Being Amber Rhea

As you’ve seen if you read my Twitter tweets, a few days ago BlogHer Atlanta, along with the three other Southern locations of the BlogHer Reach Out tour (Greensboro, Nashville, New Orleans) has been canceled.

:( :( :(

(I guess this means I don’t have to worry about writing that other post where I talk about how I found people’s reactions to my panel announcement to be weird and hurtful!)

I’m going to try to cover as much as possible in this post - and there’s a lot to cover. Admittedly it might not be the best time for me to be writing it, as I’ve just taken a Klonopin and drank some sort of espresso/mint concocation, discovered a mysterious crack in my car windshield, fought for 15 minutes to unstick my parking break, and am generally freaking out about staying in Augusta for another two days while Rusty is in Knoxville. I really really don’t want to, but I know I’ll end up staying - at least til Saturday evening. You would think my dad died yesterday with the way my moods are all over the place. So, yeah, maybe not the best time. BUT, I don’t want to keep putting it off, and I’m in this Metro Coffeehouse and it seems (for the time being, anyway; that may change when these fratty-looking fools who just walked in start shooting pool) like a conducive place for blogging - moreso than my mom’s living room, for some reason.

ANYWAY. Onward to BlogHer stuff. If I leave something out, it’s just an oversight, as there’s a lot of related stuff swimming around in my head, and I’ll probably do a follow-up post in that case.

Also none of this is a personal dig at Elisa Camahort, who I think is great. BUT I do think BlogHer as an organization handled this situation poorly, and I feel I have the right to share that criticism, and hopefully they will be receptive.

The official explanation was inadequate “sponsor and community support” in these cities. I think this is an unfair and dishonest way of rhetorically shifting the blame to the communities. We have LOTS of community support for social media here in Atlanta. If the problem is lack of sponsor dollars, that’s not the same thing as lack of community support. Yes, I know it says “sponsor AND community support,” but the way that’s worded, the conflation is bound to happen whether it’s intentional or not.

Also you simply cannot have the same expectations for Atlanta that you have for LA, San Francisco, or New York. We have a thriving social media community here, BUT it does not (nor should it) look like the scenes in those cities. That doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a chance. And it feels pretty shitty to constantly get passed by. I remember when I was in the early planning stages of Sex 2.0, somebody (Melissa, maybe? I can’t remember) suggested I move it to San Francisco to coincide w/ Arse Elektronika or the Folsom Street Fair or something. My answer was an emphatic NO! I live in Atlanta, so why would I hold a conference that’s my brainchild in another city? Also, I am sick and tired of EVERYTHING being in California and New York. There are other places out there, believe it or not, and a lot of ‘em are pretty darn cool. As Jen said on Twitter: “Assuming that said community support doesn’t exist, how it (sic) one supposed to build it up without conferences?”

Basically I think BlogHer was aiming to do too much too soon w/ these Reach Out tours. Yes, it is definitely awesome that they provide breakfast and lunch at their conferences; but that’s not necessary. Cocktail parties are also nice, but again, not necessary. Sex 2.0 didn’t have any of those frills and it was a blast - because of the people and energy in attendance. That’s what will truly make or break any event.

Another issue may have been purely logistical; Darcey pointed out on Twitter, “Maybe has to do with the conference being held for one day during middle of the weel (sic)? Maybe if it were a Friday, would be diff.” I think there’s definitely some truth to that - it can be hard for people to get time off work.

I don’t know if I can convey how much I was looking forward to this panel. And we had some really awesome panelists lined up: yours truly (duh), Tiffany Brown, Amy Davis, and Callie Simms, with Elisa moderating. An excellent diversity of opinions and experiences, and only one panelist was not from Atlanta. To recap, this was the panel description:

The “Naked” Blogging Double Standard
At just about every BlogHer event we end up discussing the ramifications of “naked” blogging; that is, blogging your true self. Blogging’s low barrier to entry has provided a platform for everyone, and particularly women, to tell our own stories, to create a more diverse cultural record than has been historically typical, and to own our experiences and how transparently we choose to share those experiences. Every blogger draws their boundaries differently. In a survey BlogHer conducted a couple of years ago bloggers indicated that it was more taboo to discuss finances on their blog than sex! But, let’s get real: Really? We’re not sure we’re buying it. Is anyone else out there blown away by how much conflict the issues of gender, sex and sexuality (and society’s expectations of how women “should” behave) still stir up… and by how much judgment is still thrown at women who ignore the admonishment that “nice girls don’t?”

Every year at BlogHer the debate rages: Can we talk about shoes and still be taken seriously? Well, let’s take it a step further: Can women talk openly about sex and still be taken seriously? And is it different for men? Women certainly don’t agree on the answer, so you can be sure the answer is even more unclear in segments of society, industry and the blogosphere that are more male-dominated. How do we challenge that status quo - and support women in their choices, even when they might not be our choices? Join Amber Rhea, one of the women leading the charge for change, in a frank discussion designed to expose the naked blogging double standard and challenge our preconceived notions of what it means to be taken seriously.

I feel VERY passionately about this topic, and I don’t see it being discussed very many places. (And by “very many places” I mean “at all.”) I was SO looking forward to having a somewhat formal panel of questions, also with time for plenty of audience input and sharing of experiences, on this very important and under-explored topic, in a space with primarily women who blog or use social media in other ways.

I’ll be leading a session next weekend at BlogOrlando on a somewhat-related topic; hence:

Professionalism 2.0
What does “professionalism” mean in the context of blogging? Is it a matter of the topics you write about, the language you use, the amount of research you put into a typical post - or all or none of the above? Social media tools offer us the opportunity to express our full humanity instead of compartmentalizing aspects of who we are. To what degree do we need to adjust our pre-conceived notions about what’s professional and what isn’t?

