Keep Yo' Head Up Giiiiirl

Book List

Here is a list of books I hope to acquire and finish in the next coming months....

Bossypants by Tina Fey

Yes means Yes!: Visions of Female Sexual Power & a World Without Rape by Jaclyn Friedman & Jessica Valenti

Reality Bites Back: The Troubling Truth About Guilty Pleasure TV by Jennifer L. Pozner

The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

Is Everyone Hanging Out With Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling

Happy reading!

It's that time of year again!

2012 is fast approaching. So methinks it is time for some *new* New Year's resolutions!

But first: let me reflect on my 2011 resolutions.

They were....somewhat....successful.

I'm not sure as to how I can really tell if I've become more self aware. I've been more reflective - that's for sure. 

I definitely took a few risks this year. I learned how to be a better snowboarder, I joined a baseball league in the summer, I let my vulnerable side show - something which  I hardly ever do - in order to make a relationship work, I quit my full-time job because I was unhappy, etc. These may not sound like major risks (especially the sports-related activities - I had let my athletic side diminish for some time) but they were to me and that's all that matters.

I'm still working on standing up for myself. I've been told that I'm too nice to the people who least deserve it and show my *ugly* side to those who don't. I don't know why I'm like that. But I am definitely aware that this is something that needs to change.

And worrying about the future? Frig. That's a tough one. I don't think that will ever go away. Not anytime soon atleast. Everything is up in the air right now since I left the full-time gig. Do I regret it? Hell no. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and that I'm getting back to being myself. That place changed me and not in a good way. One on hand, it's nice to have this freedom to do the things I really want to do. But on the other hand, finances as well as not knowing what's to come can be stressful. Hellooo anxiety!

So. What do I want for 2012? Let's see....

Stop avoiding confrontation (we'll keep that one around....).

Learn to cook.

Create more (writing, theatre, etc.)

Be more flexible (and not in that sense! I need to be less anal (ha) about time and plans, etc.). 

Stop being Blackberry-dependent (such a bad habit). 

Be more direct about my wants/needs. 

.....bring it 2012.

Recognize Your Own Priviledge

The Occupy movement has been occupying the news as of late. People have also taken to their Facebook walls and Twitter feeds about the movement as well.
I had been reading up on Occupy Toronto and spoken to some people about it. Some people supported it while others did not. But I found that those who did not support the protests did not just state their opinions or throw out statistics and other facts to back up their views; oftentimes they came across as ignorant judgemental priveledged fucks (for the most part).

Now, let it be said that at this point I was only relying on media outlets (as majority of people do) to get my information about the protests taking place in St. James park. However, being me, I am fully aware that the media project their own biases into this information (sometimes falsifying facts, editing out critical information, or simply only showing certain aspects).

So, what did I do? I went down to St. James park to see for myself (well...I had a buddy). I wanted to see if the park was, in fact, filled with homeless/jobless/uninformed/hippies (as all those opposed had been telling me).

We entered the park and the first thing I came across was a large tent that had boxes and make-shift shelves full of books. Each bin was labelled with a genre. There were some people sitting and reading, others going through the books, and two other individuals at a table that had a bunch of reading material pertaining to the causes of the Occupy protest. There was also a whiteboard set up that had a "discussion" schedule scribbled on it - various discussions on important topics and at what time they would be taking place.

We continued walking down the path that was lined with tents and porta-potties. Yes, it did smell like urine in a few spots but usually porta-potties do give off that smell. If you haven't experienced this then you've probably never been camping, or to a large outdoor concert or to any other environment where outdoor toilets are needed. To you I say: it's time to crawl out from under your rock.

