The Need to Justify

What is it that compels us to justify our choices in life? On the internet it can become a blackhole of back and forth but in real life, it seems to all boil down to some intrinsic need to prove our worth; to have other people understand our intent. But at it's core, it's impossible and most of all, it's tiring. After reading, Dodai's incredibly personal article, When Motherhood Never Happens, I scrolled through the comments and I realized that what was driving points on either side of the comments was the need to justify our life choices. 

Those that were for motherhood felt the need to explain why they had kids and let everyone know that "I still have fun!" and "My life hasn't ended!". At the other end of the spectrum were the cries of, "I can travel and drink and I'm happy!" and "At least I'm not overpopulating the planet!" You know who I respect? The people in the middle. The people who don't judge and don't justify. 

I'm going to turn 29 this summer. When I pictured my life, I always thought I'd have a family, a partner, and own my own home (typical, but true). But I never gave myself a time limit. I never set myself in a particular place. I just always thought that when I had acquired the resources to have those things (the right mindset, some accomplishments, financial stability) those things would materialize. I grew up having my mom drill into me that I wasn't supposed to get pregnant at a young age, I was supposed to finish college and get a well-paying job, I wasn't supposed to depend on a man and I followed that plan. Now as I head towards twenty-nine, my mom's story has changed drastically. "So when are you going to settle down?" is a question that comes up in our conversations. And you know what? I don't answer it. I'm not going to justify to anyone why I'm not living my life on their timetable or their terms or based on their morals. 

I recognize that there is a finite time period in order for me to have my own biological children but guess what? I can't force the pieces into place. And I don't want to. So we have to stop forcing everyone to prove their happiness. To justify their worth. Because that is what divides us. The minute you justify your childlessness by downing motherhood, you've lost the argument. And when you equate your worth to your choice to pop out a kid, you've put someone else on the defense (or honestly in the case of women who can't conceive potentially called someone else worthless because of something they can't help). So stop, just stop. Do you, be you, and justify it to no one. 

100 Issues for 100 Days: #100

#100: Celebration!

I can't believe this but here it is. Not only did I reach 100 posts but I also reached a much deserved break. And the reason I'm getting to this post the day after my deadline is because I spent last night drinking margaritas and eating tacos at Lake Chalet (Taco Tuesdays!).

I've thought a bit about finishing this goal and what's next. I considered setting a new goal, but I think for right now, it's better to let myself come to blog; something that should be considerably easier now that I've done this. And I also thought about creating a theme. Obviously, television and films are my passion and I could wax on about that for days. But I also like having a place where I can write about anything; life, frustrations, sex (when I'm having it or not) and work. So picking just one theme seemed disingenuous to who I am. Like I said, I'm a jack of all trades master of none and that's an identity that I cannot seem to escape.

So ultimately what I came up with was a name change. Originally the name ...Makes You Do the Wacky, was based on a quote from Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, one of my all time favorite television shows. I still believe in the spirit of that title. That "love makes you do the wacky". We do the craziest things in the name of love. But the new title is something that reflects more of me and how I see life.

The new name is Deliciously Ambiguous. As I've said again and again, I don't know where I'm going and my life is pretty up and down. But (for the most part), I'm enjoying the ride and I'll take the uncertainty for those delicious moments of clarity.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #91

#91: Fearless

This weekend I was watching Ugly Betty and besides having fine ass Adam Rodriguez on the show, they had a great message. The theme of the show was about being fearless. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm not as bold as I used to be. I know that one of the by-products of getting older is that you learn to hold back and assess before acting but the best thing about youth is that you don't censor yourself as much.

Example: This Friday I had the opportunity to go to a house party. I got home pretty late but psyched myself up to go out anyway. Then the calls came; my friends backing out with various excuses and I decided I couldn't go to the party by myself. So I stayed home. Now I had lots of legitimate reasons I didn't go but ultimately it came down to fear. Who would I talk to? What would I do if I didn't feel comfortable? Just like I'd psyched myself up, I psyched myself out.

