Poetry for Tomatoes

This evening, while walking back from the English building on campus to my dorm room, I was thinking about how inspired I feel when I walk around in outside in the dark, especially if I'm wearing flip-flops (which I was).  I thought about how nice it would be to write a poem about this or that and how I wish I could go back to my room and just write and write and write and write.  I thought about how I would write a pretentious poem about how I am especially inspired under such circumstances.

I considered it for a half a second before realizing I had obligations.  I have roughly ten psychological articles

This girl and I feel equal enthusiasm for doing
homework this evening: none.

sitting on my bed waiting to be read so I can write a paper on the evolutionary advantages of gossiping.  I have a novel to read by Monday and a two-page response paper to go along with it.  I have reading about Buddhism to do.  I have all of these things I have to do.

And then I thought, well, why do I have to do these things?  Yeah, I need to do them to get good grades, but why do I need to get good grades?  Well, I need to get good grades because I need to graduate in a good position, I need to be at the top.  And why do I need to do that?  To get a job, of course -- a good job.  Okay, but why do I need a good job?  So I can support myself, so I can live at the level of comfort I have become accustomed to.

Oh.  I see. (I thought as I went between a row of bushes and the gym.)

Money.

It always comes back to money.

Frustrated, I wondered for a half second if it was possible for the world to stop existing and relying on money.  If, instead, we could trade goods and labor for the things we needed.  People who loved to farm would farm -- but perhaps they could not write poetry, so they would go to their local poet, exchange a tomato for a poem.

I like that.  The way it works now, we are forced into doing things we don't really love or aren't really passionate about because we're obligated to earn money in order to eat.

I realized, rather quickly of course, that my fantasy economic system was impossible.  A full stomach, in the long run and from an evolutionary perspective, is far more valuable than a mind full of poetry.  Unfortunate, but true.

But maybe it's not so true.  Perhaps not in the case of poetry, but in entertainment.  If entertainment were not so valuable, we would not pay such a high price for it.  Admit it -- you have paid more money on a concert ticket or a sporting event ticket than you have ever paid on a copay to go to the doctor, who might have just saved your life.  To me, this suggests we value entertainment more than we value our lives.  At least in some ways.  I recognize that if someone gave you a choice between having surgery that will save your life or going to a sporting event, you would choose surgery -- that is, if you have $1,000 to spend and you need surgery, you aren't going to buy a ticket to the World Series.  Still, people who can afford to do both often do.  They spend that money on a game that lasts three or four hours (seven if it's a Red Sox/Yankees game).

I can't buy this with poetry.

So once again, I return to the question: why can't we trade our creations and abilities?  Is it because it takes a farmer a year to grow a crop and it takes me an hour to write a poem?  Is it because if people did what they actually wanted to do "for a living" there would be an imbalance of workers in various fields?  Is it because if we all did what we actually wanted to do, too many of us would get lost in the noise of people doing the same thing?

I just want to write (okay, I genuinely want to be a librarian, too).  But I can't do this because it doesn't pay enough (the writing part, not the librarian part -- but forget the librarian stuff for a second, because there are days where I don't want to do anything but write and that won't be possible in the future).  And I need that money for food.  I can't leave a poem on the table when I leave a restaurant.  That would probably result in my arrest or something.

I'm not an economist.  I am sure there are plenty of economists out there who can answer this question, but I'm just going to lament it.

In the mean time, if anyone wants to offer me dinner in exchange for a short story, you know where to find me.

Both images courtesy of Free Digital Photos.

Abusing the Writer

Stephenie Meyer, author of the Twilight series
and The Host.

With the release of another moved based on one of Stephenie Meyer's novels coming out this Friday, it's time we have a little chat about quality of literature.

I openly admit that I read Twilight no less than six times.  The first time I read the novel was in 2005 when I was thirteen.  Though I enjoyed it, I forgot about it for a while until the sequel, New Moon, came out.  Eclipse came after that.

I got relatively wrapped up in the hype and decided to attend the Midnight Release Party for Breaking Dawn at a local Barnes and Noble.  Although I was excited for the event, I felt embarrassed that I was going.  Many people I spoke with at that point thought the Twilight series was trash.

I knew then, and know now, too, that this is true.

But is there really anything wrong with reading trash literature?

Pick up a romance novel, an adventure series, a number of books -- chances are they are not great masterpieces.

Here are some of the complaints I've heard regarding the Twilight series:

1. Bella is a weak character and a bad role model.
2. The plot is predictable.
3. Edward and Bella's relationship is abusive.
4. The writing style is immature.

Like I said, these are only a few of the grievances.  Every one of them is valid, too.  Bella is indeed a weak character.  She is designed in a way that allows readers to project themselves into her character.  They can live the romance which Meyer writes.

The predictability of the plot, too is an issue -- but the target audience for the novel is teenagers (and typically on the younger side).  Teens who read novels for pleasure probably are not looking for something that keeps them guessing.  They are probably not even going into this book with a critical frame of mind (critical in the sense of predicting events of the novel, analyzing characters, etc. -- not criticizing).  The predictability of the plot is therefore irrelevant.

Edward and Bella's relationship is indeed, in many ways, an abusive one.  However, there are two things that come to mind when people argue this as one of the reasons teens should not read Twilight.  First -- this is a novel.  Most teens who read this novel are aware that it is fiction.  If they are really taking this novel that seriously, then perhaps they have bigger issues that should be looked at.  Second -- I'm not convinced the abusiveness of the relationship goes unpunished.  Bella experiences hallucinations in New Moon because of her dependence on Edward (which is arguably caused by his overwhelming presence/abusive presence in her life).  Her life is almost constantly in danger.  She is injured several times as a result of choosing to be with Edward.  Her friends question her choices regarding Edward.  There are multiple examples throughout that suggest that readers of the novel should not attempt to replicate Bella's relationship with Edward.

While writing style is an important piece of a novel, I don't think it should determine the "greatness" of it alone.  Yes, Meyer's writing style tends to be simple and she uses phrases over and over again with little variation in vocabulary, and even relies on cliches.  But again -- this novel is for young adults.  They read literature with higher diction for school.  Why can't they read something a little less sophisticated in its The Da Vinci Code (probably the first novel I read for pleasure intended for "adults"), I was shocked by how simplistic the writing style was, especially given its popularity and lack of the kind of criticism Meyer encountered.

This is not the correct way to respond to a novel
you dislike or address the people who read the novel.

language for pleasure?  When I read

Twilight is, from what I understand, Meyer's first attempt at writing a book.  While there are certainly flaws in it, I don't think it's the worst book ever.  Even if it were -- if some people like it, who are we to criticize them or make them feel embarrassed for it? Plus, the book was not written to be a literary masterpiece (all right -- I don't know if Meyer actually said that, but I think it's pretty safe to assume she was not setting out to rewrite A Tale of Two Cities or Pride and Prejudice [despite her many references to Shakespearean, Bronte and Austen works]), it was written to be enjoyed.

That said, The Host, based on Meyer's novel of the same title, is coming out this Friday.  I read the Host when it came out and was actually rather impressed with it.  Some of the concepts are relatively philosophical and the story asks a lot of important questions.  Regardless of your feelings on Meyer, I hope that you give the Host a read, especially if you plan on seeing the film.  And when you're reading it, or the next time you go to criticize Meyer's fans or her writing, remember that writing does not necessarily have to be great to be enjoyable.

Watch the trailer for The Host here.

Stephenie Meyer image courtesy of Pop Watch.
Twilight Sucks image courtesy of Fan Pop.

