Being Amber Rhea

I’m busy w/ work so I’m just going to dash this off. A few weeks ago Creative Loafing had this story about Atlantans who moved to New York, and what they thought of NYC. I didn’t read it, but in this week’s (or I guess now it’s last week’s) Creative Loafing they had letters responding to it. There was one that was thanking them for running it bc the person said they get sick and tired of hearing the self-righteous assholes who move to Atlanta from cities in the North and talk about “You have no culture, you don’t know good food, you’re not educated, blah blah blah.” Then there was a letter by one of those assholes! It was doing everything the previous letter had said - telling Southerners we have no culture, telling us we deserve to be made fun of by the rest of the country. GOD! Fuck those people! I am so SICK of shit like that! And it’s always from people who describe themselves as progressive and liberal, too. Guess what… even if you’re right about some of it (not saying you are or aren’t, but let’s just put it out there for the sake of argument) it doesn’t matter because you’re being a complete tool about it! Bias against the South remains an acceptable form of bias among progressives and I’m fucking sick of it. It is NOT OKAY. Own your shit before you point fingers, assholes.

Re: this Feministe post (which a friend emailed me, because as I mentioned, I’ve been taking a break from reading most blogs)…

I must rant as if no one is looking, briefly.

I’m fed up w/ this bullshit. FED UP. I am just sick of all this groupthink/lockstep mentality going on. And I’m sorry but I’ve always thought that the people who think socialism is so awesome are privileged in their OWN way (as much as I’m sick of the word “privilege” being thrown around so much, too…) because it’s like, you know what, I know what it’s like to NOT have money, and I know it’s not romantic or revolutionary or transgressive - it SUCKS. So for me, having money is empowering not to mention “empaychecking.” Not everybody has the luxury to worry about what the best economic system is when they have to put food on the table, ever think of that? Plus the same old thing I keep coming back to… WHY is having money BAD?? It’s what you do with that money that counts, and yeah, feeding your family is pretty damn awesome. If you also have enough money to help others outside your family? GREAT!! But serious change takes economic leverage, and if we constantly vilify anybody who has a certain amount of money, we’re going to shoot ourselves in the foot.

I’m fucking sick of it.

So there yo go. Cast me out, if you will. *shrug*

So Rusty wrote a thing to import my old blog (first database, April 2002-January 2004; second database, March 2004-April 2007) into WordPress. Yay! It’s something I’d been wanting to do for a long time but hadn’t felt like doing myself, because I didn’t know how easy or hard it would be, and how much time I’d have to spend poking around in shitty documentation and message board threads full of haughty asses. As it turns out, the PHP was pretty simple - very similar to the PHP for my original blog, actually - it was just finding the WP-friendly XML format that was a pain in the rear. The documentation for that is (surprise!) shitty, and apparently Rusty had to do a lot of hunting around to find the right format. See, that is the kind of thing I don’t have the patience for. Like just today for instance, I was trying to find out how to edit my .htaccess file to restrict virtual directory listings. I actually don’t care that much (if I did, I would’ve done it a long time ago) but for some reason I got a wild hair today and decided it would be a good idea. First I went to see if there was an easy setting to check on or off in the Dreamhost control panel. (Control panels have made me forget a lot of command-line stuff; PHPMyAdmin, in particular. I used to do MySQL by command-line only. Now I just don’t care enough anymore.) There wasn’t. So I did a Google search hoping to find what to add to my .htaccess file. And I couldn’t find it! Everyone was trying to be so damn cute. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s these self-righteous uber-geeks on message boards. Somebody had gone on a message board and asked the very same question I was asking; well, to be precise, they phrased it like, “How can I restrict virtual directory listings?” You know what some asshole wrote in response? “By editing .hatccess.” Thanks for nothing, asshole! And then somebody else was like, you have to set the blah blah option, with a link to the Apache man page. And who can read that thing? Look, I’m a pretty hardcore geek (I just don’t feel like I always have to thump my chest about it and get into a pissing contest over who knows the most obscure terminology) but I don’t have time to sit around and try to decipher that stuff. I know it’s an Apache configuration thing. And you, Smart Guy, on the message board thread, obviously know how to do it. So why not just paste in the line of code, let Google pick it up, and then everybody else searching for it in the future will quickly and easily find their answer and get on with their day, instead of slogging through man pages like a “real” geek, or god knows what.

I’m just so over the days of trying to “prove my creds” as a geek. I just don’t care. I have a Master’s in IT, but even the minute I say that, I look like an ass. But I do. I’m a programmer, and if I have to prove my creds, I can always say I wrote my own blog with PHP. But see, I don’t have to prove anything. When I was in school, there were always those guys (always guys) who would make everything a competition about who was geekier. Does anybody like being around them? That shit is fucking annoying!! And it always stuck in my craw in a particular way because they always assumed I didn’t know anything. Because I was the girl. So surely I must need their “computer help.” I mean, even tonight, I said something on Twitter about importing my old blog into WP, and somebody @ messaged me and said something like, “Let me know if you need help or advice.” And I KNOW this guy was just trying to be nice and friendly, but I’ve heard stuff like that for so many years, from guys who maybe sincerely thought THEY were trying to be nice and friendly, but were assuming I was technologically illiterate, that it rubs me the wrong way.