I'm not saying I've always been fearless but I wonder if "becoming an adult" hasn't caused my light to dim a little. I've definitely seen it happen to people around me. I've never been afraid of jumping off the side of a mountain or performing in front of hundreds of people but the little rejections, they scare me. I know that I want to be more brave when it comes to those things. Last night I went to a club and I saw a guy that I thought was cute. I got my friend to give him my number. Baby steps.

Sometimes I'm afraid of the dark
I can't find the light in my heart...
But if I was fearless ...
Fearless - Cyndi Lauper

100 Issues for 100 Days: #77

#77: Late Night

Last night I got home around 3 a.m. so although I had a post planned, I was far too tired to delve into the deep thoughts I had planned on sharing. But in the light of day I have some new thoughts/questions that this weekend away left me with:

1. I'm so glad my mom is my mom
I talk to my mom on the phone about every weekend. And if I miss a weekend she notices. We have a complicated relationship but most of all she's my friend. And she's a friend to my friends. In watching others interact with their moms, I always walk away appreciating her more.

2. How much change can your friends and family accept?
This is always something that runs through my mind. Even at 26, I'm constantly changing and I see it happening with my friends as well. There's a lot that I can accept but part of changing is knowing that not everyone around you is changing or that their change may lead them down a different path. So I wonder how much can people accept? One thing I observed this weekend is when the people around you do accept you, it's a beautiful thing.

3. The value of money
I touched on this in an earlier post this weekend but I just had to reiterate. The value of money is not in waht you purchase but rather in the freedom it affords you. A freedom from stress and worry. A freedom from limits. I think our society has focused too much on "being rich" or purchasing things. I just want the freedom to not have to worry about bills (and be able to eat what I want, when I want).

4. What are the things I value?
There are a lot of things I believe in strongly but most of all I believe in keeping an open-mind, attaining knowledge, treating people with respect and love and remaining humble. Those are the core values I try to model and what I hope to pass on to my children and my students. I also believe in being open, honest and straightforward with those I love. It's saved me a few friendships and hurt others but in the long run it was better than holding things in or being passive.

These are just a few things I came away from the weekend thinking about. I know it's heavy for a Halloween weekend but truth doesn't take a holiday.

100 Issues for 100 Days #74

#74: Traveling Man

Sometimes the only way for me to think is to get away from home. I've always been a traveler. In the summer, my mom would send me down to North Carolina to stay with my great-grandparents. While I know now that it was her way of taking a break from me, I thank her immensely because those summers were the best of my life. I got to spend time with my wonderful great-grandfather, Granddaddy Bud. We would sneak past my Grandma Rose and snag ice cream sandwiches. He'd let me steer his huge truck. And I'd sit in the swing behind the house and just relax and wait for dinner. The best thing was that anything that was happening back in NY didn't matter because I couldn't do anything about it.

Now, the same rules apply. Getting out of town means taking a break. I can't worry about the laundry that needs to be done because I can't do it. I don't have to struggle with what I should be doing. This weekend I'm on hiatus. I'm traveling. I'll still update but that's the ony commitment I'm sticking to.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #45

#45: Atonement

I'm searching for atonement
I'm looking for someone to tell me it's ok
To watch a child being beaten for having
Light-skin and long hair

I'm hoping someone will tell me
It's not my fault that I didn't jump in
And save the day
That I haven't seen the day
When I am afraid of children

I'm asking for forgiveness

For every time I fell short and
Let my short fuse lead a child astray
For the days I lost my patience
Because sometimes I'm scared
I'll end up a patient in a mental hospital
Screaming about back in the day
When things were cool
And the kids knew their place

I'm looking for empathy
For someone to tell me that
I wasn't wrong when I let that curse slip by
Or turned up the music in my headphones
Cause each curse word was like a knife wound
And I was tired of getting stabbed
Just riding the bus

The truth is I cry on the inside
When I hear ignorance
But sometimes I let it slip by
Cause I'm tired