Just Ask: On Trans* People

Several weeks ago a friend of mine had a friend visit campus to do some sewing project.  Before the friend of the friend arrived (henceforth Casey), the friend (henceforth Penny) referred to Casey as "he."  I thought nothing of this.  Although I attend a women's college there is no rule against having male people visit.  My boyfriend visits frequently, as do many male significant others and friends of other women on campus.

When Casey joined us at dinner one evening, I realized I recognized this person.  Casey had visited during January 2012 and I retaught Casey to knit (or was it crochet?).  I told Casey just this and dinner went on.

I was, however, somewhat confused.  To me, Casey appeared to be physically female.  After going to a women's college for a few years, I have met and talked with people who openly identify as the gender opposite of what they were assigned at birth, or even no gender at all.  Still, I wanted to make sure I had heard Penny correctly earlier that week when she referred to Casey as "he."

I was a little afraid of the response I might receive.  While it seems to be unusual, some people get upset if you ask them what gender pronoun they prefer.  I decided to take a chance and simply said, "Hey, I vaguely remember Penny referring to you as something other than female.  Do you have a preferred gender pronoun I should use?"

Casey grinned, bounced in the chair a little, and asked if it would be okay if Casey hugged me.  (I promise, I'll start using pronouns soon; I know it's awkward.)  I said sure, Casey hugged me, and then explained.

"No one has ever asked me that before!  I'm just so excited that someone is so considerate!"

Casey then said that Casey preferred the genderless pronouns, "ze" and "hir" (pronounced "zee" and "here").  I said I would do my best to use those words.  We talked a little more on the subject, with Penny jumping in to admit her struggles with the switch in pronouns and how she struggled to understand what it meant.  Penny said she sometimes used "they" and "them" instead of "ze" and "hir" which seemed to suit Casey fine.

Although I had originally been afraid to ask, I was glad I had.  A lot of people do not get that option.  When I was a resident assistant to some first year students last year, all of my residents looked like they would identify as women.  Still, while they filled out "Scoop On You" forms (which had innocent questions such as "What's your favorite candy?" listed and "What name do you prefer to be called by?"), I encouraged them to let me know on the form (if they were comfortable) if they preferred a male or genderless pronoun.  No one did, so I used "she" and "her" with them all for the year.  There were no problems.

What was important, though, was that I gave them that option.  Many students, I think, coming into college, have not previously experienced someone who identifies as something other than their genitals would suggest.  I do not remember an instance in high school where I knew that someone identified as such.  After high school, I believe there are some students I attended the school with who now identify as female, whereas I knew them as male before.  College, it would seem, is an excellent opportunity to start anew, explore yourself and your options, and try things.

Because of the lack of exposure to this concept in high school, it can be a little jarring and even scary and confusing when someone first encounters it.  This, I think, is not anything personal with people who are trans*.  It's pretty clear that they are a minority (though not unimportant!) part of our population and when anyone experiences anything new, it's natural for them to be a little afraid.  This, however, does not mean that people who identify differently than "we" do should be harassed, ignored, or put down.  Instead, it is the duty of "the rest of us" to try to understand so we can be helpful allies and friends.

I will not pretend like I know everything there is to know about identifying as trans*.  I'm sure I made mistakes in word choices above and for that I apologize -- I am continuing to learn about the queer community and openly accept any corrections.

That said, if you are unfamiliar with the concept of being trans* or just want to learn more, I will link to some sites below that will hopefully be helpful resources for you.  The most valuable advice I can give you, however, is this: If you are unsure of how a person identifies or you have questions about "how it all works" -- just ask.  In my experience, people want to be asked.  They would much rather be asked than you assume.  I mean -- let's say you had blue skin: wouldn't you rather be asked why than have everyone assume you had decided to give up breathing?

Gender vs. Sex
KnowHomo
We Happy Trans

Trans Image courtesy of The Fallen Must Rise.

You're Ready for This

Recently I talked a little bit about taking risks and being brave.  I am going to discuss that a little bit more today, now that I have promised myself that I am going to follow through with some relatively scary plans for this summer.

Since my application for the Library of Congress Junior Fellows 2013 Internship was rejected (and don't worry -- I haven't given up hope for next year, and this time, I have a better plan to achieve that end), I have been doing a lot of thinking about what might happen this summer.  I worried a lot about money because at this point, I have to, and I worried about getting the most out of this summer -- that is, do something I would be excited to see on someone else's resume, let alone my own.  Basically, I had three options:

Stay at Hollins?

1. Stay in Roanoke at my school, work as a summer resident assistant and probably intern at the local library.  Pay would be involved for the summer resident assistant position, but it would be enough to live on for the summer and not much more.  (Sorry, Housing & Residence Life.)

Go back to New Hampshire
and McDonald's?

2. Go back to New Hampshire, have a more-or-less guaranteed job at McDonald's, maybe volunteer or intern at the local library.  Pay would be involved for McDonald's, but hours are never absolute.  I may have forty hours one week and four the next, which is not stable enough for my current position.  As for the library, I've interned there before and, while I did something that was important to the library, I don't feel I gained a lot of valuable experience.

Spend the summer in DC?

3. Risk everything -- go to the District of Columbia area for the summer.  Have an unlikely but potential internship at the local library (though duties are as of yet unknown, as are hours, and potential experience gain) where I will not receive monetary compensation.  Apply for other internships as the summer approaches, cross my fingers, and hope to do both the local library and another internship.  On top of this, write reviews for books for at least a little money.  And, oh, yeah -- write a novel.  A novel that may or may not be interactive with its audience.  Plus go out and talk to people a lot, because you never know who you might meet and how they can help you (or you help them).

As a person diagnosed with an panic disorder and depression, I am a naturally anxious person.  I am not someone who enjoys taking risks. Risks scare me, as they should.  All of these options, however, are relatively risky so, for once, I figured -- let's take the biggest risk.  If you haven't guessed yet, I'll be spending my summer in our nation's capital, working on beefing up my resume and LinkedIn profile.  The novel I have already begun planning (and written a whopping 167 words for).  I have continued to apply for relevant and interesting internships.  Friday, I reviewed a book as a paid trial run and am awaiting my verdict.

Before spring break, I was largely undecided as to what I was going to do this summer.  Before spring break, I had not heard from the Library of Congress and was (perhaps arrogantly, perhaps confidently) almost expecting a positive reply.  When that changed, I realized I needed to start making plans quickly.  I also realized that I was afraid to make those plans.

As I described in a recent post, I spent Thursday wandering around DC by myself -- a small event that was very scary for me.  But every time I succeeded that day (I took the correct route on the metro; I successfully arrived at the mall; I went through security in various museums by myself; I stayed alert and aware of my surroundings; I planned and located the correct station to meet my boyfriend in the afternoon; I waited while he finished work and kept myself occupied -- small victories, people, but important ones), I realized I was capable of making this summer a success, too, even if it meant doing something scary.

Something else that day really encouraged me to make this decision.  While going from the orange line to the red line (which required going upstairs), I saw an advertisement for a college.  While the fact that they were advertising for a college was irrelevant (I have my school and that's plenty expensive, thanks), the message they used to advertise struck me so that I took a picture of that advertisement.

As much as I've talked about all of this being a risk for me, many people would not consider it a risk -- I am not putting in anything, really.  I have nothing to lose at this point.

Except, from my point of view, I do.  What if I fail?

Yeah, what if?

But what if I succeed?

The advertisement at the metro station. I am ready for this.

McDonald's Image courtesy of SJPD.
All other photos mine.

