people piss me off
Miss you?
Aug 24th
This is one of those things that’s not going to make me any more popular. But frankly, I’m pretty sure 90% of you are thinking it, you just have the good sense not to say it.
As of two years ago, you could use the following methods of communication to get in touch with me:
- Cell Phone
- Email (I have at least nine email addresses)
- MySpace (I SAID two years ago)
- Google Chat
- Comment on my blog
- Knock on my door
- Send me a letter or card in the mail
- Carrier Pigeon
The list is shorter now, as I’ve deleted my MySpace and Facebook accounts. All the other methods are still completely valid (secretly, I’ve always wanted to get a message via carrier pigeon). If you’re reading this, you have, in your possession, at least TWO ways of contacting me, as you can comment on this blog or you can email me.
Please don’t knock on my door, you creepy freak.
I’m puzzled then, when people choose to leave messages on a Facebook wall or Twitter that say, “I miss you.” or “I miss talking to you.” Because generally speaking, any and all people who do that have some way to get in touch with me that might, you know, SOLVE THE PROBLEM. Like, if I know you in real life, don’t leave me a fucking message on some social media message board, text me. “Dude. I miss you. Wanna get some coffee and catch up?”
If I know you in real life, but you don’t live near me, don’t put some passive aggressive message out there on social media about missing talking to me. TALK to me, if you miss talking to me. Is that so hard? Why sit around and bitch about something you can actually fix? Email me, chat me, text me, whatever. I have faith in you that you will figure this out or shut up.
My personal favorite is the person who says, every time I see him or her, “We never hang out any more. Why don’t you call me?” Well…why don’t YOU call ME, if you’re so upset about it that you feel like you need to say something? Honestly, I don’t really need the guilt.
Now, I realize, most of the time these are just empty statements. Things we say that we don’t really mean. “Call me!” rarely means “No, actually, call me, damn it.” Usually it means, “I don’t want this to be awkward, so I’m going to tell you to call me or that I’ll call you because we both know neither of us is ever going to make that happen, but this way we can save face and pretend to be friends when really…we’re just not.”
I try to avoid that. Actually, I try to avoid saying things I don’t mean, the end. If I say we should hang out, I probably mean it (because I don’t want to be put in the awkward position of having to hang out with you when I don’t really want to hang out with you). But I might forget to make it happen. If I do forget to get in touch with you to make plans, however, I’m not going to try to make YOU feel guilty about it. That’s just ass.
I’m not completely opposed to people saying they miss me, though. Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of people who probably just mean that they miss me. It’s these few scenarios in which people say shit that they can easily fix or change that bug the shit out of me.
Also, I should say, I’m not really one for “missing” people. I’m more of an “out of sight out of mind” kind of girl. Yes, I know, you can just add that to the list of many characteristics that make me impossible.
There’s been a change of plan.
Aug 10th
I was going to write about a ridiculous cooking “class” my mom and I took at Williams-Sonoma (don’t worry, guys, I’ll get back to you in a little while), but I can’t focus.
And this is ALL MARIE’S FAULT.
Just so you know.
Yesterday she sent me this article about a new study that shows that girls are hitting puberty earlier than they were 30 years ago. You’ll probably read that and think, “What problem could anyone have with that?” And also, “OH MY GOD, MY DAUGHTER IS GOING TO START HAVING SEX AT EIGHT YEARS OLD!”
Yeah, no. In my opinion, that whole thing is just a scare tactic. And it’s made even more awesome because it’s aimed at fat kids (oh noes! Being fat means you might also be a slut!), white girls (don’t let them be slutty like those black girls!), AND tells you your kids might get breast cancer if you let any of this happen. I’m going to write more on this later, because I want to make sure I have my research done. But seriously, people, don’t panic. I’m pretty sure this is a giant load of bullshit.