Anyway, like I said, I’m done feeling like I have to prove anything. I guess it’s like my hardware phase, which was roughly late 2000-early 2003. I collected old computers (mostly Macs). I loved delving under the hood of a Mac. To earn extra money, I did things like install RAM and configure software. I built PCs (but felt dirty doing it, so I stopped; I just couldn’t in good conscience keep foisting Windows onto people). Even well into 2004 I had a server in my bedroom, for godsake.

I remember walking into Best Buy in Athens, with my husband, to buy parts (in my PC-building phase; call me a mercenary, I guess) - inevitably the person (usually a guy) at the front of the store would look at my husband and ask what we needed. And even when I spoke - saying something like we need a blah blah watt power supply - he would REPLY to my husband!! Infuriating!!

But anyway, one day I woke up and realized I wasn’t interested in hardware anymore. It hadn’t happened suddenly. My interest had just faded away, without me noticing, until one day it dawned on me: oh, I no longer care about this stuff. And it’s true. Now, I could not give two shits about hard drive maintenance (I guess that’s more of a mix of software and hardware, but I digress) and finding cheap motherboards on Overstock.com.

And now the same is true with a lot of programming-related stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I still think PHP is great. I just don’t sit around at night creating database-driven applications for fun like I did a few years ago. If I need to whip out some PHP, I certainly can; but that’s the thing, nowadays it’s more about need than, I guess, creating a need. I write HTML, CSS, and Javascript - and the occasional smattering of XML and XSL - all day at work and I love my job; but I don’t create random web sites at home for the hell of it anymore. I do think CSS is awesome, of course, but it’s just not the centerpiece that it once was to me. I’m much more focused on getting stuff done, finding the tools to do a job and using them, than messing around with code just because I can.

And yeah, I do get testy when people assume that because I don’t sit up at night coding, that I can’t do a certain code-related task, or that I’m not “geeky enough,” or whatever. Every once in a while someone will start explaining something to me (this reminds me of that NY Times editorial, or maybe it was LA Times, I don’t know, one of those, entitled “Men Who Explain Things”) and I get pretty snippy with them because I don’t like this assumption of ignorance. They always seem so proud of themselves. “Oh let me explain to the girl how the DOM works!” No thanks; I know. Just because I’m not talking about it every second of the day, why must you assume I don’t understand it?

It’s just a matter of how I want to spend my time, and I’ve found other things I choose to devote my time to instead. And this isn’t a judgment on those who DO still enjoy such pursuits; I mean that was me until pretty recently! Just for whatever reason, it’s not fun to me like it used to be. (And I really don’t mean that in the sort of sad way it sounds here.) Such is life.

So all this is a very long-winded way of saying thank you to Rusty for writing the thing to import my old blog! I am very grateful, and better you than me, because I just don’t feel like messing with it, even though I know I can. :) You even converted the old categories to tags… awesome!! :)

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As of this moment, I know I have an issue w/ an unclosed div in the old posts because the comments are closed, but I’ll fix it later. Update: Fixed!

Briefly, because I have to wrap a few things up before I leave the office and head home to get ready for pole dancing class… which is particularly timely given some of the links I’m about to provide.

Yes, no surprise, shit like this and this (check the comment from “L”) downright enrages me. And even that word, I think, does not do justice to the pure RAGE I feel when I see people DENYING MY AGENCY AS A HUMAN BEING, denying my very existence, denying that I am an intelligent, capable, self-aware woman who is CONSTANTLY examining and reflecting on my own life and the choices I make. It hurts the most when it comes from other women, in particular other feminists.

I don’t know how or what to write about this shit anymore. Ren has written rounds and rounds of sense on her blog, as have many others; but Ren has been particularly prolific (and repetitive, because apparently it’s just NOT GETTING THROUGH to some people). Frankly I don’t know how she has the energy anymore. It drains me, to constantly try so hard to get people to understand the simple fact of, “This is my life, this is my truth, this is WHO I AM, and you don’t have to like it but you DO have to accept it, and accept that I have done enough ‘examining’ for the both of us, thankyouverymuch.”

It enrages me, and it makes me feel sick, and sad, and just awful about humanity, actually. Because why is it such a difficult concept to convey, that my life is mine, my choices are mine, and just because they differ from yours that does not mean I’m damaged or stupid? Why is it so hard to see that accepting the same old stereotypes of women who are openly sexual (not to mention women who work in the sex industry!) as stupid or damaged or victims or villains is nothing more than some seriously OLD-SCHOOL PATRIARCHAL BULLSHIT? It HURTS to have that same old double standard inflicted on me by other women, by other FEMINISTS.

This post gets the “hypocrisy” tag because, as I said to Elisa the other night, that’s what it is, plain and simple.

Pole dancing, for example? The smug characterizations of it as “empowerful” or “degrading” and whatever other bullshit so-called feminist bloggers (not to even mention non-feminists, especially anti-feminist men; holy shit, I can’t even go there, I would get damn near suicidal) say about it, talking OUT OF THEIR ASSES, assuming I must be doing it for my boyfriend (!!!!!!) or whatever else… holy fucking shit I cannot take it anymore. But guess what I DO know, assholes? That when I’m pole dancing, I feel joyful and whole, I feel a happiness that I rarely feel at any other time that permeates my entire being, I feel ALIVE - and the last thing on my mind is what “Teh Menz” might be thinking (especially because nine times out of ten, there AREN’T ANY MEN PRESENT anyway).