Studs and Sluts

Warning: Adult Language

While I was exploring the city the other day, there were various things that caught my attention.  Like I did in eighth grade, there were many students stepping off of buses to tour the city.  Many of them were obnoxious but a set of three girls really made me realize how much of an impact attending Hollins University (a women's college) has made on me.  These girls also made me realize what a screwed up world we live in.

Clearly a little overwhelmed by everything going on around them, the girls got off the bus one by one.  It's really difficult to say how old they were -- they were as young as fourteen and as old as seventeen, I'd say.  All three wore a considerable amount of makeup, relatively tight jeans, and hoodies.  I knew these girls -- not personally, of course.  I knew them in the sense that they were characters that I had gone to school with.

These girls are the popular girls.  They fight frequently, draw on their shoes with pens, complain about school, spend most of their time "wit da boyz" or "at da mallllll!"  They smoke cigarettes, pot, both, or they at least pretend to.  And they call each other "bitch" for fun.

These three girls, then, are getting off the bus.  One of them stands near the curb, one steps off the bus, the other is in the middle.  Let's call the girl by the curb Chantelle, the one in the middle Shannon, and the one stepping off the bus Brianna.

Chantelle, annoyed that Brianna is taking so long, says, "Come on, whore."

At this point, I'm passing them on the sidewalk and I want to stop.  I want to shake her.  She apparently does not realize that by using this word in a joking or friendly manner only encourages the spread of the word.  It makes it okay for others to use the word, and in less friendly ways.

As I think about this later, I realize there is another layer of issues.

Why can't we use words like this in a friendly manner?  Why is there not a true positive female equivalent for "player" or "stud"?  Why can't we use "slut" or "whore" in that capacity?

These words have negative connotations.  They have inherited these connotations, I believe, simply because they are intended for women and not men.  In preparing for this post, I looked up the dictionary definitions of "slut" and "whore."  They are, according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary online, as follows:

Whore: a woman who engages in sexual acts for money : prostitute; also : a promiscuous or immoral woman

Slut: a : a promiscuous woman; especially : prostitute
b : a saucy girl : minx

For "slut" I have omitted the "chiefly British" definition, because these were words spoken less than a mile from America's Capitol Building.

Meanwhile, the definition for "stud" is:

Stud: a young man : guy; especially : one who is virile and promiscuous
b : a tough person
c : hunk

The difference in connotations between these two words are clear.  A slut is a tease, a bitch, a "saucy girl", a "minx".

The only relatively measurable adjective the definitions share is "promiscuous."  When it is paired with "stud" we also see "virile".  "Virile" typically means boyish, which we can infer a sense of health from.  Youth and health are always good things.  Therefore, a "stud" is a good thing.

But a "saucy girl" is frustrating, teasing, maybe even powerful -- and society does not like their women powerful.

That a slut is associated with prostitution is a further issue.  While I am not aware of knowing any prostitutes personally, I am sure there are plenty of prostitutes out there who either a) recognize that sex work is just that -- work, or b) take pride in their work.  While it may not be always the most hygienic job on the planet, it is a job and, if I understand correctly, potentially lucrative.  Why do we have to shame people for doing a job?  Surely, if these women (and men, of course) did not work as prostitutes, they would be condemned for relying on welfare by some members of society.  So why do we insist on using "slut" (a sometimes-synonym for "prostitute") as an insult?

I have issue, too, with the phrase "slut shaming" even when used as someone saying, "We should not be slut-shaming individuals."  Although it is a step in the right direction, the phrase still implies that being a "slut" is a bad thing.

A woman sleeps with many men and she is a slut.  She is a whore.  She is dirty and stupid and unfit for good company.

A man sleeps with many women and he is a stud.  He is a player.  He is to be admired and worshiped and would make a great best friend for all of the potential sexual access you (a man, of course) could gain.

It makes no sense to me that "slut" should be a bad word.  "Slut" should be a compliment, just like "stud" is.  But because the word has been used with a negative connotation for so long, it is no longer a bad word.

So these girls getting off the bus might be right -- "Come on, whore."

Maybe this girl, Bri, has a lot of sexual access.  And, while I'm not entirely sure high school students are educated enough to healthfully manage one sexual relationship, let alone many, I will not condemn her for having such access.  Because God knows we wouldn't shame Joe for sleeping with Bri, Chantelle, and Shannon.

Definition Images screenshots of Merriam-Webster Dictionary website, 23 March 2013.

Home of the Brave: On Doing Things Even When You're Scared

So a few days ago, I decided at least one day during spring break I would spend exploring the District of Columbia.  I determined yesterday to be the day and woke up around 9:00 because my boyfriend had left at some crazy hour in the morning (like, 6:00?) and there was some apartment inspection supposed to happen and I didn't want to be around for that.  So I left around 9:15 and headed toward the Ballston Metro Station.

I'm going on an adventure!

When I left, I wished I had packed some warmer clothes.  It was around thirty degrees and even though I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a sweatshirt over it, I was pretty cold.  I think it was mostly the wind causing the unbearable-ness of it all and I considered turning back because not only was it cold, but I was afraid.  I'd never gone on the metro myself before, never explored a city by myself before, and I am a relatively small female.

I set out with my phone in my pocket and the lanyard of my keys wrapped around my left hand, should I need to use them as a weapon.  (The plan was to swing them in the face of anyone who might attack me, like some kind of mace.)  I had, before leaving, considered bringing my camera battery charger and my iPod, but I decided not to.  The fewer valuable things I had on me the better and if I had headphones on, I would be less aware of my surroundings which could be dangerous.

I stopped in the mall on the way so I could get some breakfast at Starbucks.  I felt a little foolish because I was the only one drinking an iced coffee, but I'm not a big fan of most hot drinks, so I just sat down and kept to myself while eating my slice of pumpkin bread/cake and drinking a tall iced coffee.

From there I knew it was no turning back.  I took the sky walk over the street to the metro station, headed down the escalators and took a long hard look at the map so I was absolutely sure of my plan.  Eight stops on the orange line, get off at 12th and F, walk the rest of the way to the National Mall.

On the metro, I observed the number of men wearing headphones and the number of women doing the same.  There had to be at least a dozen men I saw throughout the day with headphones and I don't recall seeing a single woman wearing them.  I don't think it's coincidence; I think it's a result of violence against females.

I got off the metro, found another map on the street, determined my route and continued on up 12th Street.  It was a long walk, but I was excited for the adventure because, as much as I daydream, I am not the adventurous type.  I mean, I got all excited in The Hobbit when Bilbo said, "I'm going on an adventure!" and wished I was brave enough to do the same.  And here I was, doing just that.  I had no actual plan beyond getting there and everything was new.

Clinton's dress left; Bush's dress right.

The first museum that came into view was the Museum of American History.  I went in the back entrance, had my bag looked in, went through a metal detector, and was on my merry way.  I've been to this museum three times now.  I'm always hoping there will be something at least a little new, but there never seems to be any new exhibits.  I stopped by the food exhibit and saw Julia Child's kitchen for the second or third time and then headed to my favorite exhibit, which is about the First Ladies of the United States.  I'm not sure what it is that fascinates me so much about this exhibit.  I do like seeing the evolution of fashion in the Inaugural Ball gowns.  I think Hillary Clinton's sparkly blue dress is my favorite, although there are a lot of good ones in there.  Then I went to an African American history exhibit which focused on the march of 1963.  It was kind of dark and everyone mostly crowded around Abraham Lincoln's suit and hat rather than the actually important stuff and that kind of frustrated me so I left.

I stopped by to see Kermit the Frog after that, saw a wedding dress made out of a parachute of a 1940s soldier, and a baseball signed by the 1937 New York Yankees.  (I'm torn between booing and saying, "Yay, baseball!")  I decided to leave after that because there were some obnoxious teenagers shoving each other around and some confused and excited little kids running all over the place.

