I’m speechless

Short break from my hiatus to say this:

Stay classy, PETA.

Temporary Hiatus

I’m going to be busy for the next few days and possibly weeks depending on how things play out. My father passed away last night. He was in home hospice care, so this was expected; however, we weren’t expecting him to go this soon. In fact, he had been doing well enough to carry on conversations yesterday afternoon and even told the sitter he was fine literally minutes before he passed.

I’m very fortunate that my father and I had time together. He nearly passed away last year due to complications from surgery and that experience taught him not to be afraid of death. He had another whole year to spend with his grandson and though he spent over half of the year sick and in and out of hospitals, we were all thankful for the time we had. He managed to get his affairs in order and he got his two wishes: He didn’t linger and he went in his sleep.

I’m still willing to give this blogging thing a go, but first I’ve got my life to get in order.

Anthems

I couldn’t live without music. If tomorrow my laptop died, I’d eventually mourn the loss of many crappy short stories, character sheets, and mIRC logs, but my first thought would go to my music. Compared to my, ah, special friend (it’s complicated) my collection is rather puny, but I don’t know what I’d do without it. If I’m alone in the car, which is rare these days, my music is blaring and sometimes I sing along or dance in my seat. (Yes, I’m that crazy woman in her car at the stoplight. Stop and wave hi sometime.)

The style of music I listen to depends on my mood and the collection itself is fairly eclectic. There’s everything from a few Blue Grass tracks (Alison Krauss) to hip-hop to show tunes. Mostly, I listen to hard rock and I’m always trying out new artists, or my special friend sends me a track or two of some artist he’s discovered and that’ll send me on a quest to Amazon or Best Buy to find CDs to add to my collection. I can’t really tell you what it is about certain artists or songs that strike me ,- I know I’d sure as hell love to explain my obsession with HIM – but there are some songs I’ll adopt as my personal anthems and I’ll play them when times are tough to help me find my focus. Some examples of this would be several songs by Alanis Morissette, particularly “Unprodigal Daughter” and “Sorry to Myself.” There have been others, but some I’ve outgrown and others are only anthems for a short time. With my father’s poor health and my life effectively starting over from scratch, I’ve been listening to my anthems quite a bit as of late. It’s been helpful, and it reminds me that this too shall pass. One day I’ll be able to smile and laugh again, and there are people out there who’ve been where I am or at least understand what it’s like. That feeling of being alone is probably the worst part.

Anyway, tonight I’ve been listening to Alanis Morisstte’s Feast on Scraps album. I’ve been a fan of Alanis ever since I was 15. I’ve been teased about it, but her music and lyrics have always resonated with me. She’s been called angry and bitter, but I don’t think that’s necessarily true. Angry, sure, but bitter? No, she’s honest and blunt and I think some people don’t like that. It’s not always nice to have a mirror held up to us, which is what Alanis can do, even when she’s talking about herself. To show you what I’m talking about, have a gander at the lyrics to “Sister Blister” (and I swear I’ll try to refrain from posting lyrics in this blog too often):

“Sister Blister”
Alanis Morissette

You and me we’re cut from the same cloth
It seems to some we famously get along
But you and me are strangers to each other
Cuz you and me: competitive to the bone

Such tragedy to trample on each other with how much we’ve endured
With the state this land is in
You and me feel joined only by gender
We are not all for one and one for all

Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
They’re happy we’re climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in

You and me estranged from the mother
You and me have felt impotent in our skin
You and me have taken it out on each other
You and me disloyal to the feminine

Such a pity to disavow each other with how far we’ve come
With how strong we’ve been
You and me are on this pendulum together
You and me with scarcity still fueling

Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
They’re happy we’re climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in

We may not have priorities same
We may not even like each other
We may not be hugely anti-men
But such a cost to dishonor a sister

You and me have made it harder for the other
We forget how hard separatism has been
You and me we can help change their minds together
You and me in alignment until the end

Sister blister we fight to please the brothers
We think their acceptance is how we win
They’re happy we’re climbing over each other
To beg the club of boys to let us in