I'm diving for absolution
I want to come up from the depths of my despair
Holding it like pearls
A buried treasure
That I've buried forever because the truth is that I'm afraid

Sometimes I am scared of the youth
And that outweighs my fear for the youth
The truth is that sometimes I'm a coward
And sometimes my bad days slip over into the good
So my hope floats away and I just want to
Turn up the music in my headphones and make it go away

Cause I ain't birthed no babies
And sometimes I'm tired of being a parent
To children who don't realize they don't have one

So I fumble for grace
A space where I can glory in the successes and not dwell
On the failures
But then the guilt rises like tides within me
Ebbing and flowing
Cause I can't let go of the hard cases
Those hard heads that have so much potential
Like torrential downpours
I cry tears and ask for clemency
A chance to demonstrate to me,
Myself and I
That I deserve the reprieve

Cause in the end
No one can forgive me
But me

100 Issues for 100 Days: #43

#43: Mood: Contemplative

Clearly this was one of those "in my head" days. Not so much becaue I was at work but I did start to think: when did we stop teaching kids to think? When did we stop teaching them the basic modicums of respect and decency?

I've been blaming the kids but lately, I've got to go to the adults. For example, lately when I go out to monitor recess, there are chip packets and wrappers all over the playground. That's the fault of their teachers. A 5th grader, maybe it's on them but a kindergartener? That's a teacher.

And I think about some of the things I've let slide. Because I was tired or just didn't feel like dealing. Is it really the kids or are we just using them as an excuse for our own laziness?

Last week when I was waiting for the bus, I saw a girl getting jumped. I didn't do as much as I should have. I'll admit I was a bit afraid. There were about twenty crazed teens egging the fight on. But ultimately, I let it go. I knew someone else would handle it. And I'd already yelled at 2 kids that day and dealt with another one's attitude. And I felt a cold coming on. And I just wanted to get home and lay down.

But ultimately, those are all excuses. Can I call myself a teacher, if when the time is most important, I don't teach?

100 Issues for 100 Days: #32

#32: Love Jones

Since I've been reminiscing all week I would be remiss not to mention Love Jones. Love Jones is one of those movies that I think defined what "love" is supposed to look like for people, as evidenced by the amounts of "Love Jones" blogs I found when searching for this picture.

For me, just the words evoke a certain feeling. It reminds me of the feeling of laying on the couch and reading a good book on a rainy Sunday. Or listening to jazz while laying in bed. Or a hot, restless night (like tonight) when you feel lazy and energized all at once.

But most of all Love Jones taught me what NOT to do in a relationship. It's one of those frustrations that make great love stories, the characters do everything wrong. While I learned not to play games and not to hold back when it counts, would the story have seemed so great if they didn't have to suffer a bit to get there?

I've been rewatching old clips of General Hospital and in particular, my favorite couple Jason and Sam. There's something cathartic about watching couples get together, get torn apart and reunite. Even if that love ends tragically and the reunion is something you only imagine. Ultimately, when you think of a love story, you don't remember the tragedy, you remember the warm nights, the laughs and the kisses. And that's why the stories endure.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #24

#24: Sideways

I recently discovered (and kicked myself in the head for missing) Kevin Smith's podcast with Scott Moisier, the aptly titled SModCast. For the most part, I like to listen to podcasts that discuss television shows but the SModCast is essentially just two guys shooting the shit and I must admit, I'd probably pay the few measly sheckles that I have to listen to these two guys.

It's fairly explicit language but it's highly entertaining. So much so that I find myself laughing out loud on the bus to and from work. The topics range from censorship to Canadian hockey icons and it's all done with Kevin Smith's trademark style of self-deprecation and forthrightness.

