me a while to admit it to myself, I guess. The BlogSavannah experience was a breakthrough, of course, but there have been so many other instances that I’ve lost count.

When you talk about sex, and you’re a woman, and you’re a tech geek, and you (gasp!) also talk about things other than sex (because OMG, people who aren’t ashamed about sex do other things in their lives, too)… well, let’s just say it doesn’t add up to a good combination, with a lot of people. There are some awesome people, sure. But they don’t tend to be the majority at these conferences. Which is one reason I created Sex 2.0 - to bring all those people together and none (or, well, very few) of the sucky ones!

Sometimes I wonder how much of me not feeling welcome is an accurate perception of reality, and how much is self-induced. Then I remember how good I am at reading people and situations, and that my intuition is almost always spot on, and that I always doubt it anyway, because somehow that seems like the proper thing to do (surely we must consider all angles, surely!) and heaven forfend, I would appear “selfish” if I didn’t.

I remember the guy guffawing at BarCamp Atlanta about Sex 2.0. I remember the stupid, predictable, un-funny, adolescent-level jokes. BarCamp Atlanta pretty much sucked all around, but that’s the stuff that stands out the most in my memory. Oh, and the hooker jokes. Those fucking guys joking about going down to 11th street and finding the hookers.

Here’s a secret. When you make a hooker joke - whoever you are - I hate you, right then and there. Even if generally, rationally, I know that most of the time you’re a “good person” - whatever that even means. When you do that, I hate you, and my eyes want to seer through you.

Oh and back to being a woman who talks about sex (bullet point above). Sometimes people seem incredulous that it’s still such a “big deal.” I want to ask where the fuck they’ve been, anyway. Last week, at Manuel’s, I overheard that conversation at the table behind us, carried on by supposed friends-of-friends. I didn’t know these people, but it didn’t matter. I’ve heard a million conversations like it before. Quote: “She was really weird, she talked about sex all the time.” Quote: “Yeah, I mean she was a total weirdo… she said if we went to this party, we’d be expected to have sex in front of people!” Just shove a dagger through my chest already. We’re back to square one.

Well, I should probably wrap it up and try to get some sleep. I feel very restless, but we’re going to Radial for breakfast, so I need to get my butt to bed.

One last thing - I feel the need to say here, too, that Elisa Camahort is awesome and I’m not trying to trash BlogHer or anything like that. I had so much fun hanging out with her at ConvergeSouth - she is just a nice, cool, down-to-earth person. And look at the super cool slide she made!

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]

The original placeholder title of this post was “In the VA on July 4th.” As I said on Twitter, the irony was most certainly not lost on me that my dad was in the VA Hospital on July 4th, with much of the place closed down and only a skeleton crew working, and the asshole intern who looked like he just walked off the set of Grey’s Anatomy (but not in a good way) saying they can’t do anything because of the holiday weekend. There were signs everyone that said, “Our Mission: To Do Everything We Can For Veterans,” and patriotic decorations of the sort you find in elementary schools, with bubbly cut-out American-flag-patterned letters stapled to those big sheets of paper that come on rolls, spelling out, “We Love Our Veterans!”

That is some terrible irony. I guess the only way it could be worse is if it had been Memorial Day weekend.

“Support our troops” means put a fucking yellow ribbon magnet on the back of your SUV (yes, it’s so cliché to even say it at this point, we’ve all heard it before), not actually providing care and coverage to the infirm. Oh right my dad gets a piddly $200 a month benefit from the government for being exposed to Agent Orange in Vietnam; “oops, our bad for exposing you to a potentially deadly chemical; here’s two hundred bucks!”

And leaving the infuriating irony aside, this whole situation has brought out into the light (yet again) the stark, ugly reality of the divide between the haves and the have-nots. We can spend billions of dollars on a wall between the US and Mexico but somehow we can’t figure out how to provide comprehensive health coverage for every citizen. I mean thank goodness for small favors; at least he’s actually registered at the VA at this point (unlike when he had a stroke in 2006, and was treated like a second-class citizen by the staff at Doctors Hospital [coincidentally, also the hospital where I was born], since he didn’t have insurance). He has Medicare Part Whatever - I can’t keep track of all the letters and what they mean. I worked on a program for it back when it first came out in 2005, and I remember thinking, holy shit, if I can’t make hide nor hair of this nonsense then how the hell is someone who’s elderly and unwell going to navigate this fucking labyrinth of bureaucracy? Oh but at least the web site had large type!

Anyway Medicare Part XYZobtwFU will pay for a nursing home - but only for 90 days. Someone explain that rationale to me! Who goes into a nursing home and then, after 90 days, is suddenly fit and well and ready to go golfing!? Or do they just expect you’ll die before the 90 days is up? If not, go ahead and start spending your retirement savings - oh wait, that’s assuming you have any retirement savings. There’s that nasty divide again.

And yet knowing all this, my mom still votes Republican. It baffles.

I don’t know. There’s more I want to say. I’m on an emotional rollercoaster. And there’s this side of me that’s infuriating even myself, where I start to feel selfish (that word again!) for even mentioning this to anyone, like they’re going to think I’m trying to say I’m the only person who’s ever dealt with a family crisis. Now realistically, who would think that? No one. But that’s my mind for you.

I guess one of the good things about going to Augusta this weekend is that I won’t have to see that stupid psychiatrist on Saturday. I really do not like her, but for now she’s the one prescribing my meds. I don’t feel that I’ve been benefiting from talk therapy lately, but that’s another story for another time.

And I have another post about my dad and such in the works which will come out eventually, but it’ll need to be password-protected. And who knows when I’ll get around to writing it.

Oh and also? Preemptively… please, no comments on this post telling me what I should do or who I should call or what I should look into. Unless you know something 100% definitive and can do the work for me? Well, I appreciate that you might mean well and want to help, but no thanks.

[This is a post from: Being Amber Rhea]