We came upon the gazebo in the middle of the park. A group of about 10-12 people were seated there and a discussion was already underway when we approached. A younger man saw us, motioned for us to come up and join, and handed us small pamphlets. "Who is the 99%: An Occupy Toronto Workshop Series", it said on the front. It contained the dates and times of other discussions they would be having and short blurbs about the various topics (for example: "Why the 1% Likes Austerity", "Sexism in the 99%", "Labour Unionism in Canada: Legacies and Limits", etc.). On the back, there was this:

"As the Occupy Toronto movement gains momentum in Toronto, participants are eager to think through what we're doing. We know there are differences within the 99% and that one of our greatest challenges will be to strengthen our ability to communicate with each other. This workshop series is intended to be a forum within which assembly members can talk through urgent  organizational and political questions, develop careful analysis of the systems we aim to change, and strategize on the basis of shared common ground."

And who said they movement wasn't somewhat organized?

The gentleman that was mid-speech when we arrived was discussing police brutality and those who are victims of it (usually people of colour who live in low-income neighbourhoods). He cited many case studies (one of which included a pregnant woman who was tazered when she failed to tell the police the whereabouts of her thirteen year old son).

He then threw out a question in which anyone could speak up and share their opinions: "Are police officers a part of the 99%?"

This led to an open discussion about police officers and their moral responsibilities to protect and serve the people. The group noted that obviously not every police officer is immoral, but at the same time, what happens when they see their fellow officers behaving negatively? Do they speak up?

The one thing that really stood out to me was when a younger guy raised his hand. He told the group that he is a full-time teacher. He said that if he, as a teacher, ever witnessed one of his co-workers, a fellow teacher, doing something to a student, a child, then he would be morally obligated to speak up so as to ensure the safety and well-being of students and others at the school. It is a part of his job to do so.

I agree with him. Others would argue that police officers could lose their jobs if they were to speak up and that there is some type of "brotherhood code" they follow once they join the police force, yadda  yadda yadda. I can understand that - no one wants to lose their job, especially at a time like this. But at the same time - I say bull.shit. If this is true, then we cannot put our trust in the police to keep us safe. No fucking wonder majority of sexual assault or rapes are never reported! But nevermind, you can go back and read my thoughts on SlutWalk in regards to that.

Anyways, back to the main topic of this post!

My buddy and I stood and listened for about 45 minutes and then decided to leave. BUT. I want to make the point of saying that the people in that group HAD  jobs. That guy I mentioned above is a teacher, two women were lawyers, some individuals worked for non-profit organizations, some were University or College students. It was not just a bunch of homeless, jobless hippies sitting around in a circle banging on a drum. And even if there were some homeless individuals there, that does in no way mean that they don't have valid arguments to make or that their employment status can render their opinions invalid.

Did I see homeless "crazy" people in the park? Sure. Most of the ones I saw were just walking around or hanging out conversing with others. If an environment like that is available to them - of course they are going to congregate there. Because they have no where else to go.

So what did I learn from going down there myself? Well, I learned that you cannot generalize about a group of people. Not only is that incorrect but it's also extremely ignorant. You also can't rely on the media to  give you all of your (mis)information. If you don't give two shits about the cause because you think it doesn't affect you or you don't agree with it, that is fine. But don't be ignorant and try to lump everyone together in order to nullify the protest/cause and silence them.

It really irks me when I hear people say that they are pissed off or annoyed because the protest disrupted their daily commute to work or school or interrupted their nice evening stroll. Stand back and acknowledge your own fucking priveledge. Atleast you have a job to go to. You're lucky to be able to afford to go to school. Oh, I'm so sorry that a group of people - protesting for basic rights, protesting to make things better for not only themselves but for YOU as well, protesting for things that they believe in - are getting in the way of you enjoying your daily walk through the park to go to Starbucks and get your venti low-fat vanilla machiatto.

You think they should find a different outlet for their protest? Okay. That's fair. What would you suggest?

I know the feeling...

I read a post today about a young girl's experience in a classroom, discussing how to prevent rape (as if there is any answer other than "don't rape"), where she felt overwhelmed by the reactions of her peers to such a sensitive topic.

It reminded me of my own experience of leaving the classroom to cry.

I was in an acting class, Actually, it was the last class of the course and we were performing our final scenes.

My scene was from the play - later made into a movie - Closer. I was the female lead and my scene partner was the male lead. If you haven't read the play or seen the movie, it contains very sexually explicit material and language. The scene we would be performing was one that contained very graphic language.

