I am a changed woman. I have no judgement, I only have outwardly grace and compassion. That’s what they teach you in nursing school.

I have no room to judge anyone after I’ve wiped shit off people laying in their death bed, after I’ve disinfected the diarrhea bathroom floor, after I’ve elevated and iced the scrotum of a 90 year old man, after I’ve changed adult diapers, after I’ve carried urine, measured poop, held the bucket while a recovering drug addict super cholo vomits uncontrollably, after I’ve had family members turn to me for answers. It’s been quite the semester.

On the plus side, who am I kidding, I can judge all I want but I know all our shit looks the same. And let me tell you something about nursing students and nurses in general. Ho. Lee. Shit. They like their drink. I knew I chose the right profession. This is what studying was like:

Typical Day:

8am-12pm: study

12pm sharp to whenever: cocktails

December 17, our last day of finals:

6-9am study

9am – leave for campus

10-12: actually take final

12pm- 4pm: lunch and beers at the Station

4pm: wear out our welcome at the Station walk to Hamiltons

4:10-7pm: beers at Hamiltons

7-9: sober up/nap

915: drinks and dinner downtown

10pm: drinks somewhere in the Gaslamp

12-2am: beer at some crazy Irish blues bar (is that even a thing?) catering to the over 50 crowd. Have the most hilarious time of the whole night here.

I may or may not be changed but I am certainly wiser for the wear. Also, I’m not afraid of giving shots anymore. I could do it with a drink in my hand while having a conversation. Line em up, I’ll take em down!

I really should write more about school, it’s fascinating. I will ensure you now though, that I love it. Have no fear.

****

I’m pretty sure one of my cats got really high last night. When the other one started his midnight rodeo I shouted, “TBU! TBU! Get that one high too! We might be able to have a peaceful night!” It was considered but not acted upon.

****

I’ve been away for quite a sometime and while I can’t blame it entirely on Kings of Leon, their new album certainly didn’t help. The shit show started with the awful, awful, racist, completely unbelievable video for Radioactive. I mean it warrants a commentary similar to the one I begged for re: Smell yo Dick

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wPBbMbKSZrQ

Luckily, this video actually had some commentary to better articulate my icky feelings about this video. Go here for that. That article brings up just the tip of the ice berg of inarticulable feelings I have about that video. The first and foremost being that it is just cheesy shit, even if it weren’t racist, it’s still gad awful.

I can’t even tell if the rest of the album is decent because it’s all been tainted by the caca of what my eyes saw. I think I’ll skip this go round on the ferris wheel and take the next one. I don’t need a whole album about your nostalgic, idealization of southern male bravado. Yes, that’s essentially the image they’ve carved out for themselves, but this album doesn’t have the soul. Instead of being about raucous-ness and what it means to be a boy in the South with a boner and a drink, this album is about damsels in distress and pretending to be a man while preaching the virtues of Tennessee and everything that is holy below the Mason Dixon line. It just doesn’t have it, not for me at least. Maybe they’re growing up and this is the manifestation. But really it just seems like a desperate plea to convince themselves that they are still the hardcore Southern family band they think of themselves as instead of the corporate sellouts that they are.

And I’m not calling them sellouts because I hate this album, I knew what they were all about way before that, but I didn’t mind, the music was still fun to listen to even as it got progressively more polished, produced and adult contemporary radio friendly. But some line has been crossed and they need to find their way back to the other side.

How can a band go from making me sing along to shit like, “I‘d come all over your party but I’m soft*” to singing a song about some dudes pickup truck. I mean good lord, I couldn’t have predicted a more tragic let down if I let Pete Wentz write, produce and perform the whole shenanigan.

One thing can’t be denied and I’d be stupid to try, Caleb’s voice is still the beautiful bastard child of Janis Joplin and Bradley Nowell, it’s smooth as freshly swept gravel and I love it.

*I’m pretty sure that’s not the exact lyric but that’s how I sing it because I think it fits in just fine with the rest of the song. And if that isn’t what he’s saying, it’s what he should be saying.

****

Oh! Fuck KOL, I have some more news from my actual life. I got straight A’s last semester. It was a hard fight for every point, in one class I only got an A by 3 points, but I made it! Now it’s my registration appointment and I’m terribly confused by what classes I’m supposed to register for. My solution for that is just not to register at all. I’ll wait until they threaten my continued admission then ask a couple questions I guess.

****

You know that Sublime song, April 29, 1992, that shouts out all the cities in which they would like to incite a riot? This one right here

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gh5ogOH82Aw

The shout outs start at 2:59. Any way, every time we pass through Fountain Valley, which is not too often but has happened with increased frequency since moving back to San Diego (also mentioned!), I start singing this song. It is like a reflex. My doctor could test the intactness of my auditory nerve and higher level cognitive functioning by mentioning Fountain Valley and measuring the time it takes me to start singing.

Finding that video has led me into the deep rabbit hole that is Sublime songs set to fan tribute videos. They are awful.

40 oz to Freedom is an amazing album. The first Sublime song I heard was Waiting for My Ruca, it was off The Mallrats soundtrack, I was 12 and I was like, OH MY GOD I LOVE THAT BASS! Booom, Boooom. I was hooked.