I don’t know how many times I can say this before it will get across. And maybe it never will - which is the part that hurts the most.

There are few people inhabiting certain corners of the blogosphere in which I move who (whom?) I find to be bullies and/or “queen bee” types. To name names would certainly bring the Wrath of the Goddesses upon my head - so I’ll be willfully obtuse and arguably passive-aggressive instead. But eventually my annoyance might boil over; so consider this a forewarning.

Also, tag links aren’t working now that I’ve upgraded to WordPress 2.5.1. Boooo.

ETA: Bumped up from comments:

I realize this post was not very fair of me. *shrug* I’ve just been feeling annoyed, and I guess I felt some compulsion to put some evidence of my annoyance “out there” - even if in a way that raises questions (and eyebrows) and puts people on the defensive.

So yeah, like I said, not very fair of me. And yet I felt like I “needed” to do it. Sometimes I can be weird. :P

Inspired by this post, I decided that I wanted to try writing for a larger audience. Eek! I’ve always felt very stressed out writing under any kind of pressure, even self-imposed pressure, but I want to challenge myself and see what happens. So last night I did a bunch of free-writing/brain-dumping. The result of that exercise has now graduated to rough draft numero uno, which means I had to cut a bunch of stuff so I could stick w/ a central theme. Here’s all the stuff I took out - I think it’s all important stuff and highly relevant, but I just couldn’t make it “fit.” Solution? Blog it!

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You often hear feminists saying that just using “choice” as an excuse or justification or way of avoiding dealing w/ complex issues is BS. And it is. They will often say, “The context in which that choice is made matters.” And it does!! So why does that concept fly out the window when the issue is sex, and in particular sex that squicks some people out?

Look, if you’ve got a woman telling you, “This is what I like, I’ve examined it and yes this is really what I want to do, and doing it makes me happy, and trying to force myself NOT to do it made me feel awful, and will people just get off my back about it already?” - what the fuck is so hard to understand about that?? A core tenet of feminism is the importance of listening to women, providing women with space to speak the truths of their lives, to speak honestly and openly without the restraints put in place by a society that tries to dictate what is acceptable and what is not. We often say when it comes to issues of rape: “Listen to the woman. Take her at her word. Believe her.” We often say when it comes to issues of abortion: “Trust women. They are capable of making their own decisions.”

Why do these sentiments not apply when a woman says she likes a certain kind of sex?

Recent editions of Our Bodies, Ourselves have removed some of the sex fantasies that were in the original 1972 version, because they were deemed too controversial or uncomfortable. Wait a minute. Wasn’t the point that women need space to talk about these things openly, even if (especially if!) they are “controversial” or “out of the norm” or make other people squirm a little?

Do you think I haven’t been told that, as a woman, actively wanting and pursuing sex, enjoying it for its own sake and not as a way to “get” something or as a reward, not necessarily tying it up with love or a relationship, etc., is bad and that there’s something wrong with me? You think the social script of sluts vs. good girls doesn’t play on an endless loop in the back of my mind, even now? You think I haven’t been hearing this shit since before I was old enough to really understand what “sexuality” even meant?

You think that’s not patriarchy??

The patriarchy is SEX-NEGATIVE. I am personally not a fan of the term “The Patriarchy” (capital P!) but I often refer to the sex-negative society in which we live. Guess what, folks? Same thing, different name.

I am tired of my arguments being reduced to black-and-white, simplistic, non-nuanced cartoons of themselves. And the funny thing is, often the people who are doing this reducing are, nearly in the same breath, complaining about arguments about sex being so black-and-white and over-simplified! It would be laughable if it weren’t so crazy-making. Uh, well maybe part of that is that you’re the one simplifying things. You are not hearing what people are saying. There’s a filter in place, filtering out the nuance.

Don’t tell me it’s not worth pushing back against the status quo. To do anything else feels like death to me, and yeah that might sound melodramatic, but I don’t know how else to convey it.

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Other responses to the Feministe thread:

• Bookworm: Feminist-positive sex: some initial thoughts
• let them eat pro-sm feminist safe spaces: Getting off on power exchange is BadWrong, let me tell you it.
• Letters from Gehenna: Examining Desire
• Renegade Evolution: You know, I think the feminist thing to do would be to stop telling people how to fuck…. and Patient Zero, it’s time for your Examination…
• season of the bitch: Female Desire Week (plus): Sex and Art

Figleaf posts about pole dancing, and includes this footnote:

[Quick note: The post by 100% Injury Rate, the source of the version of photo I used, above, mentions that the Australian program teaches girls *and* boys, which is at least one step in a positive direction, although it sounds like it's for kids as early as age seven. --fl]

I’m just going to repost the comment I left over there:

I don’t understand why something has to be done by boys/men for it to be seen as valid.

And Figleaf, as I’m sure you will appreciate, if I see one more person dismissively refer to pole dancing as “spreading your legs around a pole” and otherwise talking out of their ass about it, my head is going to fucking explode. Seriously people. If you have never tried it? SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT. You don’t know what you’re talking about.

I have NO patience for this. NONE.

On a side note, Figleaf, if you are reading this, I have to say… you know I value and respect your writing, but I’ve been pretty baffled by some of the things you’ve written lately, and what appears to be (in many cases) a regression to more “conservative” sexual and social views. What gives?