I went back to listen to the episode in which the two producers talked about the resistance they got around the ads for Zack and Miri Make a Porno. The entire episode basically devolved into a conversation about how parents need to deal with the changing world and take responsibility for what their children will see and how they explain it to them. This is an issue where I've noticed you seem to have two extreme opposites. On one end you have the parents who police everything their child sees, from television to books to what's in their neighborhood. And on the other hand you have parents who take their 5 year-old's to R-rated movies, curse in front of their children and basically let them watch or read whatever they want. In my opinion, in both situations, no one wins. The former creates a completely sheltered child who can't navigate he world or in an attempt to navigate the world, rebels. The latter is the kid who grows up far too fast, and in this country where children are hyper-sexualized and violent, a child doesn't need their parents to initiate the beginning of that process.

So what's the solution? From what I've observed it's all about talking to your children and giving them boundaries. In the podcast, Smith noted that the objection people had about the ad was the use of the word "porno". They were afraid that their kids would ask them what it meant. If I was a parent, I'd much rather my child ask me what a porno is than learn the answer somewhere else. And if you've set proper boundaries as a parent, a simple "It's an adult movie and it's not for children" will suffice. Yes, children are inquisitive but for the most part, they understand when something is not for them. Why are parents so afraid of what their children will ask them? There's always that moment of awkwardness but in the long-run, isn't it better coming from you? I know this is a bit easy for me to say since I'm childless but I welcome having those discussions with my (future) child. At least then I can say all the shit I have to keep to myself when talking to my students.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #23

#23: You Must Know ...

Amelia Earhart has always been an uninspiring figure for me. She's never really rated on any scale for me as an icon or a feminist, but today on Jezebel there was an interesting article about her in which they quoted a letter she gave to her husband on their wedding day:

You must know again my reluctance to marry, my feeling that I shatter thereby chances in work which means so much to me. . . . In our life together I shall not hold you to any medieval code of faithfulness to me, nor shall I consider myself bound to you similarly. . . . I may have to keep some place where I can go to be myself now and then, for I cannot guarantee to endure at all the confinements of even an attractive cage. I must extract a cruel promise, and that is you will let me go in a year if we find no happiness together.*

(*emphasis mine)

In the past few days, I've had two friends get engaged, and even more in the past few months. It made me wonder, what parts of myself am I willing (or unwilling) to give up in a marriage? What would my letter look like? I think it would be something like this:

You must know again my reluctance to marry. I've seen this end in spite and sorrow. And I've seen it tear down the self-esteem of everyone involved. In our life together, I hope that you can be honest, because I value that above all other virtues. I consider myself bound to you but if breaking bonds helps us both to live than do not hesitate to cut the cord. I am not your cage and you are not mine. I may have to keep some things for myself to be myself but everything else I wish to share. I must extract a promise and that is that you will let me go when holding on becomes too much. If we end, I hope to end in love.

Although I don't count Earhart as one of my personal heroes, I have a lot of respect for her entering a marriage with a clear vision and a clear intention of what she wanted and didn't want. Too often women are caught up in the dream rather than the reality beyond the wedding. I hope when I get married, I'm not planning for a day but instead for a lifetime.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #18

#18: Flashback

I just finished reading, Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason*. After hearing about the possibility that a third film was in the works, some people had suggested reading the second book, which is apparently far better than the film. While I agree that the book is superior, reading it as a woman in her mid-twenties definitely brought a new perspective.

(If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs ...)

Although the Bridget-isms were charming (though a bit dated as it was pubished in 1999) and I do love a British chick-lit novel, Bridget's raging insecurities were hard to deal with. The conceit of the novel is that Bridget is addicted to self-help novels and friends' advice, so much so that she is completely immobilized by it. Because everything that she reads and hears is contradicted by what she should actually be doing, she never gains any traction in her relationship. At one point, she goes to throw out her self-help books and even the listing of the titles (The Rules, Ignoring the Rules, How to Seek and Find the Love You Want, How to Find the Love You Want Without Seeking It) illustrate just how bogged down her logic is.