****

I start classes again, January 18. I am in no way prepared for the early mornings, the stress and all the poop. The poop! You guys, so much poop. Being on break has changed my schedule to waking up past by noon on an early day and not getting started on my daily routine until about 3. This a a problem when, in less than two weeks, I am going to be expected to be up and ready to monitor peoples lives by 6:30am.

The Millionizer is falling and laughing at the drinks we spilled

On Sunday night a woman was raped and beaten across the street from my house. Like right across the street. A place I’ve walked a million times before and will continue to walk – alone if need be. When I found out, I kept trying to remember what I was doing when it happened. I was watching TV. That was it. I was fucking watching TV while someone was having what I assume is going to be the worst night of their life. I wasn’t scared to find out but I was fucking pissed. I was angry I didn’t know it was happening otherwise I would have helped. Maybe I couldn’t have stopped it but I could have been a witness. As it is now, there are none.

Part of the problem is the fact that it happened behind a large tree and several really high hedges. It was dark and there was no light from a nearby street light. It would have been easy for someone walking on the other side of the street to not notice.

When the story broke yesterday I was on my way to work but I thought about pruning the tree and hedges myself when I got back home. When I drove by at 2:30 yesterday afternoon one guy had taken it upon himself to cut the foliage. When I drove by again at 4 (I drive a lot for work and it’s a small town) there was a group of people working on it. When I left for work this morning the hedges were completely eliminated and the tree looked like some kind of wonky lollipop. It was awesome.

I’ve been keeping up with the story online and when I googled it yesterday every article made sure to mention that the woman was drunk and walking alone at night. Commenters of course blamed her, even suggesting she deserved it for being so dumb. Unfortunately I expected this, but my reaction was still horror. I’m probably preaching to the choir, but alone, drunk or whatever – nothing is an invitation for rape. Get a fucking clue!

It was front page news today when she identified her attacker as Latino, well that set off a whole other shit storm. “Of course he was Latino!” Is the nicest way of summarizing how people felt about that.

You can read about it by googling “seabright rape” today’s article is here. Interestingly (or not), I took a picture of graffiti on the house two years ago. You can see it on the last picture of this post, eerily titled “It is TOO risky!” in which I call the animal the “Seabright Monster.” Fuck that’s creepy. The shadows from the trees and hedges give you an indication of how overgrown it was but that was two years ago. Up until yesterday afternoon the Seabright Monster would not have been visible from where I took the picture.

I was thinking of this woman today when I posted flyers around campus to sell my microbiology lab manual. And I was thinking about her when I met Paul out front to exchange the items. We both noticed the police tape whipping in the wind. I’m not going to get paranoid but I’m not telling my mom either.

The Millionizer would probably only injure herself if she ever used pepper spray

The absolute worst time to mention anything that I find even remotely unsettling is when I’m high. Once I ate a ganja edible and couldn’t fathom leaving the house for an improv party. In the interest of staying on topic I won’t rant about the fuckery that is an improv party. Instead, I stayed home and watched Rock of Love while TBU went and claimed my illness. I previously kinda enjoyed Rock of Love but almost had a mental breakdown while watching it. I was rocking back and forth near tears at the baseness of humanity. Every time I’m high I believe that I see through all the bullshit into society’s real intentions. And by intentions I mean evil intentions. I’ve come up with several theories while high, that I still firmly stand by, no matter how cacamamie (sp?!). Like how the government secretly funds big budget, hive like TV shows like Lost in order to coerce people into complacency that weren’t previously rounded up by lesser forms of entertainment, Everybody Loves Raymond anyone? There is a reason I had to curtail the habit.

Last Saturday night I was persuaded to partake. When I said no, everyone was all, “Noooooo, Millz you’re the best when you’re high!” “C’mon!” So like the forever 16 year old that I am, I did it. How wrong they all were.

**Start skipping**

Like two seconds after I started in with my marijuana induced babble TBU said, “Do you guys want to hear about the coolest thing I saw in a porn?” In my head I was like NOOOOO noooOOOO nOOOOOOO! But I only made a face that said you are the biggest fucking retard, why would I want to hear that right now? Apparently TBU doesn’t read faces so he proceeded to tell us about a scene where two chicks were lesbians (first off: I’m sure they were real life lesbians second: how fucking original) and they needed a place to live so some guy was all, oh you can live here but I get to fuck you guys. Just that was enough to get me SO FUCKING IRRITATED. But that wasn’t the worst part. So the dude starts doing it with one chick but then has the other chick put her mouth right next to the other girls vag so the guy could stick his dick in one hole and then the other.

**You can decide to stop skipping now**

It wasn’t so much that mental image that bothered me. I mean, I have seen a few porns in my life (I hate the word porno, I will not use it). But the image that it conjured up came to symbolize the utter disgust I had at the whole situation. So in the week that’s almost passed it’s been replaying like an unwelcomed guest in my head and every time I see it I get angry like really, really fucking angry. So angry it’s been ruining my whole week, I couldn’t listen to Adam Carolla, I couldn’t watch TV without wanting to pop a cap in “the man’s” ass.

What angered me about it was 1. The reason TBU thought it was soooo disgusting. It wasn’t because women were being exploited for whatever dick accommodating hole they possessed but because one girl got a mouthfull of a dick that had just been in another chick. Why is that the gross part? Weren’t they just lezzing out? He can’t tell me or anyone he hasn’t had a face full of vag. 2. The porn industry is by and large just fucked up. 3. I’m extremely sensitive to sexual abuse issues.