THEN there’s this whole 12th and Delaware documentary. And while I’m super glad someone made it, I’m pretty bummed I can only watch it on HBO. This is the sort of thing that should be available to everyone, not just those who are willing to pay extra for premium cable channels. It’s cool, I’ll catch it on Netflix. It will be my first horror movie!
If you don’t know anything about it, it’s basically a documentary exposing so-called crisis pregnancy centers (CPCs) for the manipulative, lying, ridiculous pieces of crap that they are. And I’m sure there are some legitimate clinics out there, okay? But I’ve never come across one. It appears that these clinics will say anything to get women to continue with their pregnancies. And so my question to you guys is this: As a “pro-life” person, are you really okay with being lied to and manipulated by people who don’t think you’re smart enough or capable of making your own decisions?
And I’m not saying that to try to convince you that abortion is okay or right or acceptable. This isn’t just some feminist rhetoric. I’m legitimately curious. I’m want to know if you’re really okay with the people you support and claim to be fighting with doing anything it takes to “win” in this “battle”?
You can’t fight every kind of pregnancy prevention, except abstinence, and then take away every option women have when they become pregnant. It’s never going to work. Let’s all try living in the real world where people have sex (because aside from whatever fantasy land you choose, we have years and years and centuries of data to prove that people do, in fact, have sex). And having sex is pretty much the number one cause of pregnancy.
Because of that documentary, NARAL did similar studies on CPCs in California. I have to say, the results are no less disturbing on that side of the country.
I know this stuff isn’t interesting or entertaining or funny, but it’s important. Really think about this stuff, and decide how you feel. None of it is simple, none of it is easy, and we’re approaching these subjects from fundamentally different places. There really isn’t a middle ground, because the two don’t ever seem to meet up. It’s not one extreme end of a spectrum and the other. It’s two completely different spectrums. I don’t hope to change anyone’s mind, just encourage everyone to think before just blindly following something because of scare tactics or rhetoric. Do the research. Decide for yourself. And then insist that the people you support are fighting this fight with integrity.
Oh, and also…now we have to SAVE THE INTERNETS! Evil corporations. DOOM. Click. Read. Sign. (Also note that Google is a now a major player in this. Google who’s all about free-source code and blah blah the people having access, yada yada. It’s not good enough to just stop AT&T dudes. They aren’t the only bad guys here.)
Please don’t forget – Tomorrow is Femme Writes Day!
Aug 4th
On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of August, we’ve chosen to write about Physical and Mental Abuse. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.
Tomorrow’s topic is Physical and Mental Abuse, which can really be ANY kind of abuse: sexual, physical, emotional, verbal, or any other kind of abuse you can think of, toward women. Yes, we know that men get abused too, but again, for now, this is FEMME Writes.
Since this is such a sensitive topic, we want to provide anyone who needs it with an anonymous option to post on our Femme Writes site. If you have something that you want to write down or get out there, but you don’t want to put it on your blog, feel free to send us an email to femmes [at] femmewrites [dot] com and we will post your story anonymously.
On the other hand, don’t feel like you have to talk about something personal. This is a really broad topic, and you can write about any aspect of it that strikes you. We just want to hear your thoughts.
Right now, I’m so sickened by the Dallas Chief of Police David Brown, I can barely stand it, so I’ll be writing about rape, in all its forms and varieties. I know this is Texas, but it’s very disturbing to me that the Chief of Police can have such a casual attitude about victim-blaming for rape. Personally, I’d like to rape him and then tell him it’s his fault.
I think a key part of the problem is that most (not all, mind you) men can’t even contemplate the idea of being violated by rape. That’s why it’s so easy to push the blame off on the woman’s skirt or the woman’s drinking or the fact that a woman walked somewhere by herself. The completely pervasive idea that rape is about sex is another huge part of the problem. Rape is not about sex. Rape is about control and power. Period.
I’m going to stop now, so I have something to talk about tomorrow, but honestly, I think this man should be fired. How on earth can any woman feel like it’s going to do any good to report a rape if the Chief of Police is just going to blame her for it? Your job, as police chief, is to protect and serve, not blame the victims of crimes because you’re an ignorant prick.