And no, before anybody asks, I am not going to fly off the handle about “OMG they’re teaching pole dancing to children!!!“, which is what the expected/approved reaction seems to be. Look. Perceptions never change if we don’t challenge them. Get the fuck over it. And, the meaning of something is different depending on the context! This should not be a difficult concept! (Jenny, I know you’ve written about this, but if it was on your blog, I can’t find the post right now. Or maybe it was in a comment here?) Yes, pole dancing originated in strip clubs. So what?? Jazz music has its roots in slavery… does that mean if you like jazz you’re giving the stamp of approval to slavery?

(Besides, kids climb on poles all the time, we just don’t call it “pole dancing!”)

It’s been almost a week since the untimely death of Deborah Jeane Palfrey. In my second post on the topic, written on Friday, I lamented the lack of coverage of this tragedy on big feminist blogs. Being an eternal optimist (often to a fault, I know), I gave Feministe and Feministing the benefit of the doubt, saying that hopefully they would post more about it soon - because as I well know, when you’re juggling a full-time job and other personal responsibilities along with blogging, it can be a challenge to find time to sit down and write a substantive post.

However, the weekend has come and gone, and this week is half over, and still… nothing new on Feministe. Feministing hardly ever loads for me anymore beyond the header, but a quick view of the source in IE (it won’t even show me the source in Firefox; it’s hung up on some script, apparently) shows nothing new.

I’ll briefly hop over to some other feminist-leaning blogs that I don’t frequent as often and see if they have anything…
Read the full post »

Last night, after spending several hours watching TV (My Name Is Earl, The Office, and several Daily Shows from last week), Rusty and I got in bed and talked for a little while about Deborah Jeane Palfrey’s death, and the whole situation, and what to do when things make us lose faith in humanity. There were no answers to be found, but at least talking about it can do some personal good.

After Rusty went to sleep, I quietly cried myself to sleep.

Some of what I said last night was…
Read the full post »

I had a psychiatrist appointment this morning at 11:00. I’d known about it for a couple weeks, it had been on my Google calendar and my work Outlook calendar, I even looked at my Google calendar last night and thought, “Okay, I need to leave the office at around 10:30 tomorrow”… and yet when the time rolled around today, I totally spaced. I was sitting there at my desk, happily working away, feeling good and productive, and at around 11:15 the phone rings and it’s my psychiatrist. As soon as I heard her voice I thought, “Oh, shit!” I think I actually said something more like, “Oh, crap!” but the sentiment was the same.

I apologized for missing the appointment; she asked if everything was okay, and I said yes. She asked how I was feeling and if I had enough medication, and if I’d like to reschedule for two weeks (I did).

Then I said, “I can’t believe I totally forgot. I’m really sorry, this is so not like me.”

And she said, “We need to talk about that.”

:| Really?? Give me a break!

I replied, “The only thing to talk about there is that my Outlook calendar didn’t pop up a reminder.”

Seriously, that remark really grated on me. Not everything is some pathological symptom. God! Then Jenny and I were chatting about it over IM, and Jenny said, “Why is there so much drama in mental health?”

And it’s true, there is!

I’m not going to be going to that place much longer, anyway. I had what I decided would be my final appointment with the therapist last week, and after my next appointment with the psychiatrist or whenever I can find someone else to prescribe my meds (whichever comes first), I won’t be going back there. I had already made that decision. For one thing, it’s up in Dunwoody, and my therapist’s office hours are the exact same as mine, so I have to take a couple hours off in the middle of the work day every time I go up there (it takes 30 minutes to drive each way, plus an hour-long appointment). But more importantly/annoyingly, they don’t file insurance for you!!

Okay, this is a place with several different therapists and psychiatrists working there, with a full administrative staff. In that way it’s a lot like the place I went when I lived in Texas, where I absolutely loved my therapist; in fact, seeing her was one of the only really positive things about my stay in Texas. Guess what, that place filed insurance just like any doctor’s office would. I mean, I could almost understand the insurance thing if it were one person in private practice; almost. I would still be annoyed, because to me that is part of their job. And I’ve been to therapists who are running their own show (ie, not working in an office w/ others) who do file insurance, and don’t complain to their clients about what a pain in the ass it is. But when it’s at a place where there’s an office staff of four or five people?? Are you kidding me? It makes me wonder what the office staff does. And I hate the attitude I’ve gotten from everyone there that they can’t be bothered, because it’s just soooo hard and complicated and there are just “too many different kinds of insurance” (actual quote) and they just can’t handle it… so, here, client, deal with the big towering bureaucracy of the insurance companies on your own!!

As such, I’ve filed claims for every visit - filed most of them at least twice, in fact. (The first time I filed, I called a few weeks later to check on the status and they said they had “no record” of any claims for me. Convenient!) Some of them I’ve filed three times. And still, only two claims are showing up in my records online, and both of those are taken fully from my deductible, whereas if the office staff did it, it would be like any other doctor’s visit where you just pay your co-pay.

I need to call Blue Cross Blue Shield again and check up on the claims and find out why some of them haven’t been accepted even though I’ve filed all the paperwork multiple times… but I’ve been procrastinating, because honestly, that shit stresses me out, and it takes time to hang on the phone, talk to the people at the company, get transferred around… and guess what, I have to work, I don’t really have time for that bullshit. That’s supposed to be the job of an office staff person! And you know, I go to therapy to reduce stress, not to add to it!