I have always instinctively seen the inner workings of things. I was the kid who wanted to go behind rides at Disneyland and see them move. I have never been able to watch any sort of media without thinking of the crew that set up the lights, what the actors were thinking as they did whatever they did on screen, how the movie got funded, how that shot was set up, how the editor thought of that crazy technique etc. etc. etc. And it’s only gotten worse since I graduated college where I delighted in learning to deconstruct the theory and essence of moving pictures. So, when I see porn now I don’t see hot sex. I mostly see sad girls with sad smiles wearing a lot of makeup, acting out past abuses and the dudes who are fucking them onscreen and behind the scenes. I see the director coming up with ridiculous postions and ordering them up. I see girls and women who are leasing their bodies for a $1200 shoot in Simi Valley and the hope of one tomorrow. I see the bruises no one bothered to cover up. I see a lot of emptiness. What I don’t see is how anyone can get off on that.

I’m totally aware of the exceptions to these rules and that’s part of my argument. Because I’m not offended by the theory of porn. I don’t think it’s inherently wrong and I fully support the freedom of sex to be a commodity by consenting adults. But just like we don’t support the idea of our shoes and clothes being made by people who’ve been stripped of their rights, why should we support the idea of women being tossed around by the porn industry? Why not support porn that puts women in a position of power? That’s not what turns you on you say? That’s fine because I don’t necessarily mean a position of power during sex. I mean a position of power in the industry that markets and sells their bodies.

Those women are out there and I thinks it’s important that they are supported. If you want porn, quality porn where the woman is actually enjoying it and her screams are of actual pleasure, find a woman who makes her own. Or find a company like Kink.com that gives the talent the right to their bodies on screen. Yes, these porn venues usually cost money. But that’s kinda good because when you give them money you make their business model viable and you encourage other similarly focused business models. That increases distribution and access. Just like we support local, sustainable agriculture, just like we support renewable energy.

I’m not going to hold my breath but wouldn’t it be fucking nice if porn was no longer the dumping ground for sexual abuse (trying to) survivors? Wouldn’t it be nice if they were kinda forced to find a more healthy outlet to work their shit out in?

TBU’s answer to this was to just not talk to me about porn anymore. I don’t think he gets my point. I’m not angry that he watches porn, I genuinely don’t care. What bothers me is him busting a nut to the exploitation of women who are in a desparate situation. True, I don’t have empirical evidence that these women were abused or are currently being abused but as long as he’s not directly supporting the production of porn where women are seen as business, creative and sexual equals he’s supporting the status quo. And that is the worst part. That is the feeling that accompanies the image I’ve been seeing all week.

The Millionizer says TBU is due for a post about his awesomeness

The Millionizer

My weekend was friggin awesome, it started Thursday afternoon and is just ending now. We were in Tahoe visiting the Teebs’ family. They’re really fun and I mentioned how I wish hanging out with my mom was as unstressful. OHMYGOD how fucking terrible is that? It was terrible when I just thought it but actually verbalizing and committing the sentiment to the internet seems somehow worse. But also kinda good. I hope other people feel the same way.

Speaking of stressful moms, my shame was lessened when I realized that it’s not all fun and sunshine for TBU and his brothers when it comes to their mom, either. We tried to go out to lunch with her, she had a lot of conditions to be met though. The main one being that we had to eat on the water. We couldn’t just eat a tasty lunch in a convenient location, no we had to eat somewhere overpriced with a view. So we did. Do not eat at Jakes. Now, I know why TBU puts up with all my ridiculous demands in stride.

But let’s get onto the good stuff. We got to the cabin Saturday night in time for dinner, while everyone ate their chicken soup, I ate my specially prepared veggie soup thanks to Mama TBU. I was so grateful. Especially after last weeks staff meeting where everyone but me got a free lunch because bossman forgot about my vegetarian meal. I’m glad he remembered the two other special orders though, that made me feel real good. And fuck no, I do not want chips and/or bite size kitkats for lunch.

OK, trying to reign it in. We were talking about good stuff, no? I mean, the weekend was awesome, so there. My favorite place to eat in Tahoe is El Sancho, go there, get the breakfast burrito with avocado and thank me later. I hesitate to put that Yelp link in because there are only 5 reviews (soon to be 6!) but it’s got the address and phone number. Seriously just go to Tahoe for the best breakfast burrito of your life. We did, and we took it across the street and ate on the water because Mama TBU was with us.

The gambling was not so fruitful, save for the momentary excitement we all felt while playing the Big Spin and the needle got this close to the $1000 slice of pie. We rode that wave clear through this morning. Otherwise, Chris the blackjack dealer took our monies and got TBUs mom all in a huff when he hit on me.

Oh yeah and there’s a hot tub. Which is such a frickin luxury on a cool night after casino cocktails. Of course, the brothers TBU cannot be bothered to pack water attire. TBU can barely be bothered to pack. Anyone who has seen him away from home overnight can attest that his luggage is a Trader Joe’s bag, double bagged if it’s more than one night. So when TBUs naked brother started to massage my back with his feet I had to draw the line. It’s not the first time I’ve been the only clothed one, either. They don’t even realize they’re naked, they walk around with their skinny, straight line alien bodies in complete comfort. It’s almost admirable and at this point I barely notice it.