I'm not gonna lie, it was a challenge. My scene partner and I had discussed the scene to a great extent - how we viewed the characters/broke them down, their history, why they were saying these things, etc. etc. etc. We noted how we thought normal people would not talk to each other like this and, if in real life, someone spoke to us in that manner we would simply walk out.

The way the class worked was you performed the scene, the teacher would critique and give notes to assist, and you would perform it again.

We performed the scene how we would have rehearsed it. It was a very intense scene and I thought we did a great job with our interpretation.

Our instructor told us that we needed even more intensity. She wanted the argument to go beyond simple communication and she would like us to take it to the next level. She told my scene partner that, if he felt the urge to grab me, then that's what he should do.

I said "okay" wearily, even though I wasn't exactly comfortable. "That isn't what we rehearsed," I thought. But decided to go with it anyways.

We started the scene again and the intensity level grew. The instructor kept shouting things out at us while we were performing - to go to the next level, more intensity, more more more.

I began to get frustrated. And not the angry kind of frustrated. The uncomfortable, "shut the hell up while we are trying to do this" kind of frustration.

She stopped us as we were approaching the end of the scene. She jumped up and said that it still wasn't enough.

"She is pissing you off. You are getting so angry that you just want to throw her on that bed and rape her," she said to my partner.

Everyone in the class started laughing and I think someone even said "Ooooh ya!". I, however, was not laughing. Nor my scene partner. My breathing starting getting heavy - the kind of breathing where your chin starts to quiver and you know you are about to cry. But I held it in.

"Let's do it one more time." she said.

We did. We had intensity. The "throw her on the bed and rape her" kind of intensity that she was looking for.

When we finished, I stood there with a cold look on my face and my arms crossed. She could tell something was up so she asked me if there was a problem.

"Yes I have a problem," I said. "I'm uncomfortable. That was not how we imagined the scene and we did not rehearse any of the physicality that you sprung on us. Also, everyone was laughing when you mentioned the idea of rape."

At that point my chin started to quiver and my voice got shakey. "Everyone was laughing and I don't find it funny. I don't find rape funny."

At that point I could feel the tears start and I turned and walked out of the room. I left and went and cried in the bathroom.

The teacher came and found me to apologize. She said she didn't realize how that might make someone feel like that and if I was uncomfortable with the material, I should have spoken to her about it. I told her it wasn't the original material, it was how she forced her "rapey" version of the scene on us like that. Other students in the class also apologized for laughing and told me that they don't really truly think rape is something to laugh about.

That was one of the worst feelings ever. Mind you, now that I look back on the incident I think it is fair to say that some people simply laughed because they were uncomfortable - a common reaction. I know I have laughed at inappropriate things because I was uncomfortable and didn't know what else to do at the time. I don't hold it against anybody. But, like I said, I still felt shitty about it.

I was also pretty ticked that the instructor had thrown that at us. I still to this day don't see how our interpretation of the scene could be wrong. It was just different than hers. I also don't think that any sort of physicality (especially one of a violent nature) should be improvised on the spot. That shit needs to be rehearsed so that everyone involved feels safe and comfortable.

Sadly, this isn't the only experience I have like this - where people laugh about rape or how women are raped because they dress like "sluts". I have cried on multiple occasions following discussions about rape and victim-blaming. I share the same frustrations as Jamie - why don't people "get it". It's a simple concept: women are in no way responsible for their own rapes. They are raped because someone chose to rape them.

Girls Inc. of Durham is screening Miss Representation next Friday November 4th at The Regent Theatre in Oshawa!

Eeeeee! I reeeeeeeallly hope I can make it out. I am dying to see this documentary. 

Well Said!

So I came across this woman named Jaclyn Friedman quite a while ago and I love her writing.