And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m not excited about this, because I definitely am. But it won’t be a mostly-women space, and thus the conversation won’t center on how these deeply entrenched and unexamined biases affect us as women online, and how we (consciously or unconsciously) replicate existing arbitrary standards among ourselves. It will also be an unconference format (which, duh, I love) so there won’t be a formal panel with a moderator, and I think this particular topic is one that is well-served by having a bit of structure.

Elisa mentioned in an email to me that she really likes the topic and hopes I will consider bringing it to BlogHer ‘09. At this point, I don’t know. It kind of feels like, “Sorry you couldn’t present this in your own community and engage the opinions of local social media participants; but hey, fly your ass all the way to California and do it here, because this is the place that really matters.”

Not a good feeling. Once again the South is passed over, deemed “not good enough.”

And it’s not just me who’s sad - a lot of people on Twitter and in email were conveying their disappointment.

Now, I also want to be kind of devil’s advocate here - or not really devil’s advocate, but just address some things that would be valid criticisms if I left it just at this. First of all, it annoyed the shit out of me when I saw people whining and complaining on Twitter about BlogHer ATL being “too expensive.” Well, what do you expect? Do you really expect to be handed an awesome event on a platter for free? If it pisses you off that much, try organizing your own event and then maybe you’ll see how it’s not exactly a walk in the park. The two conferences I’ve organized, which are much smaller in scale than BlogHer ATL would have been (although, tangent: there’s no reason it couldn’t have been on that smaller scale, and in fact originally I thought that was the whole point of the Reach Out tour) drained me completely, so that I will never do anything like that again. And guess what, that shit COSTS MONEY. Even Sex 2.0, where we had no frills whatsoever, cost just over $4,000 - and there were STILL people bitching about paying the $40 admission!! (And you know how much I hate the word “bitching,” so I must be pretty worked up to use it here.) I just get so damn irritated with people who just expect that everything should be handed to them and wah wah wah if it costs “too much.” Fuck that. You want community events, let’s sack up and make ‘em happen - and quit whining!

But all that being said, I do think BlogHer could have (and should have) scaled back the event and then the admission would’ve been able to be lower and then more people might have signed up. Of course, you can’t make people go to anything - and lord knows I’ve dealt with more than my share of lazy asses who say they’ll do something or come to something and then they JUST DON’T - but that might have helped a bit. And then next year people might be willing to pay more for an event with more frills. (Keep in mind, too, that salaries and such in Atlanta aren’t what they are in LA!)

And now I have totally lost my train of thought. There was more I wanted to say, and certainly some of the above that I didn’t say nearly as eloquently as I should. I’ll go ahead and stop for now, though, and put this up in its imperfect state, and let the flamage commence, I guess. I better go get a chicken salad sandwich at New Moon… all I’ve had to eat all day is a banana and a plum, and that can’t be helping my frazzled state.

Overall I am just really, really sad about BlogHer Atlanta being canceled. I’m not sure many people truly understood how important this was to me. Now I don’t know if I’ll ever get a chance to hold a forum on this topic that I’m so passionate about.

Something I find interesting and disturbing is how freely people of my generation give out their social security numbers. (I do it myself all the time!) Think about it, how often when you call customer service for somewhere like a bank, or a cable company, or any other place where you have an account do they ask to “verify your social security number?” Some people even use it as their driver’s license number. When I was in grad school, I remember our awesome CS professor, Dr. Dan, telling us that an important rule of designing good web apps was that under no circumstances should a person’s social security number be used as a username, password, or any other type of identity verification. This is what leads to the ease of identity theft, and anyway, social security numbers were never meant to be personal identification numbers, although that’s basically what they’ve come to be. (And I can understand the rationale - it’s easy, everyone has a unique SSN, it’s assigned by the Federal government, so why not use it as an ID?)

One thing that really struck me and made me realize that this cavalier attitude toward SSNs is a phenomenon among younger people was back in December/January, when I was dealing with all that AT&T bullshit for my grandmother. (Not sure if I ever wrote about it here; I think I Twittered about it, at least; but mad props to Darcey’s boyfriend for finally getting that shit sorted out, as it took absurdity to new depths of cartoonishness.) When I would call AT&T they would constantly be asking for her social security number. It didn’t matter that I gave them her name, address, account numbers, phone number, explained that I was her granddaughter and she’s in her 80s and doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with this fucking bullshit which even I could barely make heads nor tails of… no, they wanted that magic, golden social security number! So I called Gran and asked her if she’d give it to me. She refused. She even refused to give me just the last four digits. She said she’d never associated her SSN w/ her account anyway, because it’s not something she gives out.

I found that to be really interesting and important to think about, how protective she is of it, not even revealing it to me, her granddaughter, whom she pretty much thinks can do no wrong. Also, on a somewhat related note, she had been getting phone calls from people trying to scam her out of her MasterCard number, saying they were from magazine companies and such; she saw right through it. I think sometimes we don’t give older folks enough credit - we assume they’re stupid or naïve in matters like this. But in many ways they can be more responsible than people our age!

What do y’all think about the social security number thing? (And of course, if you don’t live in the US, I’m sure you DGAS!)

Just a couple other things, then I should get ready for bed. When I think about all the day-to-day, deeply entrenched, utterly unquestioned sexism in our society,* I get really sad. It’s another reason I just can’t participate in all the drama of various blogs, and certainly not in most political events of any sort. (Sex, Wine and Chocolate being an exception… gotta buy my tickets for this year, and you should too!) When I hear people being so dismissive about sexism, using oppressed people as punchlines for their unfunny jokes, refusing to listen to someone else’s lived experience, immediately dismissing anything associated w/ the name “feminism,” and just generally being jackasses, sure, on one level it makes me angry; but mostly it makes me profoundly sad. And I don’t know what to do with that. I have a history of internalizing my anger and sadness in self-destructive ways, so I have to resist my old patterns; and yet still I’m left wondering, mouth agape and arms wide open, what do I do with… this massive, overwhelming THIS?

