then again, maybe not
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January 04, 2006

Did you miss me?

Hmm, I bet you didn't. Fucker.

Anyway, the new year is here, and I'm out of my mind already. I don't think I'll be posting much over the next few weeks. Work is out of control right now. But, I wanted to give you a little something. Here are things I read today:

response to this.

Sigh. This makes me tired. Well, I was tired before, but it doesn't help. While I was at home over the holidays I an into a friend from highschool. We got to talking about work, which of course turned into a conversation about feminism and politics. I need to start telling people I sell insurance, so I don't have to spend 20 minutes standing on the sidewalk learning the policital beliefs of people I don't give a shit about. Whatev. This woman tells me she is jealous because it must be "so great" to work in a feminist envirornment" where it doesn't matter what you wear or what you look like, and everyone respects each other. Uh, that does sound nice. But that's not where I work. As far as I know, that's not where anyone works.

As Bitch says, "goods" are limited. When you're doing something and getting paid for it, and you have a structure above, below and all around you, there's no paradise. Nothing is perfect. That's not wrong, or sad, it's just true. My job's job is not to nurture and validate me. We're all here to get something done. While it's nice that what we're doing is for the good, it doesn't mean it's not work. That's not bad, or patriarchal, it's real.

And, over at Feministe, follow-up to Jill's posts about being a subject of (ahem) "conversation" over at a message board.


You Know What's Fun?

Reading all about how hideous you are on the internet. Adorable, aren’t they?
As soon as I read this, I figured that she's get tons of comments telling her she's beautiful, and not at all fat. And lo and behold, it came to pass. Because fat and ugly are the worst things you can be. Even to other feminists. Very few of the comments addressed the issue without assuring Jill that she's lovely.


That’s just bizzare. People aren’t just speculating that you must be
fat/ugly/bitter/all of the above. They are looking at pictures of you and
thensaying you’re ugly and fat. WTF? Are they following the same links I am?

You have absolutely nothing to worry about in the looks department.

In short, you’re getting this shit because you’re pretty, smart and
successful.

Jill says later:

And I do appreciate all the comments, but the point of the post wasn’t to say, “Please tell me I’m pretty!” Zuzu really summed it up when she wrote, “These
guys are obviously assholes, but it bothers me that being called fat and/or
hideous provokes such a strong, “But you’re not fat! You’re not ugly!” response.
I could just be feeling marginalized by the idea that being fat is the worst
thing a woman could be called.”
She also talks about why the message board chatter about her was upsetting. And the main reason was not because they said she was ugly. People on the board were talking about "hate fucking" her. People that go to her school, that she might see every day were threatening and horrible. That's a lot scarier than being called fat. Come on, people.

And finally, via Alas, this on Shrub.com, On Chivalry:

I care about what people try to do to me without my consent. I care about what the unspoken "rules" of chivalry mean for me and other women. And that is why I hate chivalry in its current incarnation, not because I'm against people opening doors for each other or whatever other considerate gestures they wish to extend.
And

If men really want to assist women, how about joining the fight for equal wages and political power? How about working for the maintenance of reproductive rights? How about boycotting the sexist, Anglo-centric, anti-fat, media?
And

Almost always when I bring up with my chivalrous male friends that I don't want a door opened for me, or I don't want my chair pulled out, or whatever, they try to shame me by telling me that I'm oversensitive, that I should be glad for
their help, etc. Sorry if I, you know, think my opinions should be the deciding
factor in what people do to me. My apologies, fellows. I'll just go back to
being the fragile desert flower who needs protection from big, strong men who
couldn't give a shit about my happiness.
That's the point folks. Andrea doesn't like it. Maybe you do. Maybe I do. Doesn't matter. She doesn't, and to try and talk someone out of what they want and what they feel is terrible manners. Go read.




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