A little bit about this woman (according to www.amplifyyourvoice.org):

"Jaclyn Friedman is a pop culture junkie and the editor of the hit book Yes Means Yes: Visions of Female Sexual Power and a World Without Rape.She is a survivor of sexual assault who has been a pro-sex, anti-rape activist for over 15 years, and she's become a popular speaker about sexuality and safety issues on campuses across the country. Friedman is also an award-winning writer and performer whose work has been published in outlets including The Huffington Post, The American Prospect, Bitch, AlterNet, and DoubleX. She spends her days working as the Program Director of the Center for New Words, and is co-founder of WAM!, CNW's conference on Women, Action, & the Media. Friedman is a charter member of CounterQuo, a national leadership coalition challenging the way we respond to sexual violence. You can follow her on Twitter at @jaclynf."

I have been reading her blog "Yes Means Yes". Not only is she hilarious and well-spoken, but she hits the nail on the head on many of the issues that I am interested in/care about/struggle with, etc.

So, go and read. No doubt you will enjoy.

Here is a quote from her blog entitled "Why It Matters" that I think is very insightful and just...so fucking spot on!

"Those of us who write about pop culture get accused, on occasion, of being frivolous. After all, there are more serious problems in the world than the lyrics of Lady Gaga, or the meaning of Eryka Badu's new video. But the truth is, art is one of the main ways we understand our own emotions, and connect with each other across whatever differences we think we have. And so, I for one think it matters what kind of art we have access to. Does it affirm our lives, or erase them? Does it celebrate our bodies, or judge them? Does it increase pleasure and safety, or pain and fear? If art matters, then these questions do, too."

Although I am no Jacyln Friedman, or any other pop culture analyst, I still firmly believe that the media plays a giant monstrous role in how we view ourselves and others.

A lot of the reading I do discusses media literacy. I recently read an article about actress Geena Davis and how she is trying to get the Healthy Media for Youth act passed. Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs talks a lot about the portrayal of women in the media. And I cannot wait to see the documentary Miss Representation.

 

"In one week American teenagers spend 31 hours watching TV, 17 hours listening to music, 3 hours watching movies, 4 hours reading magazines, 10 hours online. That’s 10 hours and 45 minutes of media consumption a day."

I strongly feel as though media literacy is something that should be taught from a young age. People need to learn to question the images they are bombarded with everyday. By teaching youth to analyze and critique the negative myths that the media feeds us, they will be more aware of the effects these images have on themselves, others, their relationships, and their futures.

Imagine a world where a woman can hold a powerful position without someone mentioning the possibility of plastic surgery or the potential for PMS to get in the way of her doing her job?! In my ideal world, it would be blasphemous and unheard of to even make such commentary. If little girls start questioning the hypersexualized and unrealistic images they see at a young age, perhaps they will grow up firmly believing that they don't have to take off their clothes to be considered sexy, that they don't need to be a size 0 to be considered beautiful, or that they don't need male attention/acceptance to feel any self worth.

Maybe then we will be able to make the distinction between what we are doing for ourselves versus what we are doing for the attention or entertainment of others.

All in all, I definitely think media literacy is something that should be a part of every school's curriculum. Media affects everyone in the long run.

....could be an interesting project to delve into....

"Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. . . ."

Last week I finished reading Ariel Levy's Female Chauvinist Pigs. Legit read this book in 2 days. 

AMAZING READ. 

Loved it. It perfectly depicted the internal struggle that I feel personally as a female. 

Is this sexual liberation that I feel truly of my own accord? Or have I been fooled into believing it is for myself when really I am just a product of this media-driven misogynist culture? Is this empowerment I am feeling or do I merely feel good getting some sort of male attention?

......how would I even be able to tell? 

It's hard. I think it's very human to have a need to feel desired and receive attention. It's also very hard these days to distinguish negative attention from positive especially when we are bombarded with the message that attention to our appearance is of the utmost importance. 

If hypersexuality is seen as "anti-feminist" and hiding our sexual desires and limiting our sexuality for fear of slut-shaming is also not a good thing, then....fuck...what is there?  What is the solution? 

How do we ever know if we are doing things truly for ourselves? It's not like we stop and reflect before every action we choose or every decision we make.

Sigh. 