Here are two posts from my archives as examples of what makes me feel so sad and dragged down:

• September 22, 2006: Cruel and Unusual
• November 17, 2006: More hell yes

On some level I have that doe-eyed idealistic hippie thing going on: I want to make the world a better place. I truly do. I want the world to be a place where people respect each other, listen to each other, and learn and grow from that listening. But too often people are just shouting over each other trying to see who will be the loudest, with the same voices always “winning.”

Lastly, I’ve been unhappy with the way a lot of people have reacted to my news of my BlogHer Atlanta panel. It’s really bizarre, actually: when I first announced it, immediately the responses came in of why people can’t go. The justifications, almost being too quick to say they can’t come and here are all the reasons why. Not a simple “congratulations” or “that sounds cool” or “I’m happy for you”; no, it was all, “I can’t come.” To me this defies basic decency and common sense. That is not how you act to a friend. More on this later though, I’m too tired to write anymore of it for now… I’m all drained after writing about the sexism stuff.

* I’m sick of using the phrase “in our society” - but I can’t think of a better one. Ideas?

I know I should be glad men are writing about sexism in tech (and I am) but stuff like this always kinds of annoys me too. The person who marked it for me in del.cio.us (btw, I can’t remember who this person actually is; their del.icio.us handle isn’t one they use elsewhere, apparently!) said this:

Hmm. Good article, but I find myself not wanting to link to Yet Another Man Discovering the Issue (sigh). Still, the code-of-conduct proposed seems pretty good, and at least he links out to women in his post.

It is a good post, and I’m not annoyed at the post itself (because as I’ve said before, it’s vitally important for men to talk to other men about sexism), but rather the culture around such posts, I guess is what you would call it. It’s like, it’s only taken seriously when a man writes about it; when a woman does, we’re just whiny bitches. Which is the whole point, but irony is lost.

So a few days ago Grayson was kicked off the front page of Peach Pundit. I don’t read Peach Pundit, because I find the place toxic and can’t bear to be there for even a few seconds without feeling ill (and no, I’m not exaggerating), so I wouldn’t have known if someone else hadn’t told me. Frankly I don’t understand why so many people seem to bow to Peach Pundit even though it’s blatantly obvious that the place is not trying to be some comprehensive resource for Georgia politics, and exists only as a place for the nastiest version of the old boys club, moved online, to jerk themselves off and feel better about themselves by hurling around schoolyard insults. Problem being, of course, that when you’re in a position of power and privilege relative to those who are on the receiving end of the hurling, it’s not something that can be written off with “just ignore it” or “they’re just idiots.” I mean, they are idiots, but they’re idiots whose words and actions can have real-world effects. This is why the “just ignore it” trope never worked for me. (Well, this and other, related reasons.) Not everyone has the luxury of “just ignoring it” - because if you do, something terrible and very real might happen.

That said, I do my best to “ignore it” by simply not visiting Peach Pundit. I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment without adding that heaping mound of BS. There isn’t room in my brain to deal with the drama of a bunch of disaffected white guys who totally aren’t sexist, so why don’t you shut up about it already… geez why are you so oversensitive, you humorless bitch? Also, you’re ugly, and probably a lesbian (because that would be the worst thing!), and I would never fuck you (such a loss!), etc. etc.

This is my lived experience. This is the lived experience of countless other women. No, you do not get to question it or invalidate it. THIS IS MY TRUTH. IT IS REAL.

So anyway, I didn’t know about Grayson being kicked off until Rusty told me about it. I thought, “Huh, that’s fucked up” but didn’t think more because like I said, there’s just not room in my brain right now for the PP bullshit - I have more important things I need to think about. I never understood why Grayson wrote there in the first place; the few times I would go over to PP (before I imposed a self-ban for the sake of my mental health) I would see her getting attacked and abused constantly, and no one did a damn thing about it. As for why she continued to write there, the only thing I could think was it was like Melissa’s reason for persevering at Valleywag (a place I find comparably hostile, if not as openly Republican):

My tactic has been to go ahead and take my stories where they dare not go, breaking with this whole “pink ghetto” nonsense as a game — I want to see what happens when I refuse to believe that there’s a certain way to be authentic and there’s a certain “right” audience for my work. Being a whore has made me very, very comfortable with letting people think I’m everything they want me to be for them, even as I’m doing (mostly) what I please.

And I really respect that. Coincidentally, Melissa put up that post right around the time I quit Download Squad. Some people can stand up to that sort of abuse, and not let it get them down, and stay focused on what they’re trying to do, and hopefully reach even just 1 person out of 1,000. I can’t. I don’t think that makes me weak or not as good of a writer/blogger/idealist/whatever or not as dedicated… or whatever else people might be prone to say. Those accusations are the easy way out, the way to cast judgment without taking a deeper look at all the layers of a situation.

Going back to Melissa’s quote above, the part I’m not comfortable with is letting people think I’m a [x], when really I’m doing my own thing. I have my moments; in certain situations, I can handle that. But overall? I have this need for people to understand, and anything else feels out of whack in my system, and I can’t deal. I know that’s a hindrance to me, because there are some people who just won’t understand, plain and simple, because of their own shit, no matter how much I try to explain and be clear and find the point of communication breakdown. I wish I could get over that, though, because I know it’s pragmatism (which I am a huge fan of); that’s how you get what you need done. I guess for me, getting what I need done has to take other avenues, for now.

As for Grayson’s situation at Peach Pundit, let me be very clear(!) that this has fuck-all to do with the substance of her writing there: was it on topic, was it off topic, was it inflammatory, blah blah blah. I don’t know, because I didn’t read it; and I don’t care. It’s immaterial to my concerns. To try to drag that into the conversation is to divert attention from the larger issue and to move dangerously close to “blame the victim” territory. What I care about is the pattern of behavior. This is how women are treated online. This is the same old shit over and over again, regardless of the particulars of the situation of the moment. This is how male bloggers go around their ass to get to their elbow, anything, my god, to avoid admitting that yeah, there’s a gendered explanation for what they’re doing, and the problem is with them, and it’s not okay.