On the way back we stopped at the jelly belly factory in Fairfield. We wanted to go again to get samples and see the rainbow-y production line but we almost left after seeing all the mccock/pitbull signs in the parking lot. These weren’t lawn signs for the uncommitted, these were almost billboard size for the truly committed asshole/billionaire. As we walked in we wished we had Obama shirts but settled for all the free goodies we could get. Once during the tour we got stuck behind two old ladies with too much perfume. By the end, I learned to follow the Japanese woman to stay ahead of the crowd and have a pleasant breathing environment. Those are a people at the front of the line. So my point is don’t buy jelly belly jelly beans unless… well I would hope you wouldn’t want to, especially if you have a uterus and enjoy higher learning. (Fruit flies are incredibly important to science, man. They share 98% of our DNA and most of the medical advances we benefit from are a result of fruit fly testing at some point in the research and development process. Yes, even Down’s Syndrome studies you fucking fuck.)

Whoa. I really can’t help myself at this point though. What do we have, like 9 days? I may lose my mind and start throwing poop. The sheer amount of things I want to say about this election is precisely what has prevented me from posting the last few weeks. It’s too much. I literally can start crying at the thought of either candidate winning, for different reasons. Do I believe Barack is our messiah? No, but I believe in him. I honestly do, and if, on November 4th, I am cheering instead of throwing up I will know that I’ll undoubtedly be disappointed in him at several points during his administration. But those are disappointments I’m willing to accept considering the alternative.

The Millionizer also reminds us Californians to VOTE NO ON PROP 8*

*godammit, do I really have to say that? I don’t see how a couple of homos ruins your marriage. Get over yourselves you weird ass religious freaks. And the next pair of mormons at my door has an earful coming, and a couple cold glasses of water. It gets hot out there.

Like all of us, (some of us?), TBU partook in the great cousincest experiment of the late 80′s/early 90′s. You’re little and your parents could give a shit who sees who naked because you’re family and certainly too young to notice any bodily differences. But you do and it is fascinating. One of my cousins was obsessed with watching me pee because I sat down. So every time I went, he did too. Afterwards, he would ask questions like, “Why does it come out the back?” Eventually, we touched each other in a vaguely sexual way. It was really my first experience. After a while it just stopped. You know, cuz people grow out of things.

Well Mr. TBU apparently didn’t get that memo. I met hmmmmm, let’s call her Jenna, in Canada. She’s a nice enough person. My problem is not with her (or even her skin although it can be described as corn poop with concealer) it is with TBU.

At first, it was just a fleeting thought. Is he flirting with her? Whoa, Millz you’re being weird. Then it happened again and then at one point it was just undeniable. That was day 2 out of an 11 day trip. It was a bunch of little things. Making sure she was warm, carrying her load of beer bottles while I carried my own, freaking out because his brother left her alone with drunkle (when if it was me it wouldn’t have mattered), little hugs here and there, walking her the 20 ft back because he wanted to make sure “she got there safe,” etc. etc. etc. Those little things guys do when they try really, really hard to bang you. That coupled with the fact that he could just not stop talking about her. He was like 16 again. I sat back and watched, bewildered, pissed, hurt and ready to leave him.

There was no way to bring it up, not while it was all happening. His whole family was there. They all own cottages around a lake. We stayed with his mom, whose cottage has walls that aren’t more than an inch thick or entirely connected to the cieling. And having that kind of fight was out of the question. Meanwhile, I made sure my time wasn’t wasted, by talking to everyone, drinking, popping pills and generally having an, otherwise, good time.

Finally, we were in Ottawa, in our own hotel room and I mentioned it. As soon as we got there he wanted to call Jenna. He immediately wanted to go to the bar she works at even though she wasn’t going to be there until 10:30. Enough was enough and lucky for him we were alone. Of course he denied it. He wanted examples. How can you give examples for something like that? And he knew anything I said would have sounded silly. “You ignored me.” “You keep talking about her.” “You want to hang out with her too much.” “You’re flirting with her.” They all sound stupid and baseless and I knew it but I didn’t care. His defense was that he doesn’t get to see his family very often. If that were true then he would want to hang out with all his cousins who live in Ottawa not just the one he diddled when he was 11.

He accused me of being jealous and needing too much attention. The asshole go-to comment for boys who don’t want to accept responsibility for their actions. The only part that hurt was the implication that there was something I should be jealous of. She looks exactly like her brother, who TBU himself described as, “ugly and duuuuuh.” She has cankles the size of Kerri Strugs cast and is blistery red from all the drinking and tanning. When I giggled after he said that, it was genuine. If I were jealous I don’t think I would have hung out with her all day in my bathing suit. After I saw everyones cankles and cellulite I was like, fuck these pants, my legs may be thick but they’re smooth with identifiable ankles. If I were jealous I probably wouldn’t have talked to her, hung out with her or gotten to know her. Boys, if you’re going to accuse your girl of being jealous make sure she is, otherwise it makes you look guilty and stupid.

I stared at him and told him that I knew exactly what he was doing and I knew he did too, whether he wanted to admit it or not and if he was going to continue his behavior we needed to break up immediately. He mumbled, “Well I can’t break up with you now.” I asked why, because if there was ever a time it was now, foreign country or not. I had money, I had a hotel room, I had a plane ticket back home and a map of the city, I would be fine. He said he didn’t want to break up and I told him his actions said otherwise and if he meant it he would have to start treating me like he meant it.