Rant over, for now. I actually have more to say about this whole issue, but this has gotten pretty long!

ETA: Oh, and of course they are charging me for the missed appointment. Good luck getting that claim paid, I bet!

ETA, pt. 2: Heh. Despite my excessive use of exclamation points herein, I promise I am not drunk.

So here’s the long and short of it. This coming Monday, Ren was supposed to be involved in a forum at William and Mary College about porn, sex work, and feminism. She and Jill Brenneman were going to debate John Foubert, the W&M professor who had a conniption fit about the Sex Workers Art Show coming to the campus, and renowned friend to women everywhere (seriously you guys, she loves women, now shut your stupid face about it before she sics her minions on you) Sam Berg, whose accomplishments include popularizing the portmanteau “pornstitution” and refusing to leave a beaten horse good and dead.

I was all set to write a post about it and encourage anyone within driving distance of W&M to head up there to witness the dressing down of John and Sam this historical meeting of the minds.

But now it seems, Ren has been “uninvited” to the forum. If you said “WTF??” to that, you’re not alone.

Apparently Ms. Berg is “uncomfortable” being in the same room as Ren. (She’s got the sex pox cooties, ya know!)

Seriously y’all… give me a fucking break!

So presumably, the forum will go on, and will consist of a bunch of people who are not sex workers opining loudly, vehemently, and at great length on the evils of porn (with plenty of salacious details and X-rated language, no doubt), and the ins and outs of the ritual whippings that take place on every porn set in America, and the secret chip that’s implanted in the neck of every sex worker who says she enjoys her job… and all the other various top-secret info only they have access to, being super-special Select Feminists™, of course.

God forbid Sam have to actually spew her hateful tripe directly in the face of a living, breathing sex worker. That would make things too difficult; it might threaten the One True Path! In that case, I can’t say I blame her for not wanting Ren there… you know, a sex worker who isn’t a walking embodiment of a stereotype (which, btw, the caricatures of sex workers as drug-addicted, self-loathing victims of untold travesties is totally not patriarchal, no, not at all).

Update: Ren clarifies that she hasn’t officially been uninvited yet. Apparently one of the students organizing the forum (the same group of students, btw, who brought the Sex Workers Art Show to W&M and had to deal w/ Foubert’s ensuing brouhaha) is trying to talk some sense into Sam Berg. We’ll see how that goes… I really, really hope they don’t let her walk all over everyone.

Once again, file under “Typical.”

I am not happy with the villifying of Seal Press I’ve seen in the blogosphere recently. No, not happy at all. There, I said it.

I wonder what people expect. And I mean realistic expectations. How would YOU react if you were Brooke and Krista? Seriously?

They are not this big mythical insulated power-house super-corporation. They are people. Just people. Like all the rest of us.

I guess I can relate because people have pulled shit like this with “criticizing” PodCamp Atlanta and Sex 2.0… and it’s like, HEY. This is a one-person operation. (And specific to these two cases, they are unconferences, so if you don’t like what’s going on, fix it instead of just complaining, like the guy who was whining about the sound quality on some of the podcasts.)

Also this irritates me because, well, Seal Press has done a lot for publishing women’s voices. And this is the kind of thing that just… does not sit well with me. It makes me itch.

Okay, that’s all I’ve got for now. I would say more but I’m afraid of people coming over here and trying to rip me a new asshole, and then expecting me to be all gracious about their “criticism.”

Also I am waiting for the BBC to call me back about a radio interview and trying not to freak out. Nerves, be calm! It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have any caffeine this morning. I hope my cell phone doesn’t lose reception when/if they call.

Today was a great day and I had a great time… eh, can you tell I’m exhausted by the fact that I’m not trying to think of more creative adjectives? I’m lying in bed in the hotel now, and it’s soooo nice. Tomorrow we have to get up early (unlike today where we slept in and ordered room service, finally making it to the conference at 11:00) and I definitely need some down-time after the hustle and bustle of the day.

We went to the WAM party tonight, for about an hour, even though both of us would’ve been okay w/ staying in the hotel room. I guess we felt we had to make an appearance - maybe Dacia moreso than I. But I was a little interested/excited to go, too… I guess I thought I would get to meet people or something. But who am I kidding… it sucked like all parties like that suck. Loud music, claustrophobic, hot…

I mean don’t get me wrong, I did meet a few cool people from Bitch magazine and had fun talking to them. They were super nice and so I am happy about that part. But the rest of it? Honestly, I just felt like a major loser. It sucked. I don’t know how to get over that or if I ever will/can - or if I should! Personally, I don’t think I should try… it’s just how I am. But there’s always so much pressure from people to be all extraverted and shit, and sometimes it does affect me a little even if I try not to let it.

Then there was this random girl (I don’t know who she was, anyway) who came up and inserted herself into the conversation w/ me, Dacia, and the Bitch ladies, and wanted to take a photo. Okay, cool. So we all stood together and smiled… then she shows the photo and it’s the three of them and not me. And it’s not like I was standing off to the side or something! She very deliberately cut me out, and I don’t understand why. Then she took a second version of the photo and did it again!! That’s really fucking weird to me. I felt like I was back in middle school and I was the social outcast that no one wanted to be seen with.