This exhausts me. I don’t know how many times I have to repeat the same basic shit. And it’s not about my personal feelings for one blogger or another. It’s about a pattern of behavior. I can hardly even bear to type this because it feels so ridiculously repetitive - and it just upsets me. A lot.

Here’s an IM conversation between Rusty and me, from a few days ago. Ideally, I would write a totally well-thought-out, well-written post based on this conversation, complete with links and citations and references; instead, I’m letting it stand alone.

[15:55] Rusty: saw the email re: grayson…on one hand feel sort of bad for piling on, but on the other can’t really help but be a little disappointed that she got pretty viciously personal about it
[15:56] Amber: yeah, but i don’t think it’s really an appropriate time to focus on that. it reminds me of ppl who try to pretend all things are equal when they’re not. it’s like, why focus on that (whcih sucked and was uncalled for, no one is denying that) and not the MOUNTAIN of SHIT they’ve heaped on her?
[15:57] Amber: it’s like, you do one little thing that’s “out of line” when you’re dealing with people shitting all over you, and THAT is what gets focused on/ called out. i’ve seen it a lot ’round my blogosphere travels, and it bothers me.
[15:59] Rusty: thing is, she has been writing tons of irrelevant posts on the site..and yeah, other people write some, but with her it was like more than half her posts were that way…erick has been kind of spineless about reigning that in, hence exposing her to a lot of abuse that could have been avoided
[16:00] Amber: well see, i think that’s erick’s fault
[16:00] Amber: it’s his responsibility, as editor, to tell ppl when they are writing off topic stuff and make sure they don’t continue
[16:00] Rusty: yeah, which is something I mentioned in my blog post
[16:01] Amber: i know, which further shows that the playing field isn’t even. it’s like, why focus on her remark, rather than his lack of holding up his responsibilities, and then just pulling the plug? that was a shitty and unprofessional (and he wants to be “professional” which is why i pull that out) thing to do
[16:04] Rusty: it was still an uncool remark that I can’t let slide without saying something, even all other things considered…how devastating would it be if someone started talking her and her kid? I don’t think that’s acceptable under any circumstance
[16:05] Amber: it’s not acceptable, and i don’t disagree w/ that. but why let all of the other bullshit abuse she’s taken slide, and not this?
[16:05] Rusty: I don’t think I’m letting it slide
[16:06] Amber: it’s been going on for months… so my thing is, when ppl do this, it’s like, ok, yeah, that one thing was shitty, but how about this mountaitn of shit that’s been going on for a long time and is much worse? why did that never warrant a calling-out? why pile on the person being shat on at this particular time?
[16:07] Rusty: well, take the thing with jefferson…lots of people have been letting a lot of shitty behavior slide for a long time and are just now talking about it publicly..you included…that doesn’t invalidate any of it
[16:08] Amber: i see this as a different situation, bc jefferson has a court case going on with real-world implications and is asking for money
[16:09] Amber: i think what pushed a lot of ppl over the edge w/ him is that he’s asking for $20,000
[16:10] Rusty: yeah, certainly that’s greater motivation than in this case…but sometimes it takes a big public display to draw those comments out
[16:11] Amber: i think in the case w/ grayson, it’s pretty lopsided
[16:11] Amber: i’ve just seen this happen far too often in some of the blog circles i frequent, esp. with women… it happened to me at download squad, for example
[16:12] Amber: ppl left some vile, misogynistic comments on my post - personal comments -and nobody said a word. but the minute i did something i maybe shouldn’t have - twittered that the commenters were assholes - everybody was all over my shit
[16:12] Amber: now you tell me that’s fair
[16:16] Rusty: nope, not fair at all…and I’m not at all arguing that grayson has been treated fairly there…she hasn’t…but while erick may be tangentially responsible for some vile things said to her through his editorial negligence, he never personally attacked her…and she brought his parenting into it…I still think that’s beyond the pale even given the history
[16:19] Amber: he never personally attacked her, but he never defended her, either. and in a way that’s worse. at download squad, grant never personally attacked me, but he never stepped in to say anything to the misogynistic commenters, either - and as editor that was his responsibility. and i think that’s worse. it stinks.
[16:21] Rusty: it’s definitely shitty. but again, I’m disappointed that she went there because it makes the job of defending her very difficult. it was a fucked up thing to say
[16:23] Amber: it totally was. and i thnk there’s a way to point that out w/o making it seem slanted like “let’s focus on this one thing she said while people were treating her like garbage”. there’s a way to say that personal attacks are uncalled for, and use that as one example - but point out that the MOUNTAIN of unprovoked, awful comments she endured for months with no defense are a million other examples, and the silence on the matter has been deafening
[16:25] Rusty: I think I tried to acknowledge that in my post
[16:25] Rusty: I think there are problems with Peach Pundit, and that Grayson has taken abuse there that is disproportionate to any wrongs she is alleged to have committed prior to today.
[16:26] Amber: i just don’t think that point has been made - by anyone, me included, and that’s my bad bc i’ve been meaning to write on it, and now this happens - strongly enough
[16:27] Amber: women take this kind of abuse online all the fuckin time and if we dare talk about it we’re told we’re whiners and we can’t take the heat and we need to grow a thick skin… i’m fucking sick to death of it

Erick never personally attacked her. Grant never personally attacked me. Oh great. Do they get a medal?

*sigh* I don’t know what else to say. I need to lie down. Would I handle this better if I weren’t in the middle of dealing w/ grief? Maybe. But if I’m totally honest… probably not. It would still twist itself up in my gut, sitting there and eating at me and making me feel awful.

I’m putting this up without proofreading. Just, there. Now, I’ll go rest for a while before we go to Home Depot to get something to hang the bird feeder on, so the squirrels won’t steal seed from the bird friends that visit our balcony. Like this one, from Flickr user stewickie:

I figured it would be good to end on a happy note, with a photo of a bird!

