My Future Child

Eliza Sayers is my new hero. And she is only 10 years old.

Her editorial addressed to Boys from around the World is...just...fabulous.

I can only hope that my future children will be as cool and kick-ass as she is.

Women in the Arts VS. Women in Mass Media

Elena Rossini 's short experimental film Ideal Women.

Check it out. Pretty fuckin' sweet. 

Hmmm....

The other week I was having a low point. You know those kind of days - you are in a sad, foul, depressing mood and you sit there rethinking everything about your life, everything you've done and everything that has happened to you up until this point. You listen to sad music even though you know it's only going to make you feel worse and you cry so hard you sound like a wounded animal but you can get away with it because no one is home and only the neighbours can hear you but you don't care because they are strangers and what the hell do they know about your life? You need someone to talk to so, out of desperation, you call your Mum who can't make out what you're saying through your sobs and the sounds of sniffing the snot back into your nose. She thinks something really awful has happened or that you are physically hurt but calms down - a little - once she realizes it's just your heart that's hurting.

Yeah, one of those moments....

So, there I was. Questioning myself as a person, my relationships with others, the whole lot. 

I sat there wondering if my feminist views were actually hindering my relationships with people - friends, acquaintances and, more importantly, lovers or boyfriends.  I have been struggling with the mentality that I need to change people's opinions on certain issues and that if they could just see things in a different light then all would be well with the world. "Isn't that what activism is all about?" I thought. If people didn't listen to me or tried to make the issue into a joke I would get overwhelmed and upset. I took it personally. How could I not? These were things I so strongly believe in. To have someone laugh in your face when you discuss issues so personal to you is like a slap in the face. It felt like someone was laughing at my own pain. I would walk away feeling frustrated and angry at the world. And this feeling would linger for days.

As I sat there questioning all of this, I happened to open a newspaper and flip to the horoscope section. And, in all honesty, here is what it said:

"Is it possible that your compulsive discontent for certain political issues is inhibiting your capacity for personal happiness?"

Ho.Ly. Shit.

Um. Yeah. I think it is definitely possible!

While I am not one who normally buys into all the horoscope-y schtuff, I truly believe that this is a sign.

I talked to Kels about it the other night and she gave me some advice that I really took to heart. It's impossible to keep everyone in check about sensitive subjects ALL the time. And, obviously, not everyone is going to 100% agree with you. I need to start thinking about Feminism in relation to ME and how it pertains to my own life - not necessarily the lives of others. Perhaps I have been too serious as of late, finding the offense in every little thing that anyone says. Geeze, it's like I've been acting like the Feminism Police! Hardcore. I need to relax. For my own sanity, I need to relax. If I don't like something someone says or if a remark or comment offends me...a discussion is a possibility but not a necessity. There doesn't need to be a lecture or a "shame on you". Sometimes, it's just not worth getting upset or worked up over.

While it will be tough, I think having this sort of mentality about Feminism will free my mind of these constant "Is this really the world I live in?" thoughts. Hells yes there are a shitload of depressing things happening every day around me. And yes, sometimes anger and outrage can be a  motivating factor in fighting for a better world. But I'd like to think staying hopeful and keeping a positive outlook will spark more change than anger will.

And this is why I use the Diva

About 2 years ago (I think...roughly...) I was introduced to the Diva Cup.

I had been using tampons and pads for years and the thought of using some silicone cup that stays inside you by suctioning to your insides seemed pretty...freaky.And painful.

But I read about the benefits of the Diva (better for your lady bits, better for the environment, etc) and decided, in spite of fear for my vagina, to give it a try.

Best. Decision. Ever.

Now I try to encourage others to use the Diva Cup by explaining the the negative effects tampons (and other feminine hygiene products) have on your body (the chemicals they contain, toxic-shock syndrome, etc.) and also by telling them how much money they will save! Think of how much money you spend on tampons and pads every month and every year. It definitely adds up. While the Diva is an investment, I don't necessarily think it is a huge investment compared to how much one would spend on feminine products monthly/annually. And just  think about all of the great things you are doing for the environment.

So, as Lu Bailey says: "Cleaning our vaginas is a multi-billion dollar industry. And thanks to pop culture's insistence that a clean, sanitized vagina leads to great sex and a happy marriage, the clean vagina business show no signs of slowing down."

Another benefit of the All Mighty Diva: stickin' it to the man by not buying into the ridiculousness of this billion dollar industry that is constantly perpetuating the myth of the "dirty vagina".

24 more SlutWalks? Hells Yea!

So.

For all of those asshats who said things like "Yeah, nobody cared about that SlutWalk thing" or "It only got 2 minutes of coverage on the news - people will forget about it by tomorrow" ...

Suck on this!

Atleast 24 more Slut Walks are in the works!

Check out this interview on Feministing with Sonya Barnett and Heather Jarvis (co-founders of SlutWalk).

This just made my day :)

yes Yes YES!!!!!!!

I'm not Crazy - I'm just an Emotional Idiot

Emotional Idiot
by Maggie Estep

I'm an Emotional Idiot
so get away from me.
I mean,
COME HERE.

Wait, no,
that's too close,
give me some space
it's a big country,
there's plenty of room,
don't sit so close to me.

Hey, where are you?
I haven't seen you in days.
Whadya, having an affair?
Who is she?
Come on,
aren't I enough for you?

God,
You're so cold.
I never know what you're thinking.
You're not very affectionate.

I mean,
you're clinging to me,
DON'T TOUCH ME,
what am I, your fucking cat?
Don't rub me like that.

Don't you have anything better to do
than sit there fawning over me?

Don't you have any interests?
Hobbies?
Sailing Fly fishing
Archeology?

There's an archeology expedition leaving tomorrow
why don't you go?
I'll loan you the money,
my money is your money.
my life is your life
my soul is yours
without you I'm nothing.

Move in with me
we'll get a studio apartment together, save on rent,
well, wait, I mean, a one bedroom,
so we don't get in each other's hair or anything
or, well,
maybe a two bedroom
I'll have my own bedroom,
it's nothing personal
I just need to be alone sometimes,
you do understand,
don't you?

Hey, why are you acting distant?

Where you goin',
was it something I said?
What
What did I do?

I'm an emotional idiot
so get away from me
I mean,
MARRY ME.


....Yeah, I can be like that sometimes...

"I don't know what to say" isn't necessarily a bad thing....

"I don’t always know what I’m thinking. I don’t believe that anyone always knows what they’re thinking. It’s important to acknowledge this, because when people don’t acknowledge it, they often simply decide to be something that doesn’t quite match up with what they want. Sometimes this works fine — if the pattern a person chooses to impose on her self can function, then who cares if it’s a perfect match? (I mean, arguably, people are always imposing unmatched patterns on our thoughts and selves.) But although this sometimes works fine, there are plenty of times when it doesn’t work fine. Or really at all."

Via.

I never know what I am thinking. I have a million thoughts going through my head at any one time, especially in a high tension situation or moment of conflict, and people have noted I often get this...pondering...sort of look on my face as I stare off into the distance, seeming absent from the here and now.

No, this is not the case. I am not avoiding the conversation or not paying attention. I am merely thinking. I am searching for something to say, sorting through the millions of thoughts in my head or feelings in my heart and gut. People push for me to say something, anything, and I just....can't. "I don't know what to say."

I've been told this is problematic, that I don't talk about my feelings and I should, that I am being closed off. And for a long ass fucking time I believed it. But then I actually thought about it: I AM a chatty, talkative person. I like having discussions and debating with people. I think the problem lies in the fact that, because I always seem to have a million thoughts at once, I'm not so great at putting my thoughts into words (well enough that my point can be understood anyways). And so when I am sitting there staring far off into the distance, I am merely trying to put in order all my unorganized thoughts and feelings on the matter so that when I DO have something to say....it won't come out a jumbled mess and I can be better understood.

To me, taking the time to think and organize my thoughts is an important process. I would like others to understand that it is not in their best interest, or my own, for me to spit something out because they want or need to hear something in that exact moment. If "I don't know what to say", then I don't. It doesn't mean I won't ever. I just need time to properly articulate what I have to say.

So, quit pressuring me. Please refrain from taking it as an indication that I don't care or that I have zero opinion or feeling.

I do. Just takes me longer than some, is all.

Warm and Fuzzy

My Little Sidekick

A new accomplice has moved in with Kels and I. Let's welcome Miss Gretchen Wilde:

 

She's cute, cuddly, and will shower you with puppy kisses and probably try to naw away at the hem of your pants.  She's got awful breathe but...she's workin' on it.

Yeah, so THIS is exactly why we participated in Slut Walk...

Props to Chloe at Feministing for her awesome rebuttal to Chelsea Fagan's essay about Slut Walk.

"Apparently, a police constable made the unfortunate choice of publicly saying, “Women should avoid dressing like sluts in order to not be victimized.”

The problem is not that he said it publicly. The problem is that he said it. Or thought it. At all. Period.

The goal is to start at the root of the problem and change this kind of backwards thinking.

"I want men to look at me and have thoughts other than, “I could have sex with her tonight if I wanted.”"

Uh, yeah Chelsea, we want that too. But, like a sign read at Slut Walk, "Clothes are not rape-proof". A man can have those thoughts of you even if you are wearing a baggy as hell Ghostbuster suit. THAT. IS. THE. WHOLE. POINT. OF. SLUT. WALK.

Perhaps Chelsea needs to do a little more research on a subject before she writes an entire essay on it.

Awesome Advice

Hmm, I wonder who could have possibly written this to Captain Awkward....

Hahaha "Pabst Beer"

 

via 

"I don't want to live in a Rape Culture"

So this past Sunday April 3rd,  Kels and I participated in Slut Walk Toronto.

Slut Walk Toronto was organized partly in response to Toronto police officer Michael Sangunietti's fucked up comment about how if girls don't want to be raped, we should avoid dressing like sluts and partly in protest to victim-blaming and slut-shaming which is so evident in our justice system, the media, HELL...just life in general. This idea that a woman deserved to be raped/sexually assaulted or "was asking for it" is so fucking detrimental for SO many reasons, I don't even know where to begin.

This was my first political protest and I gotta say, it was absolutely awesome. Kels and I were blown away by how many people came out to the walk. I can't really put into words how it felt to see thousands of people walking down College Street towards Toronto Police headquarters - stopping cars, buses, and people in their tracks. I guess I sorta felt this "I am not alone" type of feeling. As a feminist, you go through moments of "Why doesn't anyone understand?!" and this coming together of people of all ages, sizes, races, sexes, etc. made me feel more at home than I sometimes do at places I go to every goddamn day.

I heard a lot of criticism about using the word "Slut" to promote a campaign/protest involving women's rights. However, I think it is a reclamation  of the word that is used to judge a woman regardless of our appearance or behaviour. The point is that we are ALL labeled "sluts" - doesn't matter if we are wearing fishnets or sweatpants, high heels or combat boots, bra or turtleneck sweater.

Upon arriving at police headquarters, speeches were made. While not every single word was heard over the cheering crowd, the message was clear: women are in no way responsible for their own rape or sexual assault. It doesn't matter what they were wearing,  what time it was, the number of sexual partners they've had, how much they've had to drink, where they were at the time - NOTHING. No one is deserving of that shit.  EVER. Period. 

Why is it that we are teaching "how not to be raped" instead of "how not to rape"?? Doesn't make a whole lotta sense.

The issue had with Toronto Police is that: only 6% of sexual assaults are reported. SIX FUCKING PERCENT. With the victim-blaming attitudes and lack of proper training in response to sexual assault victims clearly evident within our justice system, it is no wonder that women don't feel safe reporting assault and rape to the police. The fear of interrogation and of no one believing their story is the reason why this percentage is so low.

This needs to change. Society needs to stop reinforcing and further perpetuating the "slut" myth. This also coincides with the notion of enthusiastic consent: "no" means NO. If an individual is not able to say no - that is still a giant fucking NO. Even if someone has consented to having sex, that person has the right to change their mind. Consent is an ongoing conversation throughout the entire sexual act. If a person says "no" or "stop" or ANYTHING that indicates that they no longer wish to be involved in the act and they are ignored? That is rape.

A few of the chants heard from the crowd on Sunday:

"Whatever we wear, where ever we go - yes means yes, and no means no."

"Hey hey! Ho Ho! Patriarchy has got to go!"

"A dress is NOT a yes".

Also, a woman approached Kels and I after the walk was over and told us that she had been watching us as we walked, holding our signs. She said that our calm yet confident demeanor stood out and that that is the kind of attitude needed for a cause like this. She said we had inspired her and thanked us.

Rock on! It made my day that much better and made me realize that if I can inspire someone simply by believing in something and holding a sign/showing my support - then the possibilities for change are endless.

For Real? Gross.

You know how sometimes you just assume that the people surrounding you on a daily basis (especially in the workplace) are mature, responsible, hygienic people and that rarely do you feel the need to question this?

Well I'd like to introduce you to....The Gum Bandit.

(Back-story: it is part of my job at work to allow elevator access to the offices upstairs. For security reasons, I have buttons that connect to the elevator system that prevent people from gaining access to these offices unless they have an access card or have talked to me and I have deemed them worthy to go upstairs.)

It is just another day at work. Like any other day. Someone approaches my desk informing me that they have an interview upstairs. I call to ensure that this person is indeed expected for an interview and I inform the person to get on the elevator and head upstairs. I then reach to press the button that would allow the elevator to move but, wait, what is that? That doesn't feel like a button. Why is it sticky? WTF?! WHAT IS THAT??

My friends....what I was pressing my fingers into was....chewing gum.

I sat there in disbelief." How did this get there?" I thought. As I sat there in disgust, rubbing the hand sanitizer between my fingers, I realized...this was no accident. Someone put that chewing gum there. On purpose.There is no possible way it could have "accidently" gotten to that spot. There is a garbage can at the desk which, it must be noted, is no where near these buttons. I keep a roll of paper towel at the desk. For reals - someone had actually taken that piece of gum out of their mouth and stuck it to the elevator buttons!

The disgust I was feeling soon turned to frustration. "This needs to be addressed." I said to myself. Since I did not know who it was (as many people in my department use this desk) I had to address the department as a whole.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I give you a narrative piece called "I'm Confused: Is This An Office Or A Daycare?":

To the culprit who decided it was a fantastic idea to stick their gum behind the elevator buttons:

Since when is this ever a good idea? You, whoever you are, are disgusting. What are you - five years old? Obviously only someone with the mentality of a small child would even consider, let alone follow through with, sticking their unwanted piece of chewing gum in any place other than the garbage. You couldn't walk the two steps to the garbage can to throw it out after you were done chewing it? You didn't even have to get out of the chair - you could have rolled over to the garbage can if you were that lazy. But clearly, you ARE that lazy. How about this? How about you grow up. It is evident by your nauseating and careless behaviour that you think a) no one will notice how vile you are or b) that someone else will clean up your mess. I am not your mother and I refuse to clean up after you. Have some respect for your fellow employees and leave your repulsive habits at home.

This was sent as an all staff email. 

I still don't know the identity of the Gum Bandit but I am hoping that my words caused them 

some embarrassment and forced some sort of self reflection on why this is NEVER A GOOD 

IDEA OR GOOD BEHAVIOUR. 

  Gross.