Although I had decided not to before, I ended up going to the Museum of Natural History because dinosaurs.  I wandered through the marine life exhibit, then a little bit of the mammals (because hello cute furry things) and then headed over to the dinosaurs.  I still am always surprised by how small tyrannosaurus rexes actually are.  I mean, they're certainly bigger than I am, but they're not exactly skyscrapers.  It was the most crowded exhibit and I was frustrated at not being able to see what I wanted to see and decided to move on to another museum.  My camera started to die in the meantime and I cursed myself for not charging the battery the night before and for deciding not to bring the charger with me.  I later realized I had my iPad with me and could take pictures with that, if need be.

The art museum was entirely new to me.  Of all three or four times I've been to DC previously, I had never bothered with the art museum, largely because people who were with me were not interested.  It was decidedly empty (not literally but there were very few people) but I got excited plenty of times walking through and getting lost in the maze-like building.  I started with an exhibit that had pieces of manipulated photography pre-Photoshop.  Then I saw some stuff that had to do with light and color.  I'm not very scholarly when it comes to art, so bear with me for now.

I saw some sculptures and some dishware along with plenty of paintings.  One of the coolest things I saw was a chalice that had been made in two different eras.  The cup of it was made in 1 or 2 BC and then the handle and base created in the 1400s.  I saw some paintings from the 1400s as well, which was really cool.

Painting of Marie Antoinette

I was mostly excited to see portraits of Marie Antoinette and Madam du Barry, both of which I've spent a lot of time looking at because of my fascination with Marie Antoinette.  It was pretty cool to see them right in front of me.

I had gotten a text while I was in the museum but cell phone use was prohibited so after I checked out the second floor for a while I went on my way and picked up my checked backpack before heading out.  At that point I realized my phone, too, was almost dead.  My boyfriend and I had planned to meet at some point during the day and he had texted me saying he'd be ready in about a half-hour.  Unfortunately, it was going to take me too long to walk back down to 12th and then down 12th itself to get to the metro, so I said I'd come by later and that my phone might die so I might be contacting him by email.  By some miracle and conservative use my phone lasted the rest of the day.

I walked up towards the Capitol building and then picked a bench to sit on and write for a while while watching some people play ultimate frisbee on the grass.  Some of them were wearing shorts and I thought they were crazy.  After I got sick of sitting still in the cold wind (and a little afraid of losing a lot of peripheral vision because I had my hood up to stay warm), I walked up closer to the Capitol building and admired it for a while before turning around.  I texted my boyfriend and told him I was on the way to Union Station to meet him and he could come whenever he had time or was ready.

I'm not sure how long the walk took me but I felt more confident with each landmark I recognized on the walk back that I was going the correct way.  I came upon the Columbia Square station where I had left the metro relatively easily and got back on the metro after examining more maps.  I made the trip easily enough, found the correct station.  My boyfriend suggested we meet at the Barnes and Noble in Union Station and, because it was recently closed, the sign was gone so it took me forever to find him after I had pretty much walked through the entire building.

Me hanging out near the Capitol building

I got a slice of pizza, having had nothing to eat since Starbucks, and a Coke and he waited patiently while I scarfed it down.  Then we went to another Starbucks so he could get a coffee and I got a piece of lemon cake because I was still pretty hungry.  We hung out together for a while and then he showed me how to get to his office from Union Station should I need to.  I went back downstairs to the food court to write for a while and ended up writing over twenty pages in my journal, just writing down what people around me were doing and planning out my novel-in-the-works (which is also going to serve as my thesis, now that I've been invited to do an Honors Thesis at my school!)

After that, my boyfriend met me upstairs in front of the not-Barnes-and-Noble around 5:30 and we got on the metro together.  I had managed to not be motion sick all day on the metro, but in the evening it was pretty bad.  I stood and stared at whatever objects I could fix my eyes on for as long as I could.  I'm beginning to wonder if how crowded the train is has anything to do with it.

We got off the metro, finally, and walked the rest of the way to his apartment.  When we arrived the smoke detector was beeping from low battery so we left shortly after to get batteries, milk (for me, mostly), and get dinner.  We had originally planned to cook but ended up going to Dogfish Head where we both got burgers.  For once, I ate more than he did -- probably from walking around all day.

We went home and I camped out in the living room on the floor while he worked at his desk.

I was scared a lot of yesterday, but at the end of the day, I had accomplished so much.  Being brave is not doing just doing scary things -- being brave is doing things even though they scare you.  And that's exactly what I did.

The Hobbit Image courtesy of Bad Ass Digest.
Marie Antoinette Painting Image courtesy of Wikimedia.
All other images mine.

On Cross-Dressing in Cartoons

Bugs Bunny

Throughout cartoon history, characters have introduced children to cross-dressing characters.  While it's clear that these scenes involving characters "dressed as the opposite sex" are typically intended for comedic purposes, there are a few that seem to be attempting to make social commentary.  One of the most popular examples of this that I've seen has been floating around Tumblr.

The instance I'm referring to includes two screenshots from the popular PBS show Arthur.  I grew up watching Arthur and, while I do not remember a whole lot of social commentary on the show at that time, this example is fairly subtle.  Kids watching the show now might not pick up on the gravity of the brief exchange between Arthur, a male aardvark, and Buster, a male rabbit.

Putty Person and Dr. Night

While looking through an encyclopedia of various comic book characters to idolize, Arthur flips through page after page of characters he has no interest in.  The first of these characters introduced to the audience is Putty Person.  While the name of the character is sexually ambiguous, its image is almost decidedly male.  The character appears to be slipping between the slats of a grate, using his stretchy body to move between them easily.  Next is Dr. Night -- another gender-less character in name, but presumably male based on the silhouette portrayed in the book.  He stands over a sleeping, jailed criminal (the criminal wears the traditional black-and-white striped suit) menacingly, but is not actively showing power.

The comes Queen Sapphirella.  The name is clearly female in both sections.  Queen is inherently a female marker (at least as far as the most of the knowledge of the children watching this show goes), and the -ella ending further suggests a female gender (think Cinderella, Carmella, Isabella).  Despite these obviously female suggestions, part of the superhero's name is "sapphire."  Sapphire, of course, is blue -- a color traditionally associated with the male gender (at least in recent history).  The image of the woman hero is strikingly more aggressive and active than the two before her.  Queen Sapphirella fights a serpent which is coiled around her legs.  While she is clearly physically female, I would not argue that she is sexualized, as many female comic book characters tend to be.

Queen Sapphirella

The camera pulls back to reveal Arthur and Buster standing at the desk where the book is open.  Arthur exclaims, "I can't dress up as a girl!" and Buster replies, "That's kind of narrow-minded, don't you think?"  The camera resumes its position above the book, showing Queen Sapphirella wrestling with the snake once again, as if to emphasize her power and Buster's rebuttal to Arthur's protestation.

Arthur turns the page and Queen Sapphirella is quickly forgotten: Manacle appears on the next page, wielding a heavy metal ball attached to a length of chain.  He is not attacking anything in particular, but is holding a more active stance than either Putty Person or Dr. Night.

This very brief scene and Buster's even briefer comment is an incredibly subtle way of impressing feminism and gender stereotyping on children who watch the show.  Arthur, for the time being, backtracks some and chooses Manacle (until he discovers that Manacle is not all Arthur thought he was).  To make an entire episode blatantly about accepting cross-dressing, transgender, and transsexual individuals might be too progressive at the moment.  But this small step is important.