I’m finally ready.
Jul 26th
This weekend was kind of rough. I had some minor surgery. Yes, I’m okay. There’s no reason to be worried. Plus, I can guarantee you won’t out-worry my friends, so you might as well just focus on your own stuff. I’m okay with that.
Anyway, I actually feel much MUCH better. Finally. There are lots of things I want to talk about, but this morning, there’s only one thing on my mind. And he looks a little something like this:
You see, in 1999, I got a dog. I went to the SPCA and there she was, sitting in her water bowl. Little did I know, this would later be not nearly as cute. I took her home and loved her more than I’ve loved most people in my life. She was my baby. Her name was Peanut.
Then, about a year and a half ago, she died. I’m not going to say any more about it because, well, I cried every time I had to say something about her yesterday, and I don’t really feel like crying this morning.
I didn’t get a new dog right away, because for me, it wasn’t just about having a dog. It was about having Peanut. Plus, a dog is a pretty serious commitment and one I just wasn’t ready to jump into. Yes, my fear of commitment even boils over into caring for animals.
And it’s not that I didn’t think I’d ever love another dog. It was just that I wasn’t ready.
Well, yesterday, apparently I was ready. Because yesterday, I went to the SPCA, just to check things out. I was under no circumstances going to get a puppy. Or a dog. But definitely not a puppy. No potty-training and having my shoes chewed. No whining and barking and yapping. Not for me. No sir.
When I walked in, I saw him. And oh, how cute he was. Just look at that face (above). I was strong, though. I moved on. I didn’t even slow down in the puppy section. I went straight for the grown-up dogs. I walked by each dog. There were lots of adorable ones, lots of sad ones. One in particular sort of yanked on my heart strings. A five-year-old Chow Chow with some sort of skin situation. She was so chill and so beautiful. Just the cutest little face.
But I was strong. I wanted a small dog, if I was going to get a dog. I live in an apartment, and I don’t want to subject a larger dog to the confines again. Peanut was a straight-up apartment dog. She lived in an apartment most of her life, but I still felt bad that she couldn’t run around the way she might want to. She was a German Shepard/Rottweiler mix. She weight about 90 pounds. She was adorable, but do you know how hard it is to find an apartment with a 90-pound Rottweiler mix? Yeah…so I knew I wanted a small dog. And nothing that could be considered aggressive (despite the fact that Peanut was scared of most bugs and never aggressed anything that didn’t aggress her first). And so I walked out of the dog section and back toward the door.
Where I ran into my old friend, cute tiny puppy. So I asked if I could play with him for a few minutes. I should have known better. He’s ridiculously sweet and so cute, you just want to eat him up. And now, he lives with me. We spent our first night together last night, snuggling. He experienced some separation anxiety, which resulting in some high-pitched squealing, this morning while I was in the shower. I think it will pass once he’s more comfortable, though.
They said he came to the shelter from another shelter, with a truck load of his friends. He was so matted, they had to cut off the hair around his waist. But only that hair, go figure. So he looks a little…flock of seagulls right now, in the abdominal area. He was infested with fleas and had two different parasites. My heart just broke to hear the story. I’ll never understand people who treat animals that way.
They named him Sparky at the shelter, but I’m still working on a real name for him. Sparky is my default nickname for people who are being idiots, so I’m sure he’ll still get called that sometime. I can’t decide if he needs a people name or another name. I’m usually really good at naming things, but I’m at a loss, so far. I want to see a little more of his personality before I settle on something.
He’s a little ball of energy, but he’s perfectly willing to sit down and snuggle with me, when I’m ready to relax. Also, he’s a morning person. Which we WILL have to fix. I can’t handle that much cheerful in the mornings. Right now, he’s sitting on his bed, behind my desk, just hanging out. He’s such a good boy.
So what do you guys think? Any name suggestions?
Whatever, Guy.
