--I chiropracted myself, which sometimes happens accidentally, and I'm sad that by morning I'll be out of alignment again

--I notice that if I go between four and seven, there are a lot more maintaining-their-fantastic-shapes girls in matching jogging outfits who have guys in tight muscle shirts leaning up on their equipment saying things like, "So who are you?" and "Looks like you're doing good" in that way I sort of thought only happened when sitcom characters were trying to be suave. Early in the morning or late at night there are more people who look like they exercise for their health and wear old t-shirts. I don't really mind either way, because fitting in is nice but watching people flirt is highly amusing

--I want to perfect my playlist, but there are actually a lot of awesome songs with the right beat and that makes picking difficult; however, it would end in "We Believe in Barack Obama" and Panic's cover of "Shout." It would probably start with "Follow Me Down", because that song is better than coffee for jumpstarting.

--I remembered socks! This is notable because it has been like, a week since I remembered to take socks.
Things that are nice, but weird: having a conversation with someone outside fandom, but not having to explain what fandom is. I don't mean, like, people who are cousins to fandomers--geeks, nerds, gamers, etc.--but somebody genuinely unconnected with it.

I started to explain the topic I want to do for my final project in my folklore class, and I started out with, "I'm a member of this, sort of, subculture? On the internet. That's based around being a fan of something--"

And she said, "Oh, fandom?"

And I was like, *blinkblinkblink*, "Uh, yeah. Sorry, you just cut about five minutes out of my explanation of the project."



(Speaking of the project, in a couple of weeks, I may abuse all of my friendships with you and ask you to pimp a post for me. But I need a little more info on how to structure it first.)
Homophobia makes me sad. SAAAAAAAAAAAD. Especially in my own family.

WTH, seriously, you'd rather they were drunk than dancing with each other shirtless? CLEARLY they were joking, for one thing, you idiot, and you KNEW they were joking, but it's worse for them to be violating a stated rule than for them to skirt the edges of the appearance of something that might turn into violating a rule?

Also, I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure drunkenness is worse for people's health than a little shirtless dancing.

I really desperately want to kick him. He's not stupid. He's not so old that I can chalk it up to the culture/time period he was raised in. He is CHOOSING this.


And I said something, and got all flustered and turned around the way I always do, and part of the problem is that he never does this when we're having a private conversation, he always does it when we're in public and around small children and I can't say the things I really want to.


What makes me really sad is how everybody else was nodding along to his little diatribe. Wth, family. I can make a few more excuses for you, because of the aforementioned time period thing, but even with that, you are all thinking, generally sensitive people. Most of the time I am genuinely fond of you. What is this HUGE and APPALLING blind spot in your awesomeness?

It makes me a little sick to listen to one of the women I admire most in the world talk like that.
Fulfilling another "diversity" requirement by taking a class in Native American culture; our final (group, bleh) project is a presentation to our "tribal elders"--two *white* professors--a plan to improve conditions that can be universally applied to all tribes, in all places. We are not presenting these plans as white people ourselves, but as Indigenous Natives (or whatever the hell the current correct term is, sorry, my professors can't seem to make up their minds.)

It's Racefail all over again.

ALSO: despite the fact that the point of the entire class is to make us respectful, our professor just told us about a time a member of a native culture shared some mythology with her, calling it a "cute little story."

FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY, WOMAN, SHUT UP.
Oh, gag, California, I DID NOT NEED THIS TODAY.

I am going to go re-read Spencer's Out interview until I feel better.
Oh, there's nothing halfway
About the Iowa way to treat you,
When we treat you
Which we may not do at all.
There's an Iowa kind of special
Chip-on-the-shoulder attitude.
We've never been without.
That we recall.
We can be cold
As our falling thermometers in December
If you ask about our weather in July.
And we're so by God stubborn
We could stand touchin' noses
For a week at a time
And never see eye-to-eye.

But what the heck, you're welcome,
Join us at the picnic.
You can eat your fill
Of all the food you bring yourself.
You really ought to give Iowa a try.

Provided you are contrary,
We can be cold
As our falling thermometer in December
If you ask about our weather in July.
And we're so by God stubborn
We can stand touchin' noses
For a week at a time
And never see eye-to-eye.
But we'll give you our shirt
And a back to go with it
If your crops should happen to die.