Certainly there are male cartoon characters who have dressed as females.  Both Bugs Bunny and Spongebob Squarepants have used this tactic for laughs in multiple episodes.  Arthur takes a more serious approach and, while probably coaxing a few giggles out of their child audience, they are probably also planting an idea of acceptance there.  And their parents, watching over their shoulder, might be willing to just water that seedling.

Spongebob and Patrick dressed in traditional gender-role
clothing.

Spongebob Squarepants has, in the past, addressed same-sex couple issues.  In "Rock A Bye Bivalve", Spongebob and Patrick adopt a baby clam.  While Patrick adopts the traditional male father role, Spongebob takes on the position of a housewife, who quickly becomes frustrated after Patrick contributes little to the household.  The episode manages to comment both on gender roles and same-sex marriages at once.

When I heard about "The Secret Origin of Supernova", I was immediately impressed.  With the new law in Arizona coming to a head and other issues popping up globally, that children's shows are willing to take on this topic is phenomenal and, quite frankly, brave.  Arthur took a huge risk in slipping this dialogue into their show, and I commend them for reminding children to have open minds.

"The Secret Origin of Supernova" can be viewed at YouTube.
Bugs Bunny Image from Bugs In Drag No. 1.
"The Secret Origin of Supernova" Images from The Secret Origin of Supernova.
"Rock A Bye Bivalve" Image courtesy of We Got This Covered.

On Disappointment

As many of you know, since last July I have been working for the Library of Congress Junior Fellows 2013 Internship.  Today I received an email that very simply stated:

Dear: Junior Fellow Intern Applicant

You submitted an application for Junior Fellow Summer Intern 2013, at the Library of Congress. We appreciate your interest in this position, however another candidate was selected.

To access other employment opportunities at the Library of Congress, please visit WWW.LOC.GOV

I have read this email at least a dozen times since receiving it at 1:03 this afternoon.  Going into the application process, I figured I had a slim chance if any.  People around me suggested my chances were greater than that.  I believed them.

They may be right -- maybe I was in the last batch of applicants.  Right now, it just hurts.

Just hours before I was saying to my boyfriend that I had not yet heard from the Library of Congress but I would, any day now, get a phone call to schedule an interview.  I never made it to the interview process.  I will never know what it was I did wrong.  I will never have a chance to defend myself.  And it hurts.

A lot of you are probably thinking, "Oh get over it," or, "There are other opportunities out there," or a million other things to the same effect.  But I think it's important to be sad and upset for a while before I'm okay again.  I put a lot of effort into this -- I updated my resume, filled out a government style application, wrote and edited a cover letter, breathed new life into campaigns and started others to ensure my visibility in public service online, networked like crazy, and put a lot of emotional energy into this process.

I have back up plans, of course, but none of them are very appealing.  Fewer of those opportunities pay than don't pay which is a huge issue as tuition recently increased and I'm going into my last year of undergrad.  A lot of people have just said, "Oh, just go work at McDonald's for another summer -- it won't kill you."  The thing is, it will.  Working at McDonald's, for me, is incredibly depressing.  It's repetitive and frequently degrading.  While the work there is good work and it pays, I have outgrown the position.  I can take orders in my sleep while bagging salad dressing.  I am ready for something more and have been for some time.  Returning to McDonald's will kill my soul.  It is not that I am "too good" for McDonald's, as many of you may be inclined to comment.  I am simply not challenged there anymore and I cannot remain in a place that does not challenge me.  To stay in a place that does not challenge me would result in no personal growth, which is akin to death.

Other back up plans involve waiting on hearing back from internships.  I don't feel like I'm a particularly good writer, nor do I feel like I am very good at anything else.

Also, at this point, I would like to acknowledge and recognize that this is a rather self-indulgent post.  That said, I hope others in the same position will at least feel that they are not alone and maybe even, by the end, inspired to move on.  I am not writing this post for pity.  I am aware that my readership tends to be low so forgive me if, for once, I do something for myself.

After reading my rejection today, I looked into other possible internships in the area.  What is most frustrating is that I am not qualified for many of these internships.  This is utterly ridiculous.  So many of these internships require experience in such-and-such, but isn't gaining experience what internships are supposed to be about?  I suppose it's reasonable to expect some know-how when it comes to basic computer applications, but to expect knowledge of HTML and customer service?  While I personally own both of these skills, there are plenty of skills out there that I have no experience with and part of my motivation for obtaining an internship is to gain these very skills.  Companies and organizations are hurting themselves in this -- by narrowing their potential applicant pool, they lose many valuable potential applicants, even if these applicants do not know how to code.

I am in the planning stages of a project for this summer.  Regardless of what I end up doing this summer, I will simultaneously be executing a project that I hope to use Kickstarter to aid.  I hope you will come back to hear updates on that project and learn along with me.









Hire Me Image courtesy of Manipal Blog.
I Don't Care Image courtesy of Pulp Factor.

On Piercings

Starting in fifth grade, I became obsessed with Good Charlotte.  I think I've spoken a little bit about this in previous posts, but my point is different, so bear with me.  On the walls of the room which I shared with my brother at the time, I once counted 146 pictures of members of the band or the band.  It was a little out of hand.  For Halloween, I was a "Good Charlotte stalker" and was offended when people asked me if I was a rock star.  It was pretty bad.

Billy Martin with nose, lip, and eyebrow
piercings.

My favorite member of the band was guitarist, Billy Martin.  He had awesome hair (which I replicated as soon I was brave enough to cut off and donate twenty-four plus inches of hair), awesome guitars (I still want a Paul Reed Smith -- anyone feeling like a guitar donation to your favorite blogger?), and sweet piercings (I liked the tattoos on him, but I would never get one myself).  It was around sixth grade that I decided I wanted a nose piercing, a lip piercing, and an eyebrow piercing.

Well, Mom and Dad said no of course.  I sated myself with just dying my hair unnatural colors for the time being.  I started with and stuck with purple for a long time, then moved onto blue and pink and green and yellow, sometimes a combination of two.

When I was sixteen, I realized I could not get a facial piercing -- no one would hire me if I did.  I mean, I could work at Hot Topic, but the two Hot Topics in my general area were at least twenty minutes away each (closer to a half hour, really, sometimes longer depending on traffic) and I couldn't justify the distance.  If I took a job that far away, I would essentially be paid just enough to pay for gas to get to the job, which defeated a large purpose of having a job in the first place.

I ended up working at a McDonald's that I sold my soul to for minimum wage.  I was told, upon being hired, that I could not have an unnatural hair color.  Desperate for some money, I agreed and dyed it back to a plain brown.

The minute I left McDonald's to go to college, I dyed my hair yellow and purple.  I went in the next day to the place I previously called work as a sort of "ha-ha."  I wasn't laughing so much when I had to go back two years later, desperate for money again and willing to sell my soul for a job even if it was degrading and they made me dye my hair back again -- that time I dyed it black, in mourning of the cute pink that I had to get rid of.

In my first year of college, I once again considered getting the piercings I wanted years previous.  I had at least until Thanksgiving to hide it from my parents, by then the holes might be healed enough to take the piercings out for the week that I would be home.  But I couldn't go behind my parents' backs.  They said no and, even though I was eighteen, I still didn't watch movies I was told I wasn't allowed to watch (including Chicago, which I ended up giving into the next year, because I was twenty and, well -- really?  Chicago?  It was PG-13.  Turns out they didn't care.).  I didn't swear, I did well in school, I called every day, I couldn't go behind their backs for some piercings.  So, even though my roommate went and got a tattoo which she told her mother about after, I did nothing.