Later that night, we met everyone at the bar. TBU was boyfriendly again until he got drunk. He danced with Jenna on one of the platforms, I was invited too but I was not about to be an incest sandwich. Their dancing wasn’t particularly obscene, it was, in fact, awkward and forced but everyone was trying to have a good time and pretend it wasn’t weird to be partying with their cousins. I danced with one of TBU’s brothers and suddenly I was the object of TBU’s affection. It was like clockwork, have a good time with his brother and get some attention from TBU. Typical.

Jenna disappeared and I was still somehow coerced into an incest sandwich while cousins and brothers danced together in one pulsing cluster. Last call was announced and I made my last trip to the bathroom and whose beet red cankles do I see? Why their Jenna’s! Her brother, mom and best friend were holding her hair back and feeding her water. I got her some towels, wiped her face up and told everyone I’d see them tomorrow at the wedding. Outside TBU refused to leave because he wanted to say bye to Jenna. Literally refusing to leave the bar. His brothers are shoving him down the sidewalk while he protests. I tell him I saw her in the bathroom and she’s not coming out anytime soon. Finally his drunk ass lost motivation and the search for a cab started. Considering the last few days though, his actions at the bar were trivial.

Later that night, me, him and his two brothers are sitting around the hotel room, preparing for a late night walk and a smoke. I’m talking to one brother while the other two are across the table. I hear TBU mention how cute Jenna is and his brother laughed and said, “No she’s not. Every other girl I’ve seen has been way hotter than her.” The conversation devolved and the brother winds up saying TBU has been flirting with Jenna the whole trip. Vindication! TBU naturally became loudly defensive. I would too, if I were flirting with my cousin in front of my family and my girlfriend and then someone who has no vested interest in it called me on my actions. I looked at TBU smiled and went back to talking with the brother.

TBU was pretty drunk that night and claims not to remember much of what happened, including the conversation with his brother, but interestingly enough he was entirely pleasant to be around afterwards.

The thing is, is that I don’t think he actually wanted to fuck her but I do think he wanted her to want to fuck him. Get it? It’s the idea of being desirable. I understand that. It’s nice to feel attractive. But have some boundaries and decorum for fucks sake. To her credit Jenna was perfectly unresponsive to TBU’s actions: refusing to let him walk her home or carry much of anything for her and making sure she wasn’t alone with him so as to avoid anything seeming uncouth. If I was in her position I might even be upset for being put in that position. How stupid does he think people are? It was an insult all around.

The good stuff to come later.

The deal is this: Moe and Tracie (aka Slut Machine) are writers/editors for Jezebel and each have their own blog. They are funny and gross and don’t really give a shit that you may not think so. They were invited to be interviewed on an episode of Shoot the Messenger, in a segment titled Thinking and Drinking, hosted by Lizz Winstead, co-creator of the Daily Show. What emerged from that interview was a mushy mess that left several people freaked out by the Jezebels comments and ready to form a lynch mob. A feminist lynch mob no less.

I don’t think the interviewees, interviewer or audience members could agree on what the show is and should have been that night. I also have a feeling Lizz Winstead and most of the audience had never actually read the works of the two writers. Or at least not enough to get a handle on the fact that if you invite them to a comedy show entitled Thinking and Drinking they might actually do that. Moe and Tracie took the drinking part to heart, which I imagine they do in their day to day lives anyway.

I watched the entirety of the interview. It started out enjoyable and when it got to the sticky icky parts I barely even noticed what people were all up in arms about. I heard Tracies comments about rape and totally got what she was saying. She was not saying rape was OK or that it is the victims fault. What she did say (imho) is that we put ourselves into situations where we feel comfortable and when we ignore those instincts bad things can happen. She wasn’t saying that she’s never been raped because she is smarter than rape victims; she said she’s never been raped because she trusts her instincts. Granted, she was drunk and it didn’t come out so coherently. But fucking christ people, are you really going to hold Drinking and Thinking interviewees to an unattainable standard of being role models, definitive feminists and coherently drunk?

Lizz Winstead has the credibility of being a co-creator of a super awesome show that makes me want to snuggle. However, she came off as shrill and condescending during this interview. Did I agree with everything Moe and Tracie said? No. But I did want to hear it because I find these women interesting. She reprimanded Moe and Tracie and sometimes didn’t even let them finish their sentences because she didn’t agree with what was spilling out of their mouths. There was a lot of tension in the room, I felt it on my side of the screen. She played to the audiences insecurity and confusion, making campy faces and basically having them join her in a big what the fuck?!

She took on the role of feminist mother guiding her young ducklings to be the right kind of feminist. The problem arose when Moe and Tracie wouldn’t grab her hand and follow. They respectfully acknowledged what previous feminists had done for them but disagreed with them on several points. Lizz seemed to forget the point of feminism! To question standard methods and practices. First wave feminism wasn’t perfect, whatever wave we are in now isn’t perfect but it is the compounding of knowledge and experiences that strives for total equality. Yes, Tracie called Gloria Steinem a dinosaur. But she was drunk! When I’m drunk and on the spot, there is no way I’m going to be able to come up with something like, “Gloria Steinem is part of the old establishment of feminism. A very basic tenet of feminism is to question establishment and improve on the traditional ways of doing things so that women can enjoy equality blah blah blah….” No, I’m probably going to call Gloria Steinem a dinosaur. Deal.