...YOU REALLY OUGHT TO GIVE IOWA A TRY!!!



Hooray for IOWA!! I will now perform celebratory backflips and make my baby sister watch The Music Man with me!!
I am smiling all over my face.

LOOK AT THAT.

CIVIL RIGHTS ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE.



Admittedly, it isn't a commitment to marriage, but it is to everything else.

PRAISE. HOPE. LOVE.



With all the change he's building
Gonna bring hope to the children
We believe in Barack Obama, yeah

Change
That we can believe in
Change
That we can believe in
Change
That we can believe in



YOU GOT THAT RIGHT, HUSHIES.
WHY DO I EVEN BOTHER

Democracy is important. I get that. I totally get that. I do. And I will go. And I will vote! Because otherwise it's pointless even having democracy. And I believe in preserving the right to vote.

It's just...it feels pretty pointless anyway.

I sent an e-mail to our representative about the Orphan Works bill, and recieved a response that boils down to, "I respectfully disagree, but thanks for letting me know what you think." And is there any doubt in anybody's mind that I might as well vote for Mickey Mouse for all the difference it's going to make in which votes Utah sends to the electoral college?

I'm thinking I might write in the Ryman/Tate ticket anyway.
So I'm taking this "Diversity in American Literature" course, which, you know, in theory, is great. Because I like diversity! I like to learn about new cultures! I am still more than a little irritated that my anthropology course no longer counts for a diversity credit, but whatever!

Problem #1: We are learning about the downsides of other cultures. We are not learning about how rug-weaving preserved the stories of heroes...no, we are learning about how Latinas get raped, and America is devaluing all the other cultures that come to reside within its borders. I find this obnoxious, to say the least. There are awesome STRENGTHS to these other cultures; they aren't all wars and abandonment and misogyny. No, REALLY, they're not. The teacher is all about finding universalities, like the search for selfhood, the trouble being all these books are about searching for selfhood by rising above/rejecting one's roots, rather than finding a place in one's culture.

Problem #2: Four, count 'em, FOUR people with serious bigotry issues: two with anti-gay issues that they're really vocal and nasty about (which, you know, it's Utah, I'm actually pretty happy there's only two); one with a white supremacy stick up her rear; and one guy who feels the need to insist for fifteen-minute periods that nurturing and softness and the need for protection are "innately feminine" which, you know, really makes me want to knee him in the groin. Not just because to prove him wrong (although, you know, DEFINITELY that too) but because he is smug and oily about it in a way that makes me want to knee people I agree with in the groin.

I know you had to take a diversity credit to graduate, people, but you could have a) chosen one of the classes that has less group discussion, b) chosen a class based on something other than what you feel the need to argue about, or c) chosen a class where I don't have to put up with you. I get, okay, that basically you are the reason for the diversity credit requirement, but...why do I have to watch you get exposed to new ideas and listen to you spew filth all over them? Is the reason I'm required to take this class to teach me how to smile and be polite at bigoted jerks?
Just in case the world hasn't told you about it yet (and so that I have a record of it in my own blog):


BEHOLD THE AWESOMENESS OF THE STATE OF CALIFORNIA



FOUR PERCENT OF OUR COUNTRY RECOGNISES BASIC HUMAN RIGHTS!!!! W0000000T!!!




P.S. If there are any of you reading this for whom this is not good news...just skim past, okay? I'm sure we've already talked about my points, and your points, and nothing new or good will come of it, and really? I don't wanna debate it, I just wanna revel in it.
This weekend I was a good big sister and watched a movie with my eleven-yo baby sister; she got to pick.

She chose that Perfect Man movie--with Hilary Duff? (She's eleven. Try not to judge too harshly.)

It's actually not a terrible movie. Cheesy? Yes. Condescending? Yes. But not terrible.

However?

The narration from Duff's character is presented as though she's blogging about it. And apparently the scriptwriters have never actually read a blog, particularly one written by a teenage girl.

I was a teenage girl with a blog. I have teenagers on my flist. They don't write like that. Nobody I know, including the off-LJ blogs I get linked to that are professional or otherwise more-public-than-personal, reads like that. In style it's probably closest to Samantha Ferris's blog, but it's kind of like mayonnaise being closer to ketchup than peanut butter, and seriously...the public broadcasting blog of a thirty-something actress. C'mon, y'all. I do better research than that for fic. Let alone a movie millions of dollars are being spent on. They could have afforded to pay the writers to surf MySpace for a couple of days.