I asked Mom and Dad again and I was told that if I did go and get a piercing, they would no longer fund my college tuition.  Now, let's see -- piece of metal on my face or valuable education/piece of paper?  No brainer.

MxPx (Yuri, Mike, Tom)

Last night while listening to MxPx on my computer and just generally being awake and lying in bed, it occurred to me that I had never gotten any of the piercings I wanted.  And I still wanted them.

I thought about how I used to take this small hoop earring that I had that didn't have a sharp end but still went through the pierced hole in your ear and put it over my bottom lip.  There are few times when I will compliment myself but I can tell you this: I can pull off a hoop ring just fine.  Occasionally I tricked people and told them I had gotten a piercing.  Later I'd take it out and show them there was no hole.  Just wishful thinking.

I am twenty-one years old.  I have one year left of college.  After that, it will be even more difficult for me to justify a piercing.  While I think it's possible for a young adult librarian to get away with it (I'm connecting with the kids, what do you want from me?), it wouldn't be easy.  I can't go and get one now because, if things work out, I'll be spending this summer working at the Library of Congress.  I have refrained from dying my hair again for this very purpose.

But maybe, at the end of the summer, I'll get someone to stick a needle through my lip and thread a piercing through.

Because I'm already regretting not just doing what I wanted for once.  I should have done it my first year.  Sorry Mom and Dad -- I'm tired of behaving, and this is hardly committing murder.

Billy Martin image courtesy of Buzznet.
MxPx image courtesy of Fantart.tv.

Betwixt: Between Good and Bad

Betwixt, a young adult fantasy novel by Tara Bray Smith follows the summer between Ondine's junior and senior year of high school.  As artist, Ondine sees things that no one else seems to see.  While attempting to repress her belief of these strange visions, others around her are struggling in similar ways.  Nix, a young man addicted to "dust" sees rings of light around people whose death is imminent and Morgan sleepwalks, waking with dirt and blood on her skin.

Then James Motherwell, or "Moth" enters the picture.  He invites the three teenagers to the Ring of Fire where a popular band called the Flame will be playing.  The party, an event to be held in the woods, ends up offering few answers but raising many more questions.  From this point forward, the three teens, scared and confused, try to realize who they are and what their purposes are.

The novel begins slowly, but the slow pace is not a deterrent.  Smith keeps the beginning of the novel afloat with a lyrical writing style and unique similes.  However, as the novel progresses, and the pacing speeds, the proportions spent on each "act" of the novel seem off, and to the point of distraction.

Bray attempts, in this novel, to mix traditional fae lore with what I believe is her own brand of faerie.  There are subtle nods to other fantasy literature, one of which I believe is "dust" and J.M. Barrie's world of Peter Pan.  Unfortunately, this odd mix was never explained very well or fully.  Bray's lack of evident world building makes the plot of the novel difficult to follow.

Her characters are equally undefined and, for a good chunk of the novel I was unsure which characteristics wer associated with which characters.  Ultimately, this made the motivations of the characters difficult to pinpoint, particularly with Morgan and Tim "Bleek" Bleeker.

Bray leaves a lot of unanswered questions at the end of the book and even acknowledges it through the narrator of the novel.  While I appreciated the kind of ending she employed, I felt more answers should have been offered earlier in the novel and that it was impractical to put as much information and plot into one book as she did.

The Fault in Our Stars: Better than "Okay"

Last year, I took a class called Advanced Expository Writing.  For this class, one of the assignments was to write a review of a movie, restaurant, book, or anything else we could think of.  Having just read John Green's much-anticipated (I pre-ordered it about seven months before it came out) The Fault in Our Stars just a few months before our professor gave this assignment, I chose to write about that book, largely because I can count on one hand how many books have made me cry and this was one of them.  Here is that review.

YA Author John Green

John Green, a New York Times Bestselling Author, is never short on poignant remarks.  The author, vlogger, former children’s hospital chaplain, and sometimes-historian recently released the young adult novel The Fault in Our Stars with Dutton Books.  After signing all 150,000 copies of the first printing of The Fault in Our Stars (henceforth Fault), Green’s dedication to his readers and his fan base has been proven.  Fault is an extraordinary, touching, insightful book that will, as Green hoped, “will make you feel all of the things!”

The first of his novels to be narrated by a female and inspired by both his time as a chaplain and Green fan Esther Earl, Fault begins in the “seventeenth year” of a young woman’s life whose name is Hazel Grace Lancaster.  Hazel, diagnosed with cancer in her early teens, is withdrawn and depressed according to her mother and doctor.  As a result, she begins attending group therapy where she meets Augustus Waters, a boy in remission.  Chronicling their time together, the book follows Hazel and her friends, her trip to Amsterdam, dealing with being a “grenade,” falling in love, and how “okay” comes to mean so much more.

Like Green’s other novels, Looking for Alaska; An Abundance of Katherines; Paper Towns; Will Grayson, Will Grayson; and Let It Snow, Fault is exceedingly smart and, while catching onto inside jokes (mostly from Green’s YouTube vlog) or allusions adds to the novel, the book is accessible and enjoyable no matter your level of obscure knowledge, something Green seems to enjoy packing into his stories.  These allusions are especially important because it says so much about Green’s attitude toward teens.  “Teenagers are plenty smart. I don’t sit around and worry whether teenagers are smart. I mean, most of the people currently reading The Scarlet Letter and The Great Gatsby…are teenagers,” Green wrote on his blog, TFiOS Questions Answered, and reminds his viewers frequently in his YouTube vlog which he began with his younger brother, Hank, in 2007.

Cover for The Fault in Our Stars

This honest, insightful book both breaks and mends the heart at once, reminding the reader of their humanity.  Green attaches his reader to his characters with clever, if sometimes forgivably unrealistic, dialogue.  Meanwhile, his beautifully flowing sentences reminds the reader of the intricate and ornate phrasing of Shakespeare – his play Julius Caesar being the title’s inspiration – though decidedly more readable and modern.  The novel begins with one such sentence, quickly introducing the reader to Green’s lengthy, flowing style: “Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my abundant free time to thinking about death.”  Green’s style is not limited to list sentences and is often injected with splashes of humor, as later in the chapter in which he writes, “Like, I realize that this is irrational, but when they tell you that you have, say, a 20 percent chance of living five years, the math kicks in and you figure that’s one in five…so you look around and think, as any healthy person would: I gotta outlast four of these bastards.”  These bursts of humor and conversational tone make the book comfortable despite the tragic circumstances of the main characters.

In reading Fault readers not only gain a new understanding of themselves and the world around them but also a whole community of other readers where Green is just another neighbor.  No matter your age this young adult novel will move you in a way no other novel has before or probably ever will.

* John Green’s official website is www.johngreebooks.com, and he can be followed on Tumblr at www.fishingboatproceeds.tumblr.com/.  For more information on The Fault in Our Stars, visit any of the previously mentioned websites for more links, including Green’s TFiOS Questions Answered blog.

John Green image courtesy of Daily Dot.
The Fault in Our Stars cover image courtesy of Wikipedia.

Authors Online

One of the best things about the internet is the ability to connect with low-profile celebrities.  Of course, I don't mean "low-profile" as an insult.  In fact, I prefer "low-profile" celebrities because you can admire them just as much as you might a "high-profile" celebrity, but they're more accessible.

Author Holly Black

Several years ago, I wrote to my favorite author at the time, Holly Black.  She is still one of my favorite authors, but I don't know that she's my absolute favorite at the moment.  (Actually, I don't think I have an absolute favorite right now.)  In any case, I wrote her a letter and felt that, because she lived in Amherst, Massachusetts (not too far from where I lived), I had a good chance of getting a response from her.