Anywho...read this Great Review in the NY Times.

Advice from a Fish...?

Blarghhhh.

Moving in a week and a half. Not too thrilled about it. Packing? Sucks.

The next couple of months are kind of up in the air pour moi.

Job? Do I stay or go?

Waiting on some big(ish) news for the new year *crossing my fingers*

If all goes to shit then I definitely need to sit down and fo serious re-evaluate what I am doing with myself. 

....I hate not knowing. Really grinds away at ya.

So much for that degree I spent 4 years on. Seems to me it doesn't hold much worth as it once did.

Experience? Oh, right. Experience. Hmm...Well....riddle me this...how is one supposed to gain  experience without opportunities to gain experience?

.....Just keep swimming, swimming swimming....

Bliss

"Intuition is our most basic and reliable survival skill"

I've experienced a lot of what you would call street harassment in my short life. What girl hasn't? You know - guys in cars honking at you as they drive by, whistling as you walk past, gawking and ogling you on your way to school, work, the store, FUCK just about anywhere. But on Saturday night I experienced something quite a bit different...

I was heading from my apartment uptown to downtown to meet a friend for dinner and a movie. I was somewhat dressed up (not like it matters what the hell I was wearing anyways), was feeling good, and headed into the Davisville subway station.


I walked down the steps to the Southbound platform. The platform was pretty empty. The only people I saw were at the most Northern end of the track. I had my phone in my hand and I was texting my friend to let him know I was on my way. I saw in my peripherals that a person had joined me a few feet down on the platform but I didn't look up from my phone.

Texting away, I could sense that the individual had gotten closer to me. I looked up and saw a guy standing there starring at me. He was in his mid to late twenties. It made me a bit uncomfortable but, not wanting to make him aware of this, I shrugged it off and kept looking down at my phone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the guy was doing something but still starring in my direction. Out of habit, I looked up and saw that he was still starring at me. But he had his hands down his pants.

I quickly looked away. I was in a  bit of shock and my first instinct was to walk away. So I quickly turned the corner to where the stairs are. I stood there for a moment processing what I had just seen. Maybe I was mistaken and he didn't have his hands down his pants. "Who does that out in the open?!" I thought.

I took a few steps back towards the platform and the individual turned the corner almost right into me. And guess what? He STILL had his hands down his pants. I kept my eyes on my phone in my hands, trying to make it seem like I hadn't noticed, and walked abruptly down the platform towards two men standing waiting for the train. My hands were shaking.

I stood and waited for the train but I could still feel his eyes on me. As the train approached and sped by, I could see him slowly making his way down the platform towards me. All I could think was "Holy shit please don't get on the same car as me."

The train came to a stop and I hopped on. I looked down the platform and the guy didn't even get on the train. As it sped away, I tried not to make eye contact with him as it went by.

I felt so....dirty and scared. But I was also grateful that the situation had not escalated.

And as much as I feel justified in my feelings, I can't help thinking that maybe I should have taken a different approach. After relaying this story to another person, I was told I should have shouted and called him out on it, made other people aware of what was going on, called for help. You know, kinda like that lady on the subway in NYC when that guy whipped his dick out. But...I didn't. I was frozen. I was in shock. I didn't think to do those things at the time. It's easier said than done. I always thought I would be the type to do that but when it actually happens to you, who knows how you will react. Telling some guy to fuck off as he drives past you and shouts "NICE TITS!" on the street is way easier than saying that to some masturbating pervert on an almost empty subway platform at night.
You never know what could happen.

What gets me the most about this is that I got a bad uncomfortable feeling about this asshole the minute I caught him starring at me. But I didn't want to seem rude. I didn't want to seem rude. That's fucked.

We are constantly finding reasons to excuse our instincts. "Oh I'm just being silly", we think. We put other people's feelings before our own in potentially dangerous situations. Why?! It makes no sense. Why would I care if this weirdo stranger who is giving me bad vibes thinks that I am rude? He is the one being rude by invading my personal space.