There are other little things...does anybody actually address people by their screennames in e-mail when you know the names they go by? Would you call me "BrooklynBoy" if you knew I was Ben, really? "Dear Brooklyn Boy, today blahblahblah..."?

I didn't think so. (ETA: To clarify: they met in real life, and were referring to each other by their actual names; then changed to calling each other by screenname when they were separated and only communicating online. Moreover, these were the adults, not people growing up in online culture.)

And what gets me most is the fact that they keep presenting the character as isolated, lonely, by the way her family keeps moving around. Here's a hint, movie writers? If she's got a personal blog? She's part of a community. She moved to New York...I guarantee at least one person she knows online lives within a four-hour ride. I guarantee if she feels safe blogging about her intimate personal issues, she has people she considers friends reading this thing...people she doesn't lose when she moves, people she counts on and communicates with, people who keep her from feeling as though she's all alone in a cold, cruel world. The point of the internet, particularly of blogging, particularly of blogging about the very very personal details of your life, particularly when you're just another of a thousand other ordinary citizens? Connecting to people.

So next time? Find a different narration device. Or do some goddamn research.
*sad*

The man who brought us DEATH, and Susan, and Vimes, and Esme, and Sybil, and Havelock, and...

It just makes me unhappy that the place where so many of my favorite people live is going to slowly fall apart. I'm just sad that such an awesome person will go through something so awful.

I'm just...sad.
So, for the first time I'm going to talk about Chuck. It's going to be a rant. I feel this is essentially unfair, because I've loved the show and the characters up until this very episode, but it can't be helped.

And it was going so well, too. )
Okay, so:

My Issues are causing me to pick up keyboard and type again. Seems like the only time I can get things written without a deadline is when I am really, really mad about something and haven't any other way to express it. (Er, just so we're clear...not a personal, hurting-me thing this time...political/the world sucks stuff.)

Watch this space...
I spent Saturday at Barnes and Noble, indulging a guilty pleasure.

I read flangsty teen chick novels.

Now, see the thing is, I have the same objections to them as I do to Hey, Arnold!, only lessso. )

Happy Birthday to [livejournal.com profile] the_portkey



Who is awesome. Who talks me through my bad times, and writes a fantastic Remus Lupin.

For all of the above reasons, and many more, I love you, babe. Have a fabulous day.





RED STATE. BLUE VOTER.

Pass it on.
Okay, so the good news: Yesterday my little Chinese-speaker (who is now also an English-speaker, in what? two months? I'm so proud!) who according to her mother used to hate me, said that she'd missed me over the weekend. And Josh (my little boy who I'm SO worried about because, among other things, his mother is (accprding to my director) on drugs and I think she was on them while he was in the womb) told me that he loved me. So I am happy.

...Do you see why I love this job? The chance to work with such precious children? Even when they're being obnoxious, they're precious.

Birthday coming up, and my kids are already excited for it. Sillies. *squidges them*

Finally starting some Padma rolling, which is good.

Making another key attempt tonight.

Election: Yes, I voted. FIRMLY AGAINST Amendment 3, if for no other reason. I wrote in Jen's Civ professor for president. (Yes, Jen, I actually did it. *g*) If this were a swing state I'd have voted for Kerry, but as there is no chance in hell of it making a difference HERE, I wrote in someone else.

*wanders off to finish reading Remus interviews*
The following link will lead you to both a lot of laughs and some heartfelt admiration...a girl standing up for what she believes in through show tunes. (TC, if you do not click on this link you will be very sorry.) It is in my memories and will never, ever leave.

http://www.livejournal.com/users/koaloha/29646.html

ETA: having investigated further, I have requested access to her journal in general...she lists "strangers with candy" as an interest. (!!)
Gender bias will bite you in the butt.

So Michael's car broke down in front of the house last night. He told us the battery was dead. Did it occur to ANY of us to ask him if he was SURE? NOOooooo...so what do we wind up doing but calling the fire department because we set the jump cables on fire. 0.0

If it had been Kimi, we would have asked. We would have tested. We probably would have asked someone else. But because of the subconscious gender bias--bingo!

Well, we learned something. So--hey!

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