While I expected a response, I was not convinced I would get actual answers to the several questions I posed to her.  I included questions about how she did her research for her books and if she liked the Boston Red Sox (because if she didn't, that would be a deal-breaker -- just kidding, but it was important to me).  A few weeks after mailing out the letter, I received a handwritten note back from her, answering all of my questions in detail.  I think this is a pretty phenomenal thing.

Now, if I had written to Johnny Depp, chances are I would never have gotten such a response, let alone a response at all.

Holly also included some stickers that promoted her books, one of which was autographed.  I really appreciated that she took the time to answer my questions thoughtfully and became determined to be an author like her.  (Of course, that meant getting published first, but it's all details.)

Although I sincerely advocate for the Post Office and letter writing (see my post: My Baby Just Wrote Me a Letter), websites like Tumblr and Facebook have given fans an opportunity for authors and their fans to interact on a more immediate schedule.  Tumble, for example, allows its users to submit questions to blogs which they follow and authors are likely to answer questions they receive.  Of course, I can't speak to the number of questions that go unanswered, but my dashboard (the news feed of Tumblr) typically has at least a few questions answered by the authors I follow at any given time.

I imagine this also depends largely on the author, but the authors I follow (Holly Black, Cassandra Clare, Maureen Johnson, and John Green to name a few) tend to interact with their fans and followers rather frequently.

In addition to interacting directly, authors also post content that is more personal in nature on their blogs.  Holly Black's Pinterest account, for example, includes pins of clothing she likes, quotes about writing, and research for her novels.  It's a really great way to get to know your favorite authors.  And if you're like many readers and are shy, then you don't even have to actually talk to the author in order to learn more about them on a more personal level.

Tumblr is a popular site for authors.

I'm sure there are authors out there who pay people to run their blogs for them.  At a writing conference I went to last month, some writers discussed serving as ghost writers on blogs.  While they weren't necessarily ghost writing for authors, there are certainly instances of that out there.  Of course, I couldn't say which blogs exemplify this as the point of a ghost writer is to be just that -- a ghost writer, that is, someone who you cannot "see" or are not aware of (hence "ghost").  (Sorry for the poor phrasing there.  I'm just doing a bit of word vomit at the moment, so this post is a bit less organized than typically if you're just joining my magical circle of readers.)

This interaction between writers and their fans creates a great camaraderie between not only the authors and their fans but also the fans themselves.  Because of the internet, people get to meet other people who share their interests.  They can discuss the "meaning" behind their favorite works and get excited about author announcements.

Plus, authors can get direct feedback from their fans.  I once wrote a review on Livejournal for a young adult novel called Geek Magnet by Kate Brian.  Shortly after posting, the author commented on my post, noting that she had not thought of her main character the way I had perceived her.  She seemed grateful for the feedback and I was glad that at least one author took the time to read reviews of their actual readers than of just people who are professional critics.

As much as I love old fashioned things like letters and "real books" (see my last post), I love the internet, too.  It's a great tool to connect with people directly and to get into communities you might not have otherwise.

Authors I Follow on Tumblr
John Green
Holly Black
Cassandra Clare
Maureen Johnson

Search your favorite author on Google with "tumblr" or any other social media platform (Twitter is another popular one) and see what comes up!  Just be aware that there are fakes out there.

Holly Black image courtesy of Strange and Fascinating.
Tumblr logo image courtesy of Tumblr's Twitter.

Books and Digital Books: A Proposal

Here's one of those offending and assaulting displays.
No, Barnes and Noble, your Apple-like set-up will not
convince me to purchase a Nook. (Nor will your lack
of capitalization.)

If you had asked me four months ago my opinions of Kindles, Nooks, and other e-readers, I might have hissed at you.  For the last few years, my parents have been asking if I wanted one for Christmas, my friends have been encouraging me to jump on the e-reader bandwagon, and Amazon and Barnes and Noble have been assaulting me with large advertisements and displays.

In mid-January, I came into an iPad mini and, knowing that I could use the Kindle app to read online content and pdf's more comfortably on a tablet than I could on my computer, I decided to download it.  Then I saw someone I knew had written a book and was having a free-download day and figured, why not?  And a group of people I knew, including the one mentioned before, wrote a book together and did the same thing.  Once again, I figured, why not?  My boyfriend read a book on information that he wanted me to read, so he sent it to my Kindle address.  Why not?

A whole bunch of why nots allowed me to read while biking or elliptical-ing at the gym while listening to music.  This was surprisingly helpful for me and I wished I had thought of it before.  One of the main reasons I disliked working out was that I wasn't being mentally stimulated enough to keep me interested, even if I was listening to music on my iPod.  I had considered audio books to remedy that, but I liked having a "beat" to workout to and pace me, and I had never been a big fan of audio books, either.

Okay, so I caved a little.  I downloaded some old books that were public domain from Project Gutenberg, including Peter Pan, Anna Karenina (which I haven't yet finished) and A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.  But I only ever read my Kindle books while working out (except Peter Pan, that one I did read in bed a few times).

I still prefer "real" books to electronic books.  I like that I can hold it, that I can turn the pages, that I can sense how much is left in the book (which you can kind of do with the Kindle app by touching the screen and seeing the progress bar at the bottom appear), that I can easily mark things (yeah, you can highlight and search, but I still think it's easier to find passages in "real" books), and I just like "real" books better in general.

But today, while biking away my various anxieties (and hopefully some pounds), I thought, "Wouldn't it be nice if I could purchase a "real" book and then scan a code or something into my Kindle and automatically have access to a digital copy?"

Yeah, wouldn't it be nice?

Not that kind of book thief.

I spoke with my boyfriend on the phone about this after getting back from the gym.  He argued that people would be likely to share codes with each other in order to get free copies -- those book thieves.  "Ah!" I said, "But people already do that!  If there's a way to pirate something, people will do it.  Plus, it's possible to have single-download codes."  Software, such as Microsoft Office, limits the number of downloads (typically to one or two computers).  While I'm sure there are ways around this limit, I'm certainly not savvy enough to know it, nor do I feel its worth the effort to try to get around it for a copy of the software -- I'm a lazy person, sue me.

Okay, so we buy a book at a bookstore; bookstores get some revenue, they're able to stay in business.  Great.  Then, on the receipt (and I say the receipt because if the code was just on the inside of the book or something, people could easily write it down while at the bookstore, download it at home, and essentially steal that one download from whoever ends up purchasing the book), print the download code.  For further protection, maybe you need to enter the pin of the debit/credit card with which you bought the book (unless you paid with cash, in which case, I don't have a solution yet).

So you buy the book and the bookstores are happy and the publishers are happy and you're happy because you have a hard copy should you ever bump into the author of said book and want to have it signed (because having a signed Kindle just isn't as awesome or practical).  You're also happy because you now have a more portable copy available to you, should want to, say, take it to the gym or on a trip.

I think this is a pretty good compromise.  While I don't know a whole lot about the cost of producing electronic copies of books, I imagine this concept is not too unreasonable to work.  Obviously I do not currently have the connections to pursue this, but I figure I'll throw it out into the big ocean that is the internet and if someone wants to put this interaction, have your people call my people and we'll talk.

No, but really.  This should be a thing.  Someone make this a thing, please?

Dreams, Sleep, and Reading

Have you ever had a dream that, even though it was just a dream and not a real representation of the person with whom you interacted in that dream, causes your perception of and relationship with that person in the dream to change?

That was me, last night.  It was weird and uncomfortable and it will take some time before I am able to look at the person in that dream normally again.  Oy.