So, we have this:

For God’s sake you and Ren are the most negative, rage-filled bloggers I know for all your raving about sex ‘positive’ this and that. Like taking every single critical thought about sex positve as personal attacks against your desire to pole dance (did anyone criticize you for pole dancing by the way? I missed that part) or do sex work. Banging your heads constantly against that brick wall of how stuuuuuupppppiiiiid everyone is for not comprehensively understanding the terminology and the meeeaanning and history of “sex positive.” Who fucking cares? Be a feminist and enjoy your pole dancing and write something about how women are being treated outside blogland. Between Twitter updates and disecting comments from ‘radfem’ blogs, your blog has gone down.

So, anonymous commenter, does dissecting comments in my moderation queue that talk about how much this blog sucks because I spend so much time disecting [sic] radfem comments (funny, I thought my high point with that was around mid-2006) further contribute to the downward slide of my blog? Congratulations, we’ve just gone meta!

The possible perceived irony is not lost on me that I am posting the comment here as a jumping-off point for a post, but won’t be letting it out of the moderation queue to show up where this person tried to post it. Well, I don’t care.

And that (”Well, I don’t care”) would typically be the extent of my reaction to such a comment anyway - I mean really, I don’t understand what motivates people to leave such comments (especially anonymously; if you really feel that strongly, at least have the guts to put your name to your words). If you find yourself “bored to death” (this is the clever little fake email address the person entered; boredtodeath@brickwall.com, to be exact, brought to you courtesy of IP address 67.159.46.12) with a blog and think the blog has “gone down,” then truly, I cannot understand the motivation to leave a comment saying as much. To me the solution is simple: STOP READING THAT BLOG. No one’s putting a gun to your head and forcing you to read it, and anyway, as I’ve said countless times, the primary reason this blog exists is for ME, not for anyone else. Or, as Pink would say, “I’m not here for your entertainment.” You don’t like Twitter updates? You don’t like dissection of radfem comments? *shrug* The door’s thattaway, I won’t miss you.

Some things truly do just roll right off me. I think that under normal circumstances, the above comment would. But maybe not, who knows. Because, even under normal circumstances (whatever those are - but I mean, when I’m not dealing with some major life upheaval, I guess) there are some comments that even though objectively I know I shouldn’t give a shit about, because who the fuck is this person and why would I care what they think and it doesn’t matter anyway - well, the comment will get under my skin anyway. I’ll feel that familiar “sting,” that’s the only way I can describe it. And rather than try to quell those reactions, walk it off, suck it up, tell myself it doesn’t matter, I think it’s better to allow myself to feel what I’m feeling, and explore why a particular comment hurts me when another, objectively comparable comment does not. I’m a fan of the introspection and examination, after all (which is why radfems who constantly implore sex-positive feminists to do more “examining” really make my blood boil!).

This comment above, when I first saw it earlier today, made me want to cry. I don’t accept the “If you get upset the bully has won” line. I also don’t believe that crying equals weakness. I could puff out my chest and protect myself with snark and pretend like it didn’t affect me, but the truth is, that comment made me sad. Angry, too, definitely; but sadness was the immediate feeling that swept over me.

I’m on this new/old pursuit of trying to write as if no one is reading. That’s why I started this blog: to write for me. Granted, I won’t do some of the stupid things I did at first, bless my heart, like mention my employer, talk about the details of their ordering system and why it sucks, mention my boss by name and talk about why she sucks, etc. But hey, it was 2002 and not many people were reading blogs - such as, fortunately, the manager of the Borders in Athens!

Oops, digression. But as I was saying, I’m trying to get back to writing for me and no one else - but when I get comments like this, it shakes me up and reminds me that yes, there are people reading, and some of them are downright despicable and will try to hurt me. Either they don’t think of me as a person with feelings (I guess for some people the internet really does lead to depersonalization?) or, more disturbingly, they know full well I’m a person with feelings but they don’t care and they WANT to hurt me. And yes, I know that says much more about them than it does about me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m hurting.

Believe me, I have plenty of experience with people being malicious toward me for being openly and unashamedly sexual, for being a feminist, for refusing to “know my place” or laugh at their stupid, offensive jokes. So while I understand that this kind of vitriol/backlash/hatefulness happens often and to many people, when I really think about it I still cannot really understand WHY someone would feel the need to lash out at someone for being a feminist, for example. What are they so scared of? (And yes, I know full well what they’re scared of - not that they’d ever admit it. But still, what makes people, even if they’re scared, lash out like that in such an unthinking way?)

As to this particular comment: Did anyone criticize me for pole dancing? Oh, honey, you did miss that part, didn’t you! I have a whole stable of comments from people telling me just how deluded I am, and won’t I please examine some more, and WHY do I do it, c’mon, explain WHY, because the fifty explanations prior weren’t good enough, and apparently I DO have to provide explanations on demand, because if I don’t then it just shows how defensive and insecure I am, and certainly a point-blank “fuck you” would be totally inappropriate…

Maybe one day I will get to a place where all or most of these comments roll right off of me, instead of just some. I’m working on it.

All this reminds me, I have another post started in draft mode about how I think people should be nicer in general, and I don’t buy the “proud New Yorker” thing some people do where they’re like, I’m an asshole and I’m proud of it, I’m going to be blunt, so there! I think that sucks. I don’t think bluntness by itself is anything to be proud of, although at times it can be (e.g., calling out BS, not sugar-coating difficult truths, not gossiping behind people’s backs). Again: context, people. I should finish that post.

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.

I realize I haven’t put up a real blog post in a week. In a way that feels like ages ago, in another way it feels like mere minutes ago. Same as always; I won’t go off on the tired old babbling about the subjective, convoluted nature of time.