Do you see why I picked this song? It’s a woman’s anthem, albeit not necessarily a pretty one. The feminist blogosphere isn’t a nice place sometimes, and there are times when it’s downright ugly. I’m not saying the blogwars that erupt are about women trying to impress men, – that’s just in the song and totally not the point -but women do tear each other down and say some pretty shitty things all the while claiming to be on the same side. I’m not going to wag my finger at anyone or ask us to hold hands and sing campfire songs. Truth is, I don’t believe that’ll ever be possible – we’re too diverse a population with opinions that run the gamut, and that makes it nigh impossible to truly ever find common ground. What I can and will do is express my frustration that this happens and weather each storm that rolls through, which is why I posted the song. Remember I said I listen to my anthems to get through the bad times? Maybe next time I get discouraged by in-fighting and flamewars, I’ll listen to this and be reminded that this shit is going to happen, and while the storm may not ever wholly pass it will at least quiet itself.

Sexism? In my games? It’s more likely than you think.

It’s no secret I’m a gamer geek. I tend to prefer role-playing games (RPGs), both table-top and console gaming. If I had broadband, I’d participate in MMORPGs such as World of Warcraft and City of Heroes, but until I move away from this town I can avoid that particular addiction. As it is, I’m a member of an online community centered around a table-top RPG and I play over mIRC. The community, like most of the gaming world, is overwhelmingly male. I’m one of maybe five or six regular females there (it’s a small community), and out of that only two or three of us are around with any sort of consistency. I’ve always had more male friends than female, so the lack of other women never really strikes me until someone either says something about it or I come across an article or blog post that reminds me of the sexism and misogyny that can be prevalent in the gaming world.

This happened the other day when Melissa McEwan of Shakesville posted in regards to the new PS2 game Fat Princess. I don’t agree with McEwan that the PS2 sucks completely, but I do agree that there’s an obvious problem with Fat Princess and it isn’t her expanding waistline. Holly at Feministe does a great job of summing up just what’s wrong with Fat Princess, and she touches on the trolling that resulted for feminist bloggers who have dared to say anything negative about this game or the industry at large. The comments in the different posts range from laughable to outright infuriating and I have to wonder how blind you have to be not to be able to see why it is these women get angry.

When was the last time you played a game with a lead female character? When was the last time you played a game with a lead female character that didn’t look like she had two huge watermelons taped to her chest? (Yes, I knew you were going to name Lara Croft.) You know who I came up with? Samus Aran from the Metroid series of games. In the first game, you didn’t know until the very end that Samus wasn’t a male cyborg. For 1986, this was revolutionary, but isn’t it sad that 22 years later her name is one of the very few that comes up when you list lead female characters in video games? I’m not saying I have a huge collection of games, and I am aware there’s far, far more out there than Lara and Samus (Parasite Eve and the Resident Evil series have female protaganists), but my point is that there’s not enough and it’s obviously not equal.

Seeing as I came of age in late 80s and early 90s, I grew up with Princess Peach. She’s the woman that Mario had to travel through eight castles to find, and it wasn’t until recently that she’s been portrayed as anything but a damsel in distress. I was so excited as a little girl when Super Mario Bros. 2 (which technically was not a Super Mario Bros. game) came out for the NES because I could finally play as a girl! Only, Princess Peach was slower the others, and she was physically the weakest. It took her longer than every other character to pull up those roots and throw eggs at Birdo*, which didn’t help with bosses and enemies that moved fast. Her one strength was that she could sort of float for a short time when she jumped because her dress billowed under her and acted as a parachute. I wound up playing as Toadstool(?) or Mario more often than not. I remember being so thoroughly disappointed that the one playable female character was so weak, and it’s likely one of the reasons why I never pushed for a Sega Genesis or an SNES. I didn’t get back into gaming until the N64 and Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, which had some very strong supporting female characters. Zelda even escaped her typical role of playing damsel in distress, but in the end the person who saves the world is Link.