Moe gave a detailed account of her date rape and kind of blew it off in the end. Lizz totally crossed the line when she criticized the way Moe dealt with her rape.  Moe wasn’t denying the gravity of her experience but just chose not to make it a pool of pity in her life. That is something I can totally respect. After it happened, she was confused and ultimately decided not to pursue legal action because she didn’t want to deal with it. Lizz called her selfish for not protecting other women. And I kinda agree with that stance, however, Moe was 19 when this happened and admitted that if it happened now it would have been totally different. Also, it is estimated that rape goes largely unreported for a variety of reasons. Ideally it would be reported, investigated and prosecuted but that is so rarely the case. And can you really blame Moe for not wanting to go through the agonizing process of filing a rape charge? Especially after it’s been disclosed that even when a woman reports a rape and undergoes a humiliating forensic sampling procedure all her efforts may be for nothing. So really Lizz, was it so selfish? Have you never committed a selfish act against your fellow women? Because I know I have and I would be pretty fucking pissed if someone had the gall to give me shit about it in front of an audience then post a video of it on the internet prefaced by:

I feel a responsibility to hold these young women accountable for the statements they make as they seem sure to keep repeating them.

Whether there was a pre-interview or not, who ever said what before hand is not really the issue here. The issue is that the format of the show was not clear to anyone, including the host. Lizz swung wildly from making jokes about her multiple abortions (“My sister calls me Terminator 3″) to being overbearing in the face of controversial opinions (interrupting Moe and Tracie with “What the FUCK!”). Moe and Tracie seemed genuinely blindsided by the hostility coming from Lizz and the audience. After all, they were invited and promoted as the editors of Jezebel, where their opinions are widely known. Who wouldn’t be suprised with what transpired?

Many people have said that Moe and Tracie were rude to the people who paid to see them. But I think they are forgetting that people paid to see them. If I pay for a Bon Jovi concert I’m not going to be pissed when Bon Jovi walks out. I would be pissed if they tried to be Def Leppard. But that’s the thing, Tracie and Moe were not Def Leppard, they were themselves, unapologetically themselves. And isn’t that why they were invited in the first place? Certain audience members may have been appalled but that doesn’t make their points any less valid. People may disagree and not understand their brand of humor, but that doesn’t make demons out of Tracie and Moe.

They were berated during the interview, and later in forum threads, for being poor role models. I’m not going to even get into the fact that they are just doing their job, because I think everyone knows it even if they don’t want to concede that point. What bothers me most about the whole role model business is that people, including Lizz Winstead, do not give young girls enough credit. We can read a humorous essay about doing coke off a random guys boner and using the pull out method as a sole source of birth control and not do the same things ourselves. Do I think pulling out is an acceptable form of birth control? Fuck no. Do I think it’s funny when Moe says, “it’s the birth control method that feels the best?” Fuck yes. It doesn’t mean we are going to go fuck strangers in a club bathroom. Some of us may decide to do that but Moe and Tracie won’t be the catalyst. We are smart, we can decide for ourselves who to emulate, if we want to emulate someone at all. We are smart, we don’t need you to censor others for us.

Being an avid reader of mainly Tracies but definitely of Jezebel as a whole, I watched the interview and I agree it wasn’t the best forum for these two. Not because I was offended or felt they came off as stupid or whatever. But because these two are writers and being put in front of an audience with a combative host isn’t their forte. They were a few drinks deeper than they should have been but no one should have been surprised. They have admitted to stage fright and beyond that, it’s what they write about; getting drunk and fucking. Who’s the idiot for expecting something different?

I don’t think there was an apology in order. And there hasn’t been one, not from Tracie or Moe at least. But Anna posted this kind of retraction/oops/apology at Jezebel. Unfortunately, Moe and Tracy have retreated. Moe has reduced her blog to this and Tracie hasn’t updated since posting a video of Lizz Winstead drunk. Which means I haven’t had any new sex or drugs content from one hysterical writer, and that is the real tragedy in all of this.

[tags]lizz winstead, moe tkacik, tracie egan, jezebel, feminism, shoot the messenger, thinking and drinking[/tags]

People are often surprised to learn I work with retar cognitively impaired* people. Like you become some righteous asshole as soon as you start the job or something. I (mostly) love it but here are some adjectives that would also accurately describe my day

• frustrating
• extremely frustrating
• gross
• confusing
• irritating
• boring
• limiting
• excrutiating
• and on and on

So yeah, I need to be able to have a sense of humor about it. The funny part about me saying retarded is the fact that my clients are constantly saying it. They even call each other retarded. But not in like a mentally challenged way, they use it like we use it. I’m not really defending myself because you’re going to be offended if you’re going to be offended and I’m just going to keep on saying it. I’m just giving you some context, yeah you. You know who you are.

I’m totally in the Mimi Smartypants boat on this one. I think she said something like, “If we can’t use retarded to speak about actual retarded people can’t we use it for the rest of us?” She’s getting at the fact that it should be obvious we aren’t referring to a “special” person when we say retarded. And honestly, any euphemism is equally if not more offensive. How often have you heard someone say special, slow or simple with quotes around it?