Anyway. Speaking of photos (and trying to end on a more positive note). I tried to get a lot of good “action shots” of the conference today, and I think I succeeded. Tomorrow I need to get someone to take a photo of me and Dacia looking sexy and awesome together. Also she gave me a bad-ass Waking Vixen T-shirt, so I need a photo of me wearing it.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s sessions. Did I mention that Cover It Live fucking rules?

Yesterday I went to see a psychiatrist, recommended by the therapist (a licensed clinical social worker) I’ve been seeing. The last time I saw a psychiatrist was when I was in college, and he’s the one who originally prescribed Wellbutrin for me. I don’t remember who prescribed it for me when I lived in Texas. When I moved to Atlanta, my primary care doctor started prescribing it for me, and admonishing me to see a therapist, since I wasn’t going to one at the time. A couple years ago that doctor stopped working after she had a baby, and the doctor’s office assigned me to another primary care doctor for insurance purposes, but I’ve never actually met the guy. Nevertheless, the office keeps refilling my prescription every time I call for refills.

All of this is to say, I’ve been on Wellbutrin now for about 5-6 years, and it’s been working great the whole time. But I knew that sooner or later I would have to see a real live doctor for med maintenance, as it’s called.

And more importantly, for the past several months - okay, going on a year now - there have been times when I’ve felt as if I might be sliding into depression. I can spot the warning signs, and I want to do everything possible to make sure I don’t end up there again; it’s not fun (obvious statement of the year). After talking with my therapist though, we both think it’s more anxiety than depression.

Oh, I should back up: a few months ago I started seeing a therapist again. She’s up in Dunwoody, and it takes two hours out of a workday for me to go see her (her office hours are exactly the same as mine). The office doesn’t file insurance, which pisses me off, because I have to file it myself, and so far I haven’t gotten any refund checks (the first time I mailed in my claims, and later called to see if they’d been received, and was told they had “no record” of the claims… no surprise there). Anyway, I really like this therapist, and I’ve been seeing her every other week; but I don’t know how long I’ll keep it up, with the travel time and the insurance pain in the ass.

There are a few psychiatrists at the office too, and she recommended I see one for a medication evaluation. So that’s what I did yesterday. The doctor decided to keep my current dosage of Wellbutrin and also add a small dosage of Lexapro, which is anti-anxiety medication. I’ll be getting that prescription filled this week, and within a few weeks to a month I should start to see results… hopefully good ones. She said Lexapro can cause nausea; I hope I don’t have that problem.

And can I just say, I am really irritated with therapists’ offices (or any doctors’ offices, but I’ve never known any other than psychologist/psychiatrist offices that act this way) that don’t file insurance for you. My therapist said, “There are just too many different types of insurance.” Well excuse me, that’s why there’s an office staff! My therapist in Texas (whom I loved; seriously, when I moved back to Georgia I wished I could take her with me) worked at an office a lot like this one, and they filed insurance with no problem. I think it’s presumptuous and lazy for them to expect patients to do it. I don’t know if I’ll ever see the refund checks for the appointments I’ve paid for so far, especially the $300 appointment yesterday. It just pisses me off, because I’m paying for insurance but of course they give you the run-around. (Again, why can’t everywhere be nice and responsive like USAA? Sad that service like that is a minority…)

Anyway, that’s that. I know I got off on a tangent, so this is partially an insurance rant and partially an update on my mental health situation. I’m publishing it now… without proofreading!

I am pissed off. And sad. At first I wasn’t even going to write anything tonight, because as I told Rusty earlier before he went to bed, I don’t like people who complain all the time, and I don’t like complaining all the time. I don’t like getting mired in negativity, especially when i know there is so much good stuff out there I should be focusing on. And yet, at what point does not dwelling on negativity become flat-out denial? I’m trying to be healthy. But maybe I’m going to the other extreme. Because sometimes it all hits me at once and I feel overwhelmed, like tonight, and honestly it’s a miracle that I didn’t cry when Rusty and I were talking earlier. I cry so easily. It’s always been something about myself that I’ve been embarrassed about. I cry at the least opportune moments, and I think it makes me look weak.

The whole reason I started my blog, back in April 2002, was to just talk about my life. Anything I wanted. Important stuff, silly stuff, random stuff, anything. My thoughts, opinions, etc. And for several years I never felt like I had to so carefully choose my words (well except re: stuff like the situation w/ my ex when all that was going down, but that’s a different kind of thing altogether). And now I feel like I can’t even right about THIS without people basically going, oh, boo-hoo, look at her, feeling sorry for herself, she thinks she’s got it so bad, well what about the limbless migrant workers in Mexico (or whatever), she has it so good compared to them…

Of course I do!

But Jesus! This blog is about ME! Or at least it’s supposed to be! And I’m not supposed to feel badly for writing about MY SHIT in MY SPACE (but not MySpace, ya understand; har har). And all the time I hear that echo in the back of my mind, from all those years ago… “Selfish! You’re so selfish! You think you have it so bad? A lot of people have it much worse that you! Stop being so selfish! And stop being so sensitive!”

I think I go in cycles, because for a few years there I thought I’d really gotten over and moved past that shit. But maybe you really never do get over it. An online friend emailed a week or so ago and mentioned things reopening old wounds. Maybe that’s what happened here.