Even in my own fandom, Final Fantasy, the main character is always male. In Final Fantasy X and XII, there are some strong supporting female characters essential to the plot, but in both those games the story is told through Tidus (X) and Vaan (XII). X-2 is an exception as all three playable characters are female and tough as nails, which is one of the few postive things I can say about that game. However, all of them are thin, beautiful, and they essentially played dress up in order to change jobs. (And I’ll admit I’m fairly biased about X-2 because I hated the story and found the gameplay not fun enough to warrant replaying, even though it requires a second play-through in order to have a perfect game with 100% completion.) In Final Fantasy Tactics: War of the Lions for the PSP, I learned that male characters have a higher physical attack growth and female characters get the higher magic growth. However, the main character Ramza, a male, gets the male physical attack growth and the female magic growth. It’s rather telling that my reaction upon hearing this was not one of shock and offense, but a resigned sort of sigh. It was expected in a way. Any female character will never be as good as a male character as a warrior. If you want a warrior/melee job, you get more with a male character, and for mage jobs, females will be the best, with the exception of Ramza. Sure, the hero is supposed to be awesome, but couldn’t they have thrown Agrias a bone and given her male physical attack growth? After all, she starts out in the game wielding a sword (and I’m learning she is death itself as a Ninja). Oh, but that might make her equal to the hero and we can’t have that. Yes, I’m being a bit facetious there, but my point still stands: you don’t have to look very far or dig very hard to find examples of sexism in most any game.

There’s a reason there aren’t many women in the gaming industry and female gamers are sometimes viewed as mythical creatures. We have very few characters we can identify with, and sometimes we have to overlook some huge breasts flaws if we want to enjoy a game. When I sit down to play Grand Theft Auto, I’m treated to some pretty horrible depictions of women, not to mention I can always get my money back from a prostitute if I kill her after the deed is done. The premise of GTA3 is that the player’s character is backstabbed by his girlfriend in the course of a robbery and he winds up in jail. The whole game centers around building up enough capital and contacts to exact your revenge on her. It’s meant to be a violent game and that’s admittedly part of the appeal for some players – I totally get that. Yet, when a woman comes forward and dares to suggest there’s something wrong with the violence against women in games, or mentions that a game like Fat Princess might, just might, endorse unrealistic standards of beauty, they’re met with hostility. They’re called humorless, fat, lesbians, and any other derogatory names the trolls can come up with, illustrating the very point that was being made in the first place and missing the point by a country mile. It’s sad when you think about it.

We aren’t trying to take your controllers away, nor are we trying to change your games. All that’s being asked is that you at least consider the possibility that women aren’t treated fairly in videogames. Maybe then you might be able to understand why this female gamer gets frustrated from time to time and why I don’t play more games than I do.

* = Birdo was actually transgendered, but is now portrayed as having always been biologically female. This game could have been so progressive considering when it was released.

Picture it. Sicily, 1929…

I’m a day late on this, but I had to post on this.

Actress Estelle Getty Dies at 84

LOS ANGELES | Estelle Getty, the actress known best for playing the sarcastic octogenarian Sophia on TV’s “The Golden Girls,” has died. She was 84.

Getty, who suffered from advanced dementia, died Tuesday morning at her Hollywood home, said her son, Carl Gettleman.

I still watch The Golden Girls on Lifetime anytime I’m over at Dad’s house. I watched the show when I was growing up and it’s always brought back fond memories of my late grandmother as she was a fan of the show. There was no other show like it on television, and I wonder if we’ll ever see its equal. These days if a show feature four single women living together they’d all have to be young, single, attractive, and desperate to find a husband.

So long, Estelle. You will be missed.

Someone on TV said it so it must be true!

You know what? I am actually not that much into voting. I think it’s kinda crazy that a woman is running, because I think that women deal with a lot of emotions and menopause and PMS and stuff. Like, I’m so moody all the time, I know I couldn’t be able to run a country, ’cause I’d be crying one day and yelling at people the next day, ya know? – Brooke Hogan, daughter of Hulk Hogan and star of the reality TV show Brooke Knows Fuck-All Best.