When I called my cat retarded, it would have been rude to call her cognitively impaired or whatever the nicety of the moment is. Wouldn’t that be rude to people who are actually dealing with a disability? Not only to the person with a disability but to their family. They aren’t helping a retard they’re caring for a person with a disability. Often families spend all their time and money caring for this one person and comparing my dumb cat to that is um stupid.**  Because my cat is (probably) not cognitively impaired but she is definitely retarded.

Retarded means impeded in some way. Here are some retarded sentences

• Getting home is being retarded by all this traffic
• I’m retarding the growth of my 401(k) by buying all these drugs
• My cat just tried to run outside but was retarded by the screen

Do you see my point? Are we going to start coming up with PC ways to say fire retardant? Because that would be retarded.

Personally, I’d like to see the other blogs BlogHer isn’t linking to because of their offensive content. Not that there’s anything wrong with the ones they are linking to, I’ve just seen them all already.

*And jeez you can’t even use any of the ambiguous words you think are correct because you probably don’t even know what the persons disability is. How would you like it of you had a completely normal mind but were called cognitively impaired or mentally challenged because you used a wheelchair or had a speech impediment? Or if your disability has nothing to do with your development but people insisted on calling you developmentally delayed?

**Much like the time I was talking to this woman and accidentally compared the vet losing my cats ashes to when she went in for surgery and woke up to realize they had performed an unauthorized abortion. Do you see how ridiculous that is? We can’t allow this to continue.

[tags]retarded, working with the disabled, my cat is dumb, the dss, tact is for the unwitty[/tags]

The thing about eating with a bunch of other people, especially new people, is that I inevitably end up explaining myself. “No, thank you” to a meat dish eventually becomes, “I’m vegetarian” or “I don’t eat meat” on the third try. Sometimes TBU will say it for me, just to get it out already. Oh! you’re a vegetarian? Their eyes get wide with fake enthusiasm. Do you eat chicken? No. Do you eat shrimp? No. Do you eat fish? No. Well, you’re the real thing aren’t you?

Well I wouldn’t be a vegetarian if I ate meat now would I?

There was a barbeque Friday night but I figured there would be plenty of other stuff. Like MC Chris, I prefer the whore derves. Don’t click that link, that song is fucking foul. TBU’s family and his moms, husbands family were all there. Friday night was the first meal we all had together. Everyone got their questions out of the way, and it was fine.

Saturday morning, we had brunch together. It was more like ordering a bunch of sandwiches at Safeway and eating them on the beach. But there are no vegetarian sandwiches. I eat some almonds and some trail mix and look around for things I could make a meal of. There wasn’t really anything unless I wanted a meals worth of juice and chips. And this is where it gets annoying. An uncle suggests I “just take the meat off.” I wasn’t rude but I said, “It doesn’t really work that way.” He smiled and nodded. Sweet TBU asked his mom if there were any vegetarian sandwiches but made the mistake of asking in front of everybody. People were perplexed, “There’s nothing you can eat in there?” I wonder if they would like a whole meal of juice and chips. TBU’s mom solves the problem with, “You can just take the meat off and eat the rest!” I say thanks but that’s not really an option. I know everyone means well but for fuck’s sake, think about it for a second. A new step-brother suggests I eat the veggie sushi in the fridge. Now this was the first viable option. But unfortunately, sushi, especially grocery store sushi, tends to have super glutenous rice which gives me a headache. So it wasn’t actually an option but at least he was on the right track.

By this point I’ve just decided to go get something on my own. It’s not a big deal. I don’t expect to be catered to, even if I wasn’t a vegetarian. But the act of refusing someone’s food doesn’t feel good. I feel like the message I send to other people is, “This food doesn’t meet my high ethical standards. You can eat it, but I will not.” I suspect it makes other people feel bad too, or at least a little awkward. TBU’s mom was genuinely apologetic for not remembering to get me something. It was her wedding celebration and I felt terrible for making her feel that way. I know some people are self conscious eating meat around me. That’s not what I’m all about. I make my decisions for me and don’t expect others to follow. Of course, I would love it if everyone were vegetarian or the world supply of meat was produced by humane practices. But I can only control myself and even that’s a little much.

On the way to get my food, tears welled in my eyes. I don’t really know why. I know I was feeling frustrated and a little embarrassed and maybe a little looked over. After all, I had to wait 2 hours so TBU could do his videography duties. But really, I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made me cry. But it was strong and barely subsided by the time we got to the taqueria.

Hours after everyone eats their brunch. And TBU has videotaped the grandkids on the sand. I finally get to eat. This only draws more attention from everyone. I’m sitting there all alone, eating my special meal.

Later that night, after the ceremony we go to the Hyatt’s super classy restaurant for dinner. And here is where I get pissed. The only item on the menu without animal was pasta. FUCKING PASTA. I can make that shit at home. I don’t worry though because this is a classy joint with a real live chef and I’m sure there is something else I can find out about if I just ask the server. I do and she pauses, finally letting out a long, “Weeeell,” followed by, “I guess you can have like a plate of grilled vegetables?” I am just kinda flabbergasted that there is no vegetarian plate that can be made. Even if it was just a bunch of sides like mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables and something else. Like really? I’m used to the obligatory veggie burger at diners and shit. But the fucking Hyatt at Tahoe can’t make anything other than pasta?! I order the pasta before anyone wonders why I’m taking up so much of the servers time.