And now I feel like nothing I can say will be right. And I just want to say FUCK IT! And yet another part of me wants to eternally explain, because if I could only explain clearly enough, surely everyone would understand, right? Except, no, they wouldn’t. Because they’re them and I’m me and never the twain shall meet.

I told Rusty the Sex 2.0 stuff is wearing me down. Once again I have done what I always do - pick up other people’s slack, and as usual, it’s taking its toll on me. I said from the beginning that I needed a lot of help on this, and yet, I haven’t gotten it; and so, what did I do? Suck it up and do it myself. Because otherwise the conference wouldn’t happen, and that would be MY fault.

I really do think Sex 2.0 is going to be a lot of fun and really interesting, but all the bullshit surrounding it lately (venue, money, etc.) is really dragging me down.

And then there’s the whole Creative Loafing thing, and the Midtown people (same shit-heads who shut down our Sex 2.0 venue), and all the people who are so hateful to sex workers… I want to help make good things happen, but I feel sometimes like nothign changes, no one listens. It’s so discouraging. I’m trying so hard. And for what?

There’s also shit going on w/ my family that I haven’t written about here, but is really weighing on me. Now that stuff, I don’t feel the same kind of bad oppressiveness of not being able to say what I want. The stuff I was writing about above is BLOG DRAMA… just look at the “Summation” post and you’ll get a hint of the massive headfuck of it all.

(And also, I’m afraid I might sound like the guys who act like assholes in feminist spaces. I don’t want to sound like those guys!! I can’t stand those guys!)

I *have* been tempted to write about some of the stuff w/ my family. but then I stop, because I know my mom reads this, at least once in a while, no matter what she might say to the contrary. It’s always in her browser history when I go to Augusta. I don’t really mind if she reads it, I just wish she woudln’t pretend like she doesn’t. I wish we could relate more on an adult level. We’ve made progress in the past several years, but… god, I’m 28 years old, isn’t it time to REALLY act like one adult talking to another?

Anyway, I have to admit, that there HAS been a lot of shit going on and it’s just all getting to be a bit much. THings have just been rough. But, also, I want to say, *everything* hasn’t been bad. I’m so fortunate to be with Rusty. I love him so much, and him being in my life makes everything about 100 times better - he even makes the already-awesome stuff 100 times better!

I am also thankful for Jenny, and I’m glad we’ve been chatting on GTalk, even though sometimes I have to sign off hastily because I can’t multi-task very well at work. She understands me and I trust her completely. She is awesome. (And I am so happy that she has a blog now… it cracks me up. I won’t link to it though, ’cause she might act all weird about that!)

So, yeah, there’s shit. But there’s also good. I don’t know what to do… I feel pulled in a ton of directons. I hope my new shrink will help me get some calmness in my life, but I’m not going to keep going to her if my insurance claims don’t go through. :p Why can’t they file insurance for you? I dont’ want to file my own fucking insurance, I’m sure I missed some tiny little checkbox and now they’re not going to reimburse me the hundred bucks.

Anyway. I should stop. This is totally stream of consciousness ranting, and I should probably break it up w/ a “more” link, but I’m not. I’m even resisting the urge to read back through it for typos and such. I still don’t feel like I’ve said everything, but at least I’ve said something. Hopefully soon I’ll be sleepy enough to climb into bed next to Rusty.

Most of the activism I am really passionate about is related to sexuality. That’s because I am simply unable to divorce sexuality from the rest of my being; it’s such a fundamental part of who I am, that I can’t imagine just taking it on and off like a jacket. I’m not good at compartmentalizing, and I don’t think it should be a requirement for social justice activism. “Yes, work for social justice - as long as you keep this part of you that kind of makes us uncomfortable out of it.”

I can’t do that. To be human is to be sexual; even people who identify as asexual are claiming an identity regarding their sexuality. One of the quotes in my header quote rotation is from Kochanie, and it sums up my feeling on the matter: “I am sex, I am my body, and my sex, my mind and my body have never been separate.”

There’s been a lot of talk here lately about sex work, and I know some people are wondering why I am so passionate about sex workers’ rights activism, in particular. I’ll list a few reasons:*
Read the full post »

I am so angry I can barely see straight.

I’ve already Twittered about it. I will blog about it eventually. But I need to wait until my hands stop shaking, my heart stops pounding, and my stomach stops doing somersaults.

You want to know why I’m burned out on activism? Perfect fucking example.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

More to come, eventually. But right now, I need a DISTRACTION in a big way.

Another example of online “feminists” eating their own. God!! I am so disgusted with this. And especially with the fact that she posted this the day after International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers. Whatever you do, ladies, don’t get successful, unless you clear it with everyone else in the fucking world to make sure it meets their approval.

The worst part about the post is that Holly, the blogger, says this:

Clearly, some of my ire should be vented at whatever idiot interviewed her.

Duh! How about, all of your ire should be vented at the idiot who interviewed her?? (There’s no doubt that the interviewer was idiotic; same old drooling dumbass shit about “OMG a stripper! OMG she has tattoos! OMG we’ll be titillating and edgy but in a stunted adolescent way!”)

And yet… no. That’s not the tack Holly takes. She doesn’t even focus the bulk of the post on analysis of the film (because, uh, she hasn’t seen it yet). Instead she gripes about Diablo Cody’s personal choices.

Fuck that noise.