Gee, Brooke, because you wouldn’t be able to run the country that means everyone woman on the face of this planet is incapable of leadership? When did you become the spokeswoman for women the world over? Gosh, someone needs to tell Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Sandra Day O’Connor, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Margaret Thatcher, Elizabeth Dole, and other women in positions of power in various countries that we’re too emotional and too ruled by our hormones to do the job.

Sweetie, do yourself a favor and get to a doctor immediately to remove your head from your ass. Also, if you’re incapable of functioning due to your emotions, it may not be your hormones. You really should get that checked out because that is not normal. And finally, please, please, please do yourself a favor and open a book or two on women’s history. You just might find out we don’t all sit around watching Lifetime eating chocolate.

H/t – Miriam at Feministing

My Abstinence-Only Experience

Jessica at Feministing asked her readers to e-mail her and share their abstinence-only sex education experiences for her latest book. I have been meaning to write about my own public school sex education for quite some time and I thought this would be a perfect opportunity. I’m not sure if she’ll be able to use my story if I post it to my own blog, but I thought I would kill two birds with one stone and write the e-mail as well as the blog entry in one go.

Oh, and my apologies for any improper grammar and typos. I was very tired when I wrote this (still am), and life has me running around doing ten things at once. (No, really, you should see me brush my hair, talk on the cell phone, order refills on my dad’s prescriptions, entertain a toddler, and drive all at the same time. …ok, maybe I exaggerrate, but only a little.) Ordinarily I’d take the time to make this perfect, fix the tenses and all that, but I really just wanted to get this out while it was in my head, and now I’m rambling so just read it.

In eighth grade I believe it was (1994-95), I had a co-ed sexual education course for my nine weeks of health class as dictated by South Carolina law at that time. I’m not totally sure it was classified as abstinence-only, but it was close enough. At the start of it, we touched briefly on both male and female puberty, once again relearning what we had been told in fifth grade by the school nurse with a little more detail this time, and then we talked about sex, STDs, and pregnancy.

We talked about hormonal birth control for women, but we were told it’d make us gain weight (Oh, the horror!) and that it was nearly impossible for teenagers to remember to take the pill reliably and thus it was unimaginable we could ever trust that 98-99% effectiveness. I think the biggest lie I was told was in regards to condoms and their effectiveness at preventing both STD/STI transmission as well as preventing pregnancy. I was told that even with perfect use, condoms were only 85% effective at preventing HIV and pregnancy. How frightening is that to a scared teenager?

Over and over again we were told that it was better to wait until marriage for sex. There were hints dropped that girls should be careful with how we dressed and what we allowed on dates with boys. I remember vividly hearing our teacher tell us that boys were more visually aroused than girls, and they can’t help themselves if they get aroused. Back then I thought that was a lie as I knew I could be aroused visually, but then again it made me question if something was wrong with me as all my peers nodded their heads in agreement. I accepted that lie because it never occurred to me that my peers were agreeing with her because she was an authority figure and supposedly had more knowledge on the subject than we did. She was married with kids so she had obviously had sex and must know what she was talking about. We couldn’t question her, or so I believed. There was at least one semi-cool moment in class that I recall. She once asked the boys if they’d prefer a virgin on their wedding night, and when they all agreed she asked why we girls couldn’t expect a virgin too. Of course, this was about the only time I recall there being any mention of equality.

By far the worst thing that stands out in my mind has to be the horrible video series we watched. I wish I could remember the name of it, but what I do remember is that it was a big steaming pile of racist, sexist, and misogynistic crap. It was from the mid to late 80’s from the look of it (big hair, really tight jeans, etc.) and it centered around four high school couples plus one set of parents and an older sibling of one of the girls. There was the couple that was good and the female half of that relationship kept reiterating she was going to wait for marriage and the boy would begrudgingly agree with her. They were white as was the star football player and his girlfriend. Then there was a black couple who also were waiting for marriage, and a younger black girl who was being pursued by another young black man who was the stereotypical black troublemaker. There is a reason I mention race, it comes into play later.

The jock wanted to have sex, but his girlfriend had been reluctant. She was really close friends with the other white girl who urged her not to have sex because she would regret it. One night they went to a party to celebrate the football team’s victory. There was plenty of underaged drinking, and the “pure” girl decided she was going to leave. Her boyfriend, also unfcomfortable, agreed. She found her friend dancing with the jock and told her she was going, and that maybe she should go home, too. The friend was absolutely plastered and her jock boyfriend said, “She doesn’t want to go.” The girl argued, but her friend, who was laughing because everything is silly when you’re drunk, told her to go. She reluctantly agreed to leave with her boyfriend as the jock ominously half-carried the girl off some place else.

Keep in mind that the girl was so drunk that she could not stand without assistance. Her thinking was clearly impaired and the jock was definitely taking advantage of her drunken state. The next day or so, she’s back in school and says she can’t remember that night, but she’s pretty sure she and the jock had sex. The “pure” girl pities her, but immediately the slut shaming and victim begins because viewers are left with the impression that it was all her fault for staying with the jock and getting drunk in the first place. Naturally, the girl winds up pregnant and she has to admit this to her parents, and no one, not even the girl herself, ever brings up the fact the sex may not have been consensual. Nope, it’s all her fault for giving into temptation and getting knocked up. She goes to the doctor to discuss prenatal care (oh yeah, abortion was never even hinted at as an option, only adoption or keeping the baby), and her biggest concern is when the doctor tells her she’ll have to gain twenty-five to thirty pounds! Yes, she even sobs and wails when the doctor tells her that. I guess other health issues that arise from pregnancy weren’t as important as the fact she was going to permanently ruin her perfect figure and become a disgusting fat girl. Oh, and to add insult to injury, the jock denies he could be the father and accuses the girl of giving him crabs.

After this we’re treated to a scene with the “pure” girl is kissing her boyfriend. She stops him before things get too hot (oh no, he put his hand on her waist!) and he hints at his desire to show her how much he loves her. She tells him that while she is tempted, she doesn’t want to end up like her knocked up friend, which of course if the fate of all teens who have sex. Again, he agrees that waiting is best.

While all this is going on, we also shown the story of the black couples in this school. (They were all friends, but there also seemed to be this divide that kept them separated from the white teens, which I don’t think was intentional.) The first couple is very similiar to the pure couple, only they are making plans to wed after graduation. Though it wasn’t outright said, part of this decision was based on the fact that they wanted to have sex, but knew marriage was the only proper place to do it. No one wanted to end up like that knocked up slut. Then there was the younger black girl, a good student and younger sister to an older girl we saw on the rare occasion. She had caught the eye of a boy that I think was a juvenile deliquent. Naturally, he was black too, and everyone warned the girl that this boy was bad news. Of course, he turned on the charm and and tried to woo her. Against her better judgement, she agreed to meet with him at someone’s house alone. Do you see where this is going? Yep, the one single black guy that wasn’t a carbon copy of the “pure” couple, rapes the young black girl in a pretty horrific scene.

I can’t remember it clearly, but I think the girl is so ashamed she never reports the rape. The boy is never arrested for rape (I think he gets into trouble for something else and goes to jail later on), and she only confides the rape in her older sister. Throughout all this, the younger girl has had a crush on the slightly older “pure” black boy, but of course he’s in love with his girlfriend. After the rape, the younger black girl decides she wants to try to steal him away from his girlfriend. At a school dance, she dresses up in a tight and what was for the time a somewhat revealing dress. (Oh yeah, the rape only happed a couple of weeks before at best and she’s not demonstrating any signs of trauma.) She takes off her coat for a big reveal and goes over to talk to her crush. He is obviously stunned by her appearance, but brushes her off and finds his girlfriend. Disappointed, the girl goes over to her older sister who saw the whole thing. The older sister does the right thing and tells her that using sex is the wrong way to get men, but then she goes on to say that the way she dresses in just an invitation to get raped again. Yes, more slut shaming and hints that she’s to blame for being raped in the first place. That’s enough to make the younger girl see the error of her ways and leave the older boy alone.

The series wraps up with a ten-year high school reunion. Some older woman speaks to the audience about what happened to everyone. The pregnant girl had to drop out of school and never got to go to college, and the jock was forced to pay child support and lost all his dreams of going to college and becoming a football star as well. The white couple that chose to wait didn’t marry each other, but they went on to college and had happy families because they had chosen to wait until they were married. The black couple tried to make a go of it, but even though they had waited, a baby came too soon and ruined their marriage. They were divorced and we see the younger black girl, who has supposedly remained virginal and “pure” this whole time, speaking to him and they were making plans to go out on a date afterward. Yes, she finally got the guy just by waiting! I can’t help but ask why it was the black couple who divorced and why the white couple got all the good things? And why was it rape when the black boy did it? Because the girl was clearly unwilling? Yet, the white girl could barely stand, but the jock had been wanting sex with her and it was her fault for getting drunk around him.

It’s so depressing to think that my young 14 year-old self bought into some of this tripe, but I was one of the lucky ones with a mom willing to talk openly about sex. She wasn’t perfect, but thanks to her I never believed sex was something that had to wait until marriage in order to be fun and special. The first time I had sex and all throughout my first sexual relationship, I used condoms. There were no excuses not to. I’m sad to say I didn’t insist on a condom with my second partner for various reasons I won’t get into here, and I had an unplanned pregnancy as a result, but I would not trade my son in for anything in this world. I refuse to feel shame for my past sex choices (in fact, I think I annoyed a few of my more conservative relatives for my decision not to marry my son’s father). Those choices have shaped who I am and I’m a better and stronger person for it. I own my sexuality and I own my body – I always have, but these days I actually believe that and make choices based on that.

Way Off the Mark

As seen on Feministing:

“Girls give in to sex not because they want sex – it’s like a hug. If they can get that from their fathers, they won’t need it from a boyfriend.”

- Janice Turner, teacher of Power Purity classes in Alabama.

First of all, ewwww.

Secondly, I didn’t start having sex nor continue to desire it because my daddy didn’t hug me enough. In fact, the times I’ve had sex I’ve never thought of my dad at all. I had sex because, to be completely crass, I got horny and I wanted to. If women only have sex for love and affection, why the hell do vibrators and dildos exist?

Another Douchebag in Disguise

I’ve been reading about Kyle Payne, a blogger and self-described male feminist anti-porn activist*. His story hits close to home for me in more ways than one. It brings up the question women often have to ask ourselves: Can we ever truly know the men in our lives enough to trust them completely?

* = Click the links to see why this man is anything but a champion of women’s rights.

No county commissioner left behind

Oh, Texas.

County commissioners were discussing problems with the central collections office that is used to process traffic ticket payments and handle other paperwork normally done by the JP Courts.

Commissioner Kenneth Mayfield, who is white, said it seemed that central collections “has become a black hole” because paperwork reportedly has become lost in the office.

Commissioner John Wiley Price, who is black, interrupted him with a loud “Excuse me!” He then corrected his colleague, saying the office has become a “white hole.”

That prompted Judge Thomas Jones, who is black, to demand an apology from Mayfield for his racially insensitive analogy.

To be fair, Mayfield did try to explain he meant an actual black hole, you know, that thing most every first-grader learns about in science class? While I believe people can unintentionally make racially insensitive remarks, I don’t believe this was the case here. At all. Yes, even if it is Texas. I understand racism is alive and well, but the term black hole did not originate from a racial slur, to my limited knowledge of the scientific phenomena. (I suspect one possible reason it is called a black hole is because of the absence of light, but that’s a stab in the dark.)

Oh, before anyone gets in a huff about my mild derision of Texas, I’m related to at least seven idiots in Texas. One of my first-cousins had to go to the hospital for a Viagra/Cialis related incident. Twice. (If you really want to know, ask. Just don’t blame me for the headache it’ll cause from you hitting your head on the desk.) So, really, I have no room to talk, but I do it anyway.