So much to say but I don’t even know where to start. I’ve had trouble falling asleep all week, and many nights I’ve written ridiculously long blog posts in my head as I lay awake in the dark. I’ve also been drinking too much sweet tea over the past few days, left over from Tuesday’s delicious catering from Wife Saver; but I know my fitful sleep is attributable to far more than just extra caffeine.

If I’d had any forethought (but how could I have?) I would’ve brought my old-school paper journal with me to Chicago, meaning I’d have it here with me now, and I could be scribbling in it whenever the spirit moves. I know I’ll be doing a fair amount of that when I get home. And I also know I need to do more writing here, and it needs to come from the gut, without a filter; I guess death always makes you reassess things and realize, starkly, how short and fleeting life can be. So I need to write here for the reason I started this blog: for ME. I need to write in MY style, which admittedly others won’t always grok. But that’s okay. Because it’s not about them. And all of this has made me feel like I can do it, must do it, write for my life, without worrying about who I might piss off or what some nebulous “they” might think.

It feels weird to know that I’m going home tomorrow. It’s been over a week since I’ve been home, slept in my own bed, seen my finches, watched my Tivo, sat at my desk… it’s been over two weeks since I’ve been to work. I know getting back into the swing of things will feel good. But like I said, it also just feels weird. Everything has felt so surreal this week. I feel like things are in a state of suspended animation and I’m moving in slow motion… that’s the best way I can describe it, and even that is not totally accurate. I don’t know when I’ll come out of this state. I do know that the old truism about never knowing how a traumatic event will affect you until you’re actually dealing with it is right on.

I’ve had nightmares almost every night I’ve been here (when I’ve been able to remember my dreams at all, that is). And yet I’ve stayed in bed until late morning whenever possible, until my back hurts and my shoulders are screaming for a massage, because the lethargy is just too great to overcome. Really the only thing that forces me out of bed is having to pee.

One weird thing that’s happened while I was here: my mom’s AC literally froze. As in, the AC repair guy came out to look at it and said it had turned into a block of ice. We ran the fan for a full day in order to thaw it out (it’s back to normal now). I’d never heard of anything like that!

—

Chicago, Tuesday, July 17th, around 9:00 p.m.: phone call from my mom. I had been waiting for a call and I knew it wouldn’t be good. And I guess maybe part of me knew exactly how not good (or good, depending on how you look at it; he was suffering a lot, after all) it would be. Dacia and I were walking down Belmont looking for food. I stepped into an alleyway so I could hear my mom better. She sounded quiet and deflated, like she had been crying but wasn’t crying at that moment.

“Hi Amber. Well… Dad died.”

What could I say but, after a big gulp of air, “Okay. I’ll be there tomorrow.”

We talked for a few more minutes. I don’t remember what all she said. I do remember he passed away at 8:20 p.m., and about six people were in the room with him at the time.

I told Dacia. We hugged. We stood there. She asked me what I wanted to do. I said, “I know it sounds bad, but I want to eat dinner.”

She rubbed my back and said, “That’s what you do when you’re alive. You eat.”

—

Thanks, Dorie, for looking after our finches.

More posting to come, either really soon or not.

Well, I was going to put up a somewhat flippant post about the first day of the Desiree Alliance conference, saying that it was a lot like other conferences I’ve been to, only that people were taking their clothes off. In a totally non-sexual way - the conference space doesn’t have AC, and it’s really fucking hot, so, solution? Remove some of those bulky layers! Pretty awesome if you ask me.

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.

Just another quick post… still in Augusta, but will be heading home soon. Two hospice nurses came (as well as a bunch of people to visit my dad) and moved him into the hospital bed in the living room. He seems a bit more comfortable now.

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.

Just a quick post. I’m in Augusta, and I’m very tired. My dad came home today (as you saw if you follow my updates on Twitter). It was a really difficult experience seeing him so weak, having to be physically lifted and moved by the EMT guys (who were really great, btw). He had some visitors later… generally he seems to have a good attitude, and still has his sense of humor. But overall it is very sad. I’ve been a lot less teary-eyed this weekend than last, though I still have been on the verge of crying several times. I think maybe it’s because now we actually know what his diagnosis is, instead of being in the hospital, waiting on tests, dealing w/ incompetent interns, etc.? Maybe. I’m sure my emotions and how I cope will be all over the place, depending on the day and the situation.

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.

I’ve told it all to Rusty. I’ve told a good chunk of it to Jenny via IM, and hopefully made some sense amid the typos and inevitable disjointedness of IMing while at work. I’ve scrawled some of it in my real journal (that is, until my hand started hurting like hell; I can hardly believe I used to write 20+ page letters to friends, back before any of us had email).

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.

I want to write about my weekend, eventually (probably in a password-protected post), but I’m still processing all of it. At this point I’m just trying to calm the frenetic ongoing narrative in my head. I only took Klonopin once this weekend - I’m glad I was able to manage without taking it more, but I’m also very glad I had it, because I know it helped me a ton on Saturday. And it goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway - Rusty was a huge help to me this weekend. I don’t know what I’d do without him being there for me to lean on, no questions asked.

My dad will have a biopsy and chest/abdomen CT scan tomorrow. Then maybe we’ll know something more. And eventually I’ll write a longer post.

Today at work, we’re having a “cookout” (read: catered barbecue) at lunchtime, and the office closes at 2:00. I am so looking forward to the long weekend. -Not because work is stressful or I don’t like being here or anything like that. Actually, I quite enjoy being at work. But Rusty and I are going to take a road trip of some sort, and I feel like I really need it right now.

There’s been IRL stuff on my mind that hasn’t made it to the blog. Mostly, I’m worried about my parents. Without going into detail, I’ll just say I want them to be okay - better than okay, in fact; I want them to be well - but I feel powerless. I hate that feeling. And in general, this and other, smaller things have been leading to a subtle feeling of unrest.

So a day on the open road, with the sun shining down, in rural Georgia, is, I think, exactly what I need for some rejuvenation.