Gavin de Becker writes about this in his book The Gift of Fear. A little synopsis:


"Author Gavin de Becker says victims of violent behavior usually feel a sense of fear before any threat or violence takes place. They may distrust the fear, or it may impel them to some action that saves their lives. A leading expert on predicting violent behavior, de Becker believes we can all learn to recognize these signals of the "universal code of violence," and use them as tools to help us survive. The book teaches how to identify the warning signals of a potential attacker and recommends strategies for dealing with the problem before it becomes life threatening."

He writes that we need to trust our instincts because it never fails us. The case studies in this book are horrifying and when he talks to victims of violence, they never fail to mention that they felt  in their gut that something wasn't quite right but hushed that voice inside their heads and told themselves they were being ridiculous.


We gotta learn to trust ourselves instead of trusting complete strangers. You're feelings are justified because you are feeling them. No question about it.

Bon Iver @ Sound Academy

 

And I said I know it well

That secret that you knew
But don't know how to tell
It fucks with your honor
And it teases your head
But you know that its good girl
Cos its running you with red

Oh Ani...

Manhole - Ani Difranco

I'm holding here a book
Notable, but not the greatest
Stolen for me by the latest
In a long line of thieves
And I'm just about to drop it
Down that manhole of memories
When I realize it doesn't bother me
Like love's mementos usually do
And I look up to see who's different here
The latest me or the latest you

Course, you're the kind of guy who doesn't lie
He just doctors everything
Chooses some unassuming finger
And quietly moves his wedding ring
Who rewrites his autobiography
For any pretty girl who'll sing
But you can't fool the queen, baby
Cuz I married the king

And maybe it was I who betrayed his majesty
With no opposite reality
Like a puddle with no reflection
Of the sky or the trees
But after my dreaded beheading
I tied that sucker back on with a string
And I guess I'm pretty different now
Considering

I kissed you on the street that night
On the far side of four
But I didn't like the taste
In my mouth or yours
And ignoring the persona you wore for my benefit
For once I had the balls to call it
Just call it
But a lesson must be lived
In order to be learned
And the clarity to see and stop this now
That is what I've earned

And maybe it was I who betrayed his majesty
With no opposite reality
Like a puddle with no reflection
Of the sky or the trees
But after my dreaded beheading
I tied that sucker back on with a string
And I guess I'm pretty different now
Considering

I'm holding here a book
Notable, but not the greatest
Stolen for me by the latest
In a long line of thieves
And I'm just about to drop it
Down that manhole of memories
When I realize it doesn't bother me
And heartache not so dire
Cuz I looked up to see integrity
Finally won over desire

"I can feel his breath on my neck"

The Stupid Jerk I'm Obsessed With

Maggie Estep

The stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

stands so close to me

I can feel his breath

on my neck

and smell

the way he would smell

if we slept together

because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

and this is his primary function in life

to be a stupid jerk I can obsess over

and talk to that dingy bimbette blonde

as if he really wanted to hear about her

manicures and

pedicures and

New Age ritualistic enema cures and

truth be known, he probably does wanna hear about it

because he is the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with

and he's obsessed with doing anything he can

to lend fuel to my fire

he makes a point of standing
looking over my shoulder
when I'm talking to the guy who adores me
and would bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
if I asked him to bark like a dog
and wave to strangers
but I can't ask him to bark like a dog
or impersonate any kind of animal at all
cause I'm too busy
looking at the way the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
has pants on that perfectly define his well-shaped ass
to the point where I'm thoroughly frantic
I'm just gonna go home
and stick my head in the oven
overdose on nutmeg and aspirin
and sit in the bathtub reading The Executioner's Song
and being completely confounded by the fact
that I can see
the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with's face
defining itself in the peeling plaster of the wall
grinning and winking
and I start to yell,
Get the hell out of there
You're just a figment of my imagination
Just get a life and get out of my plaster
and pass me the next painful situation please
but he just keeps on
grinning and winking
he's the stupid jerk I'm obsessed with
and he's mine
in my plaster
And frankly, I couldn't be happier.

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!!!!!!!