(If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too)

As the reader, you're hoping that Bridget's insights about "Singletons" and "Smug Marrieds" will lead her to some epiphany about life and love but sadly the heroine of this novel finds herself continually bogged down in wondering what her would-be lover is thinking rather than speaking to him. Funny enough, Bridget's mom, who is daft for the majority of the story, in one lucid moment says the most wise of things, "What's the point ... if you don't know what you think about things?"

(If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken)

Although I personally can't relate to Bridget (I can't relate to any literary character who basically works their way into debt and magically finds a wonderfully rich man), reading this book did give me a lot of understanding into where I am now. First of all, I am not living in a chick-lit novel. If I was the aforementioned wonderfully rich guy would be making his entrance about now. Luckily, I am also not surrounded by Smug Marrieds. I am a Singleton but not searching for spirituality in self-help novels in manner of "If Buddha Dated". What I am is somewhat content, usually horny (but who isn't in this heat?) and continuing to figure out my career. And I'll admit, I'm hoping I won't be still typing those words ten years from now.


(If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim)

The best thing about reading this book (beside it making me wildly happy about my own level o self-esteem) was the discovery of the poem If by Rudyard Kipling. I don't think Bridget fully understands the gem she's come upon when she reads this poem but she does use it to draw strength from while she's in a Thai prison. And I'll definitely hold the words with me.

(If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two imposters just the same)



*I'm currently reading books that have been turned into films. Atonement, Incendiary and Wonder Boys are on the list).

100 Issues for 100 Days: #10

#10: Hurrying Up to Get Nowhere

One thing that I'm continually learning is that life is about balance. Even though our school has moved and is in transition, this is my second year working with the same students and I want to reflect that in my life.

Many of my colleagues are trying to ensure that they are not staying at school until 7 or 8 p.m. Since the majority of my work happens in the afternoons, I'm working to make sure that I don't let my short-term goals (creating a writing center, establishing a high-school leadership structure) overwhelm my long-term goals (applying to business school, writing, creating a space for my personal life).

What I've noticed about myself and my colleagues is our tendency to become consumed by our student's lives and problems. The truth is it's hard not to. when you're a teacher, you're not dealing with numbers and abstractions. You're dealing with actual people, in real time and 90% of them are dependent on you and susceptible to your every word and action. It's a heady feeling and the pay scale that's associated with the job doesn't remotely reflect its importance. But this consumption can't override your own life. For the past three years as I've struggled to establish myself in a new state and new work environments, I've let that balance slip. For me, it means working harder to ensure that it doesn't happen anymore but the reality is that one of the best ways to do that is to detach from my students a bit. Otherwise, I'm hurrying along and getting nowhere.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #8

#8: Quarter-Life

Yesterday I went to see two movies, (500) Days of Summer and Julie & Julia. I mostly went to see them because I was in the mood for a big-screen version of a Lifetime movie and beause of my long-standing girl crush on Zooey Deschanel (not to mention my regular crush on Joseph Gordon-Levitt). Both movies were entertaining, enlightening and mostly sweet but later as I reflected on the two I realized that both brought up an essential question that people my age grapple with: what do we do when what we thought our lives would be, are anything but?

The main character in (500) Days. Tom, is a guy who always had an idea of what falling in love would be like. Most of it was based on what he saw in the movies. So when he meets Summer, he pretty much ignores all the obvious signs of why they won't work and is devastated when it doesn't, although the audience can see it coming from a mile away.

Similarly, in Julie & Julia, blogger Julie Powell embarks on a mission to cook her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in order to prove to herself that her life and her friends, that her life (at 30) has not been a failure.

Basically, these two people, in their late 20s/early 30s, have almost given up hope on love and career. And the reason we are able to go on this journey with them is because for many people my age, we find ourselves in the same place. We wonder what we did wrong or what we're missing that we haven't found love or been able to succeed at our passions. Personally, I'm in both positions. After 26 years of life, I've never been in love. And professionally, I struggle with being able to follow my passion or paying the bills. Lately, I've managed to find a bit of serenity in realizing that when those things do come, they will be epic. And they will be right. I guess right now I just have to trust that everything I'm doing will have to pay off otherwise it'd be pretty damn hard to get through the day.