Rusty and I had been contemplating going to the 13th annual Redneck Games. I mean come on, how awesome does that sound? But we’ve decided it might be more awesome in theory than in reality. In reality, it’ll probably just be a hot, crowded gathering where I’ll get annoyed because I don’t like to be in large crowds in the heat. So we’ll go somewhere else instead. We just have to figure out where. When we get home this afternoon, we’ll study the big map and decide on a route.

Hopefully wherever we go, we’ll find some stuff like this to photograph:

Two years ago, Rusty and I took our first road trip together, and it remains one of my favorite memories.

That reminds me, I need to write a post about my affinity for old stuff, weird stuff, and especially old, weird stuff. I wonder how much of it has to do with scarcity? But, I must work now, so I’ll write that post later.

Yet again, I say worthwhile things on other people’s blogs, and then cross-post to mine.

I’m not linking to where I originally said this, because 1) my comment is still in moderation; and 2) the blogger in question might not want me to link, and I want to respect that possibility until I know for sure.

Oh, and typos in the original have been corrected, because yes, I can rewrite history like that! Ha!

Anyhow:

Activists who are intolerant of people who don’t “get it” annoy me, because it’s like, wait, were you just BORN “getting it?” Maybe, but probably not. And if you can help someone see the err of their ways without villifying them, they’re more likely to be a good ally.

On the other hand, though, I do have a BIG problem with what I see all too often from a lot of people who are rightly called out on their sexist/racist/homophobic/whatever behavior: “But I didn’t MEAN it!” So?? The intent is irrelevant. The impact is made. The damage is done. The hurt is real. Now, the adult thing to do is deal with the consequences of your (general “you”) actions instead of expecting the person you hurt to take care of YOUR feelings.

As a blogger I sometimes read recently said:

The pragmatics of the argument are obvious, but it misses the basic human element: oppression is ugly and it hurts. And it’s unfair to tell the victim to “suck it up” and “play nice” in order to force the change and equality that they deserve.

As for certain words, the thing I can’t wrap my head around is: what’s the motivation to continue using them? Why is it so IMPORTANT? What do you LOSE by not using those words? This is what I never understand w/ people - or wait, I’ll say it, ASSHOLES - who talk about how they feel so “attacked” by gay rights activists saying they shouldn’t throw around “faggot,” for example. Why is it so important for you to be able to use a homophobic insult?? What do you gain? I want to say to them (and sometimes do, on the rare occasions when I can stomach dealing with them), you better take a good hard look at yourself if that hurtful word is THAT important to you.

And as for “retard” in particular, I cannot grasp how or why anyone would continue using it after, say, reading Bastante Kim’s posts. Using the word out of ignorance is one thing; it doesn’t make it any less offensive or hurtful, but ignorance can be changed. If one is NOT ignorant and yet continues to use the word, I can only conclude that they are stupid or spiteful.

Update: Linked, per blogger’s permission!

As I mentioned on Twitter yesterday, I am totally feeling Kim’s sentiment in this post. I could barely read the whole thing without breaking down in tears.

I didn’t vote for Hillary Clinton in the primary (I voted for Obama) but it wasn’t because I actively disliked her. No matter what kind of irrational vitriol people spewed about her, I’ve always had a fondness for her. And it isn’t “just because she’s a woman” (which pisses me off that that’s dismissed with a just so much of the time) - I mean take a look at the nice round-up Octo has of HRC’s (can’t type that without thinking Human Rights Campaign) policies and such - a lot of which is stuff she did FOR WOMEN, which yes, matters to me a whole hell of a lot and I will not allow that to be trivialized. (But we’re so used to putting our needs last, as women… why should this be any different?)

I will vote for Obama in the general election, of course; and I cannot comprehend the faulty logic of Democrats/progressives/non-Republicans/whatever who say they will vote for McCain as a protest against Hillary not getting the nomination.

BUT.

It will be hard - impossible, I’m sure - to forget all the bullshit that went down in this primary season. The blatant sexism on display with hardly anyone calling it out - and those who did dare to call it out getting ridiculed and shouted down.

Same as it ever was, right talking heads?

It will be very, very hard to ignore the way this all burned inside of me such that I didn’t even want to blog about it, because it felt, as so many things that never make their way to this blog do, too raw. Not coincidentally, that’s the same word Kim used.

And all this, coming from me, who typically feels disinterested in electoral politics! (Although I always vote, of course.) This whole brouhaha has reaffirmed for me why I don’t get heavily involved in political stuff or watch cable “news.”* It’s not just because I find it utterly boring to speculate on who will get what nomination and blah blah blah.

Side note re: cable “news:” To quote something Rusty said the other night as we watched Jon Stewart interview Scott McClellan… “Can you imagine what it would be like if the actual media asked the hard questions Jon Stewart asks?” To which I replied, “I think he can only get away with it because he can use the defense of being a comedy show, not real news. That’s how fucked up we’ve gotten with the media and our concept of news.”

Anyway.

Pre-emptive note, btw, to commenters… I don’t need anyone to lecture me about why BHO is a better candidate than HRC, why HRC sucks, or any of it. That’s not what this post is about, and such comments will be deleted. I think they both would have made great candidates - great Presidents, I should say - and I think they both have their pros and cons in terms of policies and politics.

But that’s never what it’s been about, of course. And accordingly that’s not what this post is about.

All I can end with is, well… the same thing I started with… *sigh*.

I don’t know what the deal is with me lately. Why does it feel like I have less free time for blogging, even though I know I have more since Sex 2.0 is over? Yes, it’s true work has been busy - but work is usually busy. And I don’t really like blogging from work anyway; I like working at work, and I hate having no actual work to do. So what is my deal?
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I’m working on my Balticon wrap-up post. It’s slow going; I’ve been feeling sluggish all day. (I’m telling you, I need that colonic!) It seems like the older I get, the more recovery time I need from travel; and the more sensitive I get to things like air quality in hotel rooms (which is hardly ever good). The Balticon hotel was surreal on many levels.