Jul 1st
**Special shout-out to Jules ( @meangirlgarage ) over at Mean Girl Garage! I just got my Babeland gift card in the mail from her giveaway, and I’m so excited! She’s having another giveaway today, so go over and check it out. Oh, it’s about sex toys, so only go check it out if you like sex toys. Otherwise…yeah, you’re probably not going to be interested. Thanks Jules!**
[Author's note: While looking for a graphic for this post, I was thinking about the MOVIE Swingers. So I typed "Swingers" into Google images and WHOA SIR THAT IS A LOT OF PENIS. I'm totally scarred and there will be no picture for this post. Sorry. And if you google image that word, I am SO not responsible for you getting fired. It should go without saying that it was incredibly NSFW. Yes, I'm at work.]
There’s this expression in the gaming world — okay, it’s probably not only in the gaming world, but that’s the only place I’ve really encountered it…you know what? Yeah, I should probably explain why I know things about the “gaming world.”
See, back in the day, I dated a guy for quite some time. Almost four years. And that guy? He was a gamer. So yeah, I’ve played some World of Warcraft and I’ll thank you to shut your whore mouth about it.
One night, we were playing WoW (man, it’s hard to type those words for the general public), and there was some dude being kind of a (virtual) jackass. My boyfriend (at the time) said to him, “Okay, guy.” This led to an hour long discussion of what on earth that means and how impressed I was that one could convey so much disdain by calling someone “guy.”
Well, I can never remember how the expression goes, so to me, it’s always, “Whatever, guy.” Which is WRONG. But I’m here to say to you, “Whatever, guy.”
And in this case, by “guy,” I mean you. You, Mr. Tries Too Hard. You, Mr. Needs So Much Attention. You, Mr. Wink and Point Guy. You know who you are.
Calm it down, dude. No one can keep up with that. It’s exhausting.
More than that, you never appear to be genuine to anyone with half a brain. Because anyone with half a brain can see that all you want is attention and that you will do and say whatever you think will get you the most. The problem is that it will never be enough. And you’re likely to drain the people in your life. Then you’ll just move on to new people and start the process over again.
Here are the Top 5 7 Ways Shine Would Suggest You Pull Your Head Out of Your Ass and Be A More Tolerable Human:
1. Stop saying you love everyone. You’re making the word cheap. How will anyone know when you really mean it, if you say it to everyone upon first meeting?
2. Stop trying so hard. For fuck’s sake, aren’t you tired? Figure out who you are, and be THAT.
3. Stop talking over people to make yourself heard. It’s okay to let others speak. And hey, if you listen, they just might say something interesting. Or talk about you. Which you love. (This rule is null and void if you’re in a conversation with someone who is just like you.)
4. Stop treating women like objects. It’s 2010 and we’re over it. It’s not “charming,” it’s annoying. We can see right through you. Women are people, too, and we aren’t here purely for your tactical and visual pleasure. Just because you want to touch us doesn’t mean we want you to touch us, capish? You’re not entitled to any parts of my body just because you exist and I’m near you.
5. Stop committing to do everything. No one has time to do everything. But since you can’t stand to be left out of the party, you can’t say no to anything. Mostly it just means that you either disappoint people or you show up most places tired and grumpy.
6. Stop being so damned sensitive. Just because someone doesn’t buy in to your particular brand of bullshit, it doesn’t mean you should threaten to jump off a bridge. Or any other such dramatic thing that’s totally empty because you’re just saying it to get attention. You can see how this is a problem, right?
7. Be your own person. Copying the behavior of other people is sad and pathetic. I mean, yes, we all pick things up from other people occasionally, but flat out ripping off someone else’s thing? Not cool, dude. Find your own swagger. (Yes, I just fucking said “swagger.”)
Here’s the best part. If you read that and thought, “Oh why is Shine being so mean to me?” Yeah, I’m probably talking about you. Unfortunately, some people are so clueless about their own behavior that they won’t get it. But that’s okay, they’re usually unreachable anyway.