100 Issues for 100 Days: #3

#3: Long Distance Friendships

You think that being in a long-distance relationship is hard? Try a long-distance friendship. I've had to deal with long-distance friendships ever since going to boarding school. The first thing I learned: some friends are not defined by time or distance. To wit, I have a friend whom I've known since the 1st grade. We've been separated by distance and time, sometimes going more than a year without speaking. He is and will always be my best friend (and my mother's hope for grandchildren). On the other hand, I've been away from New York for three years and some of my friendships have shown major wear and tear.

First, there's the married/pregnant friend. When I was home most recently someone told me, "You're a good friend because you don't have a husband, a boyfriend or a kid" (not too harsh at all). I agreed. I don't have those things. But I give plenty of leeway for the new mother/wife status. You need time to adjust to those things. Still, a true friend checks in. In this age of communication, a text will suffice.

Then there's the "I know you already traveled across the country but can you also come directly to my house?" friend. This is the most insidious type of friend because when you're away they tell you how much they miss you, and when you tell them you're coming home they fawn over you and make promises for nights out and days walking around. Then there's the arrival ... and the inevitable excuses. I've concluded that the break down is as follows: Traveling home = 50% of the effort, Calling to arrange plans once you get there = 20%. If this friend can't make the last 30% happen, you are completely absolved.

Finally, there's the friend you've grown out of. In the world of friendships this is common but time and distance exacerbates things. Moving leads to growth and while you're gone some of your friends are essentially standing still. The jokes that were funny before aren't any more. And the neanderthal comments that once rolled off your back are now lodged somewhere on your shoulder, kind of like a chip.

What I've learned to do is evaluate each of my friends critically. Some friendships cannot stand the strain of distance. But unlike a romance, it's hard to cut someone out of your life who's been a fixture for more than a decade. So the question is: do you cut ties or loosen them? I tend to be a cutter.

How Much for Happy

This article started up a shit-storm over at Jezebel today. And to be honest it's something I've been contemplating. Not so much comparing myself to my friends based on accomplishments but definitely in terms of finances. I have a shitload of friends with no jobs, in school who are traveling and living it up while I'm struggling to hold on to my studio apartment and pay my bills. It's not that I feel unaccomplished but my life does seem like it would be easier and more carefree if I was back in school.

At the same time school feels like a hideout. A place to be easy and carefree while others do the working. And really, if I don't have a plan or some place I really love, school seems like a complete and total waste of money. And though it's fun now, I'm sure all my schooled friends will be busting their asses to pay back school loans that they are currently blowing on Spring Break trips.

That being what it is, I've come to terms with who I am and where I'm at emotionally but not physically. I refuse to set arbitrary dates in terms of my professional or personal life. For instance, I'm 25 and I've never been in a serious relationship but I've never seen this as an inadequacy on my part. Mainly the guys that I've been with haven't been emotionally ready or they weren't men I wanted to be in a relationship with. The Boy was the closest I've come to actually wanting to date someone, which in my mind means taking that person into consideration when I make decisions, so it's not a small step for me. But I will admit to being frustrated at where I am physically in my life. I don't think I want to be in Oakland anymore. I want to take my chances in L.A. or outside of the country. I hate feeling stagnant and that is where I am right now. I feel trapped by bills and fear of job insecurity (because we've already established that I do not have anything to fall back on). And I hate feeling this way because, I don't have a kid, or a boyfriend or a well-paying job so why should I feel stuck? By what? I think the one fear I really have to be ready to let go of is the fear of being uncomfortable. It might take sleeping on some couches and hustling a bit more to be and do what I want. And I can't be afraid of that.

Eyes Wide Open

Here we are in 2009! I'm not a resolutions person at all but I do like to reflect on the year and let's just say ... I'm glad 2008 is over. What seemed like a promising year, turned out to be not so much of one and it (thankfully) flew by. But the good thing about a crappy year is that it always comes to an end and if you're smart enough you can learn from it.