I was able to get a decent amount of sleep last night, even though I stayed up doing reading for homework that I didn't know was due next week until this morning.  I also was up typing my notes from Evolutionary Psychology because I had an exam today and that's how I study.  The test was shorter than the professor typically gives, but I was fairly confident with most of my answers, gave a very thorough essay answer for the last question and finished within half-an-hour.  I'll find out next Tuesday how I did.

Tomorrow will be a rather big day as well.  I'm having lunch with two friends, one of whom is visiting from graduate school.  Then I'll be volunteering at an animal shelter, because I need my kitty fix (no, really, you have no idea -- I am desperate to pet a cat).  Tomorrow the hire letters for Housing and Residence Life positions are going out, too.  I applied for the same position I'm currently holding but there's no guarantee that I'll get it.  Here's to the best possible outcome, whether it means me in the position or not!

After tomorrow, Saturday is the official date of my relationship's anniversary, so that's exciting.  I don't think we're doing anything specific, except maybe going to one of our favorite restaurants (which is one of the first we went to together).  Other than that, I know we have some gym time planned, but that's it.

I'm sure I have plenty of homework to keep me busy this weekend, but I'm going to take the time to get organized, make a list of major due dates, and figure out what needs to happen next.  The time just before spring break almost feels like finals time sometimes, so it's best just to step back and analyze what you have to do before jumping in.

Today I also managed to submit two applications to present at the Student Conference.  One of these submissions is a paper I wrote last semester about the similarities between Hamlet and Frankenstein and the other is a nonfiction essay about my understanding of my aunt prior to and after her death.

The book I'm currently reading, Betwixt
by Tara Bray Smith

This evening I'm hoping to spend some me time before my boyfriend arrives, just doing something fun, like reading more of Betwixt.  It's been a while now since I could just sit and relax for a bit.  I know I'll be spending some of that time panicking about how I should be productive, but I can't be effectively productive if I don't take a coupe hours for myself, either, so I might as well just relax for a bit.

I'm hoping dinner is quick and good tonight.  There have been a disconcerting amount of chicken patties for meals lately, so I'm ready for something new and healthier.  All of the winter seems to be all about fried food.  It's hard because I want to eat better than that, but I can't eat a salad every day during the winter -- first of all, it's too cold to not be eating hot food, second, it's not filling enough most times, and third, you get sick of the taste relatively quickly.

But there hasn't been much going on that's been very exciting the last couple days despite my absence.  It's mostly just that I've been too busy to sleep, let alone write a substantial and coherent blog post.  But that's life, I guess.

I apparently scratched my hand earlier, though I don't remember doing it.  It's just a small one, but it's always odd when you don't notice being scratched.  I vaguely remember scratching it, I guess, but I don't remember seeing any results until I noticed it a little while ago.

Maybe I'll get to take a nap during that me time I was talking about earlier.  That would be nice.  That would be really nice.

For now, I'm just waiting til 4:30 when my office hours are up and I'll go to dinner and then back to my room to get into comfy clothes and a nice thick book.

Absence

Hey everyone.

Sorry I wasn't able to post last night.  I was up until 4:30 trying to get some reading done for class today.  Unfortunately I'm in a similar situation tonight so I won't be able to post anything other than this.  I have an Evolutionary Psychology test and around 150 pages of reading due tomorrow, so keep me in your thoughts! I'll do my best to actually post tomorrow, but no promises -- the two weeks before spring break are always a little crazy and this weekend my boyfriend and I are celebrating our one year anniversary!

See you on the flip side!

"I'm Not a Feminist But..."

You guys seem to like the feminism stuff, so here's some more.

I came across an article on Marissa Mayer today on Google Currents from Feministing.com.  Marissa Mayer, after working as an executive for Google was hired as CEO of Yahoo!.  Shortly after, Mayer announced that she was (still is, sorry for the confusing grammatical structure there) pregnant.  This was a cause for celebration in the feminist community: there's no reason a woman can't be a mother and a CEO (or a mother or a CEO -- that's the beauty of feminism), despite all who say it isn't possible or it's too hard.

Marissa Mayer, CEO of Yahoo!

Without years of feminism paving the path for Mayer, she would not be able to do what she is doing now, as sad as that may seem.  Despite this, Mayer asserted that she is not a feminist.  "I don’t think that I would consider myself a feminist. I think that I certainly believe in equal rights, I believe that women are just as capable, if not more so in a lot of different dimensions, but I don’t, I think have, sort of, the militant drive and the sort of, the chip on the shoulder that sometimes comes with that."

I'm sorry, what?  Mayer goes on to describe the negative connotation feminism now carries as if that is what is holding her back from "being a feminist."  But there are a few issues I want to address before I get to that bit.

First, Mayer is clearly mistaken when it comes to the definition of feminism that is now widely accepted and encouraged today.  For most people, feminism is not just about women.  Feminism is about all kinds of people, as I've mentioned in previous blogs.  Not only women benefit from feminism.  In fact, the first definition which Merriam-Webster lists in their online dictionary for "feminism" is, "the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes."

What's interesting about this definition is that it is not "the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of women" or even, "the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of women and men."  It specifically lists "the sexes," which can include women, men, trans* individuals, intersex individuals, asex individuals, and anyone else who might (or might not) fall on the sexual identity spectrum.

The second part of the definition is as follows: "organized activity on behalf of women's rights and interests."  I'm still failing to see anything about being angry or hating anyone.  The stigma that feminists inherently hate men is simply false.  Although there may be women who misunderstand feminism or are extremists who do hate men, this is certainly not the majority.  Like any other group, "outsiders" misunderstand feminists because of the extremists.

Those who practice Islam are an excellent example of this phenomenon, unfortunately.  Because of a few extremist Muslims, the rest of them get a bad name.  This is not only not fair but wrong and unhelpful for all parties involved.  It's impossible to see progress if we can't even understand each other.  The "activity on behalf of women's rights and interests" serves simply because women are still not treated equally, which Mayer admits to in her disclaimer.

So how is it that Mayer can be all for the equality and advancement of women (and therefore humankind, because let's face it -- if we raise up one group, we raise up everybody) yet still cry, "I'm not a feminist!"?  Why are women at my university saying the same?

My answer is this: a lack of education.  This is not necessarily anyone's "fault."  It could be an issue of those who misunderstand failing to educate themselves properly before forming opinions, thus casting out uninformed opinions.  It could be an issue of the feminist community not working hard enough to establish their intent and make a point of "disassociating" (for lack of a better term) from the extremists or at least pointing out that the stereotypical feminist is not the truth.  I'm inclined to believe it's a mix of these two things, with the addition of those who are doing the oppressing vilifying feminists in order to gain support and constituency.

Whatever may be the case, in bringing Who Needs Feminism to my university recently, one of my main motivators was to actively show that most of the women and men and others who identify as feminists are not what much of the population might expect or understand to be a feminist.  And note that I said not "most" of the population, but "much."  I think, too, this was one of the goals of the students at Duke University who started the movement.

Embarrassment: What happens when you voice
uninformed opinions.

I won't pretend that I am not guilty of forming opinions of things before actually looking into them or understanding them (see: High School Musical).  But that does not mean I can't contribute to the conversation regarding the misunderstanding of the feminist movement.  In fact, it may mean that I have all the more reason to do so because I've been there.

Before you start complaining that feminists are a bunch of male-hating, hairy-legged, bra-burning bitches, maybe you should do your research.

For the full article on Marissa Mayer, please consult this link: Feministing

I encourage you to continue this discussion in the comments.  Please remember to keep the conversation respectful.