Up .... down... wwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Tuesday, March 30 the roller coaster...


When I arrived at work, the first thing I did was yet again bail out the ungrateful and disrespectful CEO.  And so the car started to ascend the tracks of the hill.

[Please note here that I love my job.  I would stay here and continue to work as long as they would have me except I no longer respect or believe in the CEO and when you work for less than you're worth, put in more hours than are in a calendar day, and have sacrificed more than is humanly known to me or them that means you have to leave.]

Any way, my years of experience clicked in and I organized a major event for her and our organization in less than thirty minutes.  I thought of almost everything from email notifications to confetti to duct tape.  If I had not done it, she would have been embarassed and it could have had lasting PUBLIC repercussions through which I fear she would have lived and found a scapegoat~ probably me.  Instead, I am the known heroine of the day.  Oh, she nor the COO may admit it because to do so would cause them to admit so much more than just what is going to happen Thursday, but that is okay.  I know and I know they know.

After that, I had a couple of uneventful meetings.  I thought the coaster car was going to stall.  I then sat back at my desk to read two emails: one, based a lot on my expertise...

[I have been beating myself up a lot lately because, in part due to external criticism, I am in the same job as I was 7 years ago and my work ethic is almost non-existent, but I am coming to believe that while I create and sabotage solely at my doing, I do need some sort of exterior recognition for my more-than-mortal attempts at keeping a program alive that by any one who even looks in for one minute, steps back and say, "how the hell do you do all of that?" 

That being said, I feel the need to be a little braggy lately.]

... the University of Michigan has been asked to submit a proposal for research funding (*yay*); two, an abstract of which I am the co-author was selected to be presented at an international conference in July.  The abstract highlights a component in a program I co-designed.

I then got to display some mad skills to interns that I thought long ago rusted.

Before the outing with the interns, I called the significant other to brag about my day.  He congratulated me, but then felt the need to "match" my good news with word that he was buying two bikes off of ebay for him and his daughter.  He was genuinely happy for me.  I know