The pasta comes with a fat chunk of goat cheese on it. I love cheese so I try it. Goat cheese tastes more like goat than cheese. So I moved it to the corner of my plate. A new step brother notices and says, “Oh you don’t eat cheese?” I say I just didn’t like the goat cheese. But I knew what he meant. I may be super sensitive but after the mornings vegetarian sandwich fiasco and the previous night’s dinner, I’m convinced it was a comment on my perceived finicky-ness. Oh how I wish he only knew!

Dinner moves along, the server comes by and yells, “Hows my little vegetarian? Did you get enough to eat?” The table turns to me as I smile and say, “Yes, thank you.” But her comment encompasses the most annoying things people can say to me. “Little” just implies I’m a child going through a phase. Like Lisa Simpson or something. And asking if I got enough to eat shows how uninformed most people are about being a vegetarian. Vegetarians have a plethora of meal options. It is a vast, vast field of yummy options. I swear to god, I never had such tasty food when I was eating meat. A meal without meat is just as filling as one with it. The plate came with at least 2 pounds of pasta. Did she honestly think I wasn’t getting enough to eat? Oh must eat everything in sight to satiate my poor vegetarian stomach! And her delivery made me violent inside.

I always go into a situation like this with the idea that I will somehow be stealth enough so others won’t notice, that I won’t have to explain things or answer any dumb questions. I never try to make people feel bad for eating meat, I don’t know why they need to say shit about me not eating it. I don’t draw their attention to the fucking disgusting conditions their decomposing flesh came from and what it will do to their digestive tract. Meat is their decision and I’m not preaching to anyone. But vegetarianism is a common and well-established diet. I am fucking tired of going into restaurants (it’s not like I go to fucking steakhouses or anything) and having to order the one shitty vegetarian option on the menu. Hey! just because I don’t eat meat doesn’t mean I want imitation meat! Your veggie burgers suck. I also hate having to make a bunch of changes to my order. Can’t we just have a salad entree without animal on it?

Eating at peoples homes is different. People only serve what they eat and believe their guests will enjoy. I can’t expect everyone to eat what I eat.

I decided to become vegetarian in an honest attempt at leading a life that was true to my ideals. Not so I could draw attention to it, make people feel guilty or be an example. I never once thought it would be so trying. It’s a delicate balance I never realized I would be forced to navigate.

My opinions they run amok, sorry for the length.

[tags]Lake Tahoe, vegetarian, vegetarianism, Hyatt[/tags]

::violin::

I almost cried in my chemistry class tonight. I forced myself to keep it together. Note to self: do not take 9 units, work full time and expect 8 hours of sleep each night. I left in the middle of lecture to take a lap. I managed to convince myself that once I walked back into the room I would understand everything. And you know what? I understood it a lot better when I sat down. The problem with chemistry is that it’s made up. Like Tolkien’s language, it’s documented and everything, but it’s not really real. That’s not science, it’s science fiction.

My teacher is kind of a prick too. He doesn’t do test reviews. He plows through a chapter a week and the examples he does on the board are straight from the book. He’ll answer any questions you want, but you have to understand it well enough to have a question. Argh.

Oh, now for the real reason I logged in. I got my hair done in SD last week and my hairdresser told me that the review I wrote of him on Yelp brought him no less than 5 new customers. People were walking in and asking for Fred the cock sling guy by name! So rad. It’s funny when you write stuff on the internet and it gets back to you. When I write I assume no one reads it. It’s more fun that way. Except I do lose sleep over the possibility of my mom reading this. She has a sense of humor but jeebus.

BTW my moms dog is uh-dor-uble. Oh jeez she’s fucking cute. Even when she’s shitting on the carpet she’s cute. She has a little rubber dumbbell she runs around with. Imagine the smallest dog you possibly can. Now imagine it has a red mini dumbbell hanging out of it’s mouth while it runs manically around your feet. It’s what love is made of.

One more thing. Teebs bought our tickets to Canadia today. This summer, a white Mexican girl goes North. A story that will have you laughing. The most heartfelt movie you will see this year. I dunno if you got that that was supposed to be in the movie announcer voice. But yeah Canadia! I’ve never been. I’ve considered a blind emigration. TBU has advised against this. He says it’s all sweaty glasses of lemonade and fun in the lake during the summer but come winter I will be begging to be back in the USSA. He also says that Canadia may have good PR but this North American Union bullfuckingshit just makes it the Northern US.*

TBU also says that it is my bedtime. Just kidding! I am a big girl. Seriously, though he’s right. But we’ll get free health care for our frostbite.

*I don’t call the US “America.” You know why? Because America is a continent/hemispheric designation. If we can be called America, so can Canadia, or Mexico or any individual country in Central or South America. We are not two fucking continents, people. I hate to be the one to tell you. I also hate people who say they “could care less” for similarly observant reasons. I won’t explain that one to you yet. I’m going to let you stew on it and if you still need an explanation in a couple days, fine.

The US/America thing is not only a nitpicky thing, it’s also a Hispanic political thing. Referring the the US as America subtly invalidates the numerous other countries of the Americas, the majority of which, are Latin. I want to go on about how Latin isn’t even a totally accepted designation either, but I can’t. The Millz walks a tight rope of identity every day. Do we all do this? I can’t help but think other people don’t obsess about their self identity vs. cultural identity vs. social identity. Another day, another post. The Teebs was right, it’s getting close to my bedtime.

The Millz did not make this real quick, guys