Anyhow. I just saw this post from season of the bitch, because she linked to me in it.

Women used slut to wound and to mark others as inappropriate, as socially unacceptable, as vicious-a slut will take your man, she doesn’t care, in fact she likes it. She doesn’t deserve female friends, she’s not loyal to women, she just cares about male attention. Slut doesn’t even mean you have lots of sex or even any sex-it just means you look like you might, or talk like you might.

The slut is a monster. Her body is the body of all women (”a cultural body”). She doesn’t recognize boundaries (”harbinger of category crisis”) and she is not like you (”dwells at the gates of difference”). She is what you should not be, she defines by being it what is wrong (”polices the borders of the possible”) and yet, strangely, she makes you jealous. You want to be her. (”Fear of the monster is really a kind of desire.”) Most importantly:

“They [monsters] ask us to reevaluate our cultural assumptions about race, gender, sexuality, our perception of difference, our tolerance toward its expression. They ask us why we have created them.”

My college roommate gave me the craziest look when I told her that I was going to a fetish party the night before Halloween. Despite the fact that at the time, I’d never even had sex. But I’d made myself appear sexual and I’d talked about sex, out loud. That was enough.

(I almost felt the need to justify myself further here by talking about said roommate’s sexual behavior, which shows you how deeply this shit is ingrained-it’s certainly not right for me to pass judgment on her sex life any more than it was for her to do it to me. Hell, it’s stupid that I justified myself by pointing out that I was a virgin.)

But the point is that when a woman publicly appears to be sexual, declares herself sexual, we try to shove her back into that box.

Rusty and I (and yesterday, Rusty, Jenny, Dan, and I) have spent a lot of time talking about what happened in the “Don’t Be That Guy” session. I’m still processing a lot of it, which might also be contributing to why I’m having a hard time writing my wrap-up. Tomorrow night Rusty and I plan to record a podcast about it, so maybe I’ll be able to better express myself by speaking rather than writing.

Oh, but I was trying to tie the season of the bitch post (what’s her name? I can’t find it!) Sarah’s post to the panel experience. She writes about how she is fine with the word “bitch” (applied to her but not to other women) but cannot stand “slut.” I guess I am the opposite… sort of. I mean, I can completely relate to what she says here about “slut”…

That word hits me like a slap across the face-it leaves marks. And it’s so totally unexpected when it does happen, now that I’m not in high school or even college. When it slips out of the mouth of a male friend-not directed at me or a real person-I shudder before calmly and patiently explaining that I wasn’t OK with that word in ANY context, I didn’t care how much I disliked the girl in question. That it’s a word that hurts me as much as any woman it’s directed at.

That’s a feeling I’ve had many times - sometimes when I’m the one being called a slut, but more often when the word is directed at another woman. When it’s directed at me, it depends on who’s saying it and what the context is. Often, it just slides right off as an insult, and even makes me laugh and go, “Yeah, and? You’re damn right I’m a slut, now fuck off!” I do believe that the word can be reclaimed and can be a source of empowerment. Other times when it’s used as an insult, it just makes me roll my eyes at the utter non-creativity of the would-be insult-slinger. Seriously, that’s all you’ve got? Try again, bucko. FAIL. And, during sex? I love being called a dirty little slut or several variations thereof. Hotness! And it’s hot in that context because it’s not used derisively or judgmentally. Context matters.

But there are other words I cannot abide at all. In particular: bitch.

I won’t say “never,” because I know things change, especially in how people experience their sexuality and use it as a way to work through other issues; but right now, I absolutely would not find it hot to be called a bitch during sex. I know this is arbitrary because there are other women who love it and hate “slut,” and a million other permutations. But something about that word… it gets under my skin. It is never funny to me in the context of a joke; it is never acceptable to me as a general-purpose insult (why use a gendered insult when “asshole” will do just as well?)

Yesterday during the panel, there was a point where that word started getting used by some of my fellow panelists - and then, after being met with uproarious, approving laughter, by some audience members. I can’t say whether it stings worse in the mouths of men or other women; they are different kinds of hurt, but in both cases, my reaction is a feeling of deep-down queasiness.

I was already uncomfortable with the direction that panel was going at the beginning, but when that word came out, that’s the point when I started shaking. I don’t know if anyone noticed. But when I was reading an excerpt from synecdochic’s seminal reference post* on how not to be that guy, I noticed my hands trembling and I tried to keep them close to the table so no one would notice; and I tried to keep my voice as even as possible. I don’t know if I succeeded in either of those things. I guess the audio will hold the answer to the latter.

More to come.

* If you have not read this piece? READ IT. Immediately.

Update: Audio from the “Don’t Be That Guy” session is now available.

Talk about your Bingo card of arguments! Seriously, if I see “selling their bodies” one more time - and from a feminist, at that! - I am going to lose my damn mind.

Other Bingo-worthy words and phrases in this comment:

• empowering
• collection of holes and body parts Ed. note: ick! Bonus point for use of unnecessarily porny language.
• cash in on it
• post-feminist
• sex-as-a-commodity
• Sorry, but…
• early sexualization

As I said on the Feministe thread from whence this comment came:

And I guess I’m one of those old-fashioned feminists that doesn’t think a woman’s entire self-worth is wrapped up in what she does sexually. The phrase “selling her body” is *extremely* patriarchal and reduces sex workers to one aspect of their being: their sexual behavior. Sex workers are *not* selling their bodies - they are offering a service. Sorry but I thought that feminism didn’t subscribe to the belief that a woman engaging in sex with a man constitutes a transfer of ownership.

I do, however, need a “Stamp of Approval” or “OK!” stamp, because the last three sentences of that comment do not fail. I have no Photoshop skills to speak of, though (aside from putting one layer on top of another to make the above image, and the like) so that’ll have to wait until Rusty feels motivated to create more graphics for my amusement.

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.