I spent my pre-New Year's driving down to L.A. I stopped in Big Sur and spent some time hiking and thinking. It was a wonderful get away (even if it was cold as balls). I hung out with some locals and just breathed in some fresh air. After a pretty dismal Christmas without my family, I needed to feel like things could be different. And there's something about standing in a forest where things seem so static but are constantly changing, it makes you feel like your cirumstances are only temporary. We camped and I laid down my burden (down by the riverside bum-bum!)

Afterwards we continued down the California coast and if you have not driven down the coast, please make it a priority. It was AH-MAZING! Sometimes it was foggy and eerie and other times it was just picture perfect. The entire drive was surreal. I felt like I was in a movie.

And finally we hit LA. I always have mixed feelings about LA. I love that my friends are there, the vibe is faster than Oakland (and therefore closer to NY) but the schmooziness (yes, it's a word) weirds me out. I adore Venice. And I like the Arts District. In many ways, I was made for LA. I'm such a tv/movie freak it seems a no-brainer that I belong there ... and honestly I think I should be there.

I love the Bay but I feel the restlessness settling in. And I know I'm not happy with what I'm doing. I love the kids, and the school and the people but it's not what I want to be doing. After reflecting on the new year I've come to the realization that I need to get my shit together. School, work, whatever it needs to come together. I need a plan and I need to execute it. 2008 was the year of procrastination but 2009 needs to be the year of action. No resolutions just actions. I'm going to make it happen. (As soon as I figure out what IT is)

While I do that anyone want to get me some shoes?
... size 8

When One Door Closes...

I know I've been away for a while but this past month has been a roller-coaster. Each joy has been followed by a subsequent loss and each sadness has been followed by a sudden boon. It's hard to say that I know where I'm going because I feel like I have yet to get the ground under my feet.

I've had my computer breakdown and cost hundreds to fix, I've had a (slight) promotion at work. I've had my close friends move to California, and realized that I'm drifting from others. We as a nation stood for change (Yes we DID!) but the citizens of California decided to take away the rights of others. It's been ridiculous. I've gone from dancing in the streets to feeling like I don't know which way to turn next. And feeling completely helpless to having hope.

Today, I found out that Miriam Makeba, the wonderful South African songstress, has passed. I'm bolstered by the thought that she died while doing what she loved most and that she like all the others around the globe got to witness a major turning point in not only American but global history with the election of the first Black president of the United States. I'd like to think that when one door closes, it's only brief. It's only a sign that more is to come. There's no death, without rebirth. And I'm just experiencing growing pains.

One Big Interruption

So lately I've been feeling more than little dissatisfied with The Boy. His recent actions (or inactions, really) have been driving me up the wall. After the whole exclusivity conversation, a lot of the advice was: dump him, move on or fuck someone else. Being who I am, I considered those options carefully. To be honest, the thought of ending things with him makes me physically ill. My chest kind of constricts when I think about it. But I did consider "fuck someone else" to be a viable option.

Recently, an old friend/lover/hook-up has reappeared in my life. The timing seemed fortuitous. He'd called me up a couple of times and even invited me to the club where he works to hang out. Then yesterday, he called to see if I wanted to go to dinner. Because I've had a very hectic couple of weeks, I'd planned on staying in last night, so I invited him to come over for dinner. He came over with wine and salad fixin's while I'd cooked some fish and potatoes. The stars were aligned.

We talked, watched some television and snuggled a bit before the wine took its toll and I suggested heading to bed. Now as he'd clearly spent the night at my place before and I could tell he was interested it seemed like everything was lined up for a casual night between friends ... with benefits. From the moment of the first kiss, it felt off. But I was determined to power through. I figured it was fate. I wanted to hook up with someone else but I didn't want it to be about getting back at anyone. I wanted it to happen naturally and here some higher power had dropped this situation in my lap. This was no time to turn back. But clearly, that higher power has a sense of humor. Though I was determined and eventually started to get a bit into the mood, my partner was having a down day. Way down.