FWIW, I can’t wait to see Juno, and I think Diablo Cody is a bad-ass.

Yeah, so if you’re wondering why I’m feeling like throwing in the towel (which I won’t do, but it’s how I’m feeling), it’s because I’ve been treated like day-old shit by people I care(d?) about and who I thought cared about me. I no longer feel welcome in many of the online spaces I considered “safe.” I probably won’t be commenting hardly anywhere anymore (and already my commenting was low, due to reading most blogs via RSS). There are two blogs where I explicitly know that I am still welcome, but the others? Nope. Not bothering.

You know what, it is not easy for me to trust people. Some pretty major things have happened in my life, that not a lot of people know about (what?? I don’t blog about everything that’s ever happened in my life??) that have made it very difficult for me to trust people - because too often I have trusted and then had that trust utterly smashed to shit, thrown in my face and been made a fool of. Another thing I HATE is double standards. And I don’t play nice when people fuck with my trust and try to impose arbitrary standards. I get angry, and yeah, I’m a Scorpio, so I can hold a grudge. And I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. It keeps me smart.

There’s been offline/IRL shit going on too, and like Jenny mentioned in a comment on another post, most of it has been unbloggable, for months now. This latest stupid fucking drama bullshit (which technically I could blog about, but for reasons unknown I’m trying to take the high road) is just the latest in a litany of crap and it’s The Proverbial Straw, as they say.

I’ll probably be pruning the blogroll. Oh, and whenever I do write blog posts, I’m going to write about what I want - the issues that matter to ME. I don’t want anyone telling me what they think I SHOULD be blogging about. Get your own blog.

Just now, I happened upon yet another self-identified feminist blogger ranting about how pole dancing isn’t feminist, and she has “criticisms” of it, and being generally dismissive of it.

Well, if you’re listening…

FUCK OFF. You and your “criticisms” are not welcome here, that’s for sure!

You know what pole dancing has done for ME?

I’m stronger - yes, physically stronger - than I’ve ever been in my life. I no longer feel like the weakling that anyone can take advantage of. My arms, legs, and abs are toned, and my entire body feels STRONG. Along with that, I feel emotionally and mentally strong, and I feel confident in a way I never did before. (All these things are tied together; I can’t separate them out into individual bits.)

Guess what? It’s no frilly tee-hee sparklepony game to climb a 14-foot pole, hang backwards from it holding on with just your thighs, go upside down and hold on with one leg… need I go on?

/rant off. Back to happy! :D

This makes me really angry.

They are making fun of Johnna Mink, making fun of feminism, making fun of pole dancing, and making fun of the crazy idea that maybe, JUST MAYBE, the whole smart/sexy dichotomy is stupid. In 3½ minutes, that video manages to reinforce practically every negative stereotype about pole dancing, women who pole dance, feminists, and more. Overall it’s damn misogynistic.

And yeah, I know, the Colbert Report is all satire. THAT’S WHY WE LOVE IT. But this? This is not making fun of the stereotypes.

This is making fun of women who pole dance, and laughing at the idea of it as something (god forbid) empowering. Same old, same old. The mock-news-segment is called “Difference Makers” - you know, women who matter, women who are doctors, lawyers, politicians… oh, except, there’s a pole dancer! Teehee! Isn’t that funny! They juxtapose a student saying, “The spins are the most empowering” with a shot of her doing a V-spin - and it’s clear we’re all supposed to laugh. And, of course, they make it look easy, like it’s something anyone can just walk up and do. Which is exactly what most people think of pole dancing already.

The message is clear: Johnna Mink and her students aren’t “difference makers.” Not really. (’Cause, see, it’s satire, folks!) The men like ‘em because it’s ALL ABOUT THE MEN (why wouldn’t it be?) and these women are just deluded and stupid. Stupid for pole dancing, and even stupider for finding it empowering.

I just had to let that rant out, because this kind of thing gets me fuming, and also makes me very sad.

And, even though for the most part I’ve given up “pre-emptive notes” at the end of posts, opting instead to simply delete comments from people who are stuck in a horrible Groundhog Day-esque loop of 7th grade, I’m adding one here, just because. So! Don’t come around here and tell me I’m “too sensitive” or I should “get a sense of humor” or I’m “reading too much into it,” etc. As if I’ve never heard any of THAT before. And as if that doesn’t exemplify a very relevant point about women’s voices being trivialized and dismissed.

Okay. Now that that’s out, I can get back to positive things.

(I originally wrote this in an email, but then I decided, hey, I should just put it up as a blog post.)

I read something a while back from radfem blogger (damned if I can remember who it was; I’ll have to go Googling) talking about how she was a conscientious objector to taxes, and she got so pissed because her dad ended up paying her taxes for her.

:|

Okay first of all, how do you get away w/ not paying taxes? I’m sorry, but the IRS sure as shit knew about it when I forgot to include one of my W-2s in 2004. (Took ‘em almost two years to contact me, but they did eventually!) And that was for a relatively paltry sum.

And, plus… sure, it sucks that some of our tax money goes to fund things like the war… but I really do think it’s like voting. Don’t vote? Don’t complain. I pay taxes and that makes me even more invested in caring about where that money goes. If I could, I’d divide it out and tell the government, “Give all my tax dollars to social services and education, NOT the war.” But, I can’t. So I do what little I can.

Grrrr.