I'm not exactly sure what this means. I was originally hoping that last night was a sign that things were shifting away from The Boy. Now it seems I'm right back where I started.

It's Different for Girls

Recently, there was an outrage over at Jezebel due to two of its editors. Tracie and Moe, appearing on a local show called Thinking & Drinking and, taking the latter part to heart, the former took a backseat to some questionable comments. The interview then caused a lot of lamentation about the editors letting down girls & women who saw them as their new "feminist heroes" and others wondering why anyone would see these women as such in the first place.

Moe has since moved from Jezebel to Gawker.com, although I believe she will still continue to do some of her regular Jezebel features. Tracie on her personal blog eventually posted this statement where she questioned the idea of whether there can be a "good" or "bad" feminist. Although I found her final post on the topic to be the most well-thought out and honest viewpoint of the situation, her blog was littered with comments such as:

You are putting women, not even feminists, to shame with your attitude, outlook, and disregard. You words are trash and shouldn't be taken with any more validity than a cheap add in a porno mag.

and:

You're not a "bad feminist"...you're just an immature, cold, insensitive, self-centered bitch

Now while I do believe everyone is entitled to their opinions, I find that when addressing the issue of feminism, many women seem to believe that they have the definitive or the authentic feminism locked up somewhere. And throwing around the words "bitch", "whore" and "slut" don't help anyone.

Am I not a feminist (or a "bad" feminist) because I haven't read the literature? Is my feminism less authentic because I believe that being a good mother is the best job a woman can do? (On an aside: I also believe that being a good father is the best job a man can do. When you work with children, you realize how important good parenting is.)

I'm just wondering because it seems as though feminism, the way it has been set up, is still largely about middle-upper class white women who have time to contemplate these issues and denounce other women who don't because they are trying to survive economically or a stay-at-home mom or a sex worker or something else that doesn't jibe with the idea of a woman throwing down her apron and entering the workforce.

As I see it, the truth is that it's different for girls. There's always going to be a barrier to breakdown, an image to overcome, a double standard to navigate. But lately it seems like women are throwing extra barriers at each other to further judge your authenticity. I believe that a women should be able to have responsible sex with as many people as she wants, but I don't think anyone should be running around putting their sexuality in people's faces (male or female). I think a woman can do any job a man can do if she puts her mind to it. I also think there is a certain grace and beauty that women have and that should never be lost in the attempt to "equal" men. I don't know what kind of feminist that makes me but I also believe that this whole thing is a process. And it's still happening everyday.

Full interview of Thinking & Drinking (I really suggest watching the entire thing as the clips are a bit taken out of context): Shoot the Messenger

The Balance

So here I am on the other side of 25, the side that's tipping
a bit closer to 30. And that's how everything feels. Like it's all tipping a bit to the wrong side. To be quite honest, the only thing in my life that feels right is my friends. For the most part, friends tend to be my constant (not that my family isn't but they have their own issues on any given day).

If you check out my new iPod tunes you'll notice that it skews towards the 90's. It's because in the 90's, I had balance. I knew EXACTLY where I was going and what I was doing, and who I wanted to be. I wanted to be Julie Delpy in Before Sunrise traveling on a train from Vienna to Paris. I still want to be that girl.

The 90's made a kind of sense. The country wasn't completely steeped in sex and vacuous lifestyles. It was an age of pop-y boy band tunes and Britney before ... well, you know. Movies were quirky, the word "quirky" was still in vogue, Madonna was voguing. I know I'm still a bit young to be über-nostalgic but there was an energy in the 90's I just don't feel anymore.

Anyway, as I search for balance, I promise to update this week with some issues that have been rattling around in my brain: feminism, dreams, war, love, summer t.v. (lots to cover there), and fashion. Hopefully along the way, someone will offer me a job or a kiss and maybe I'll find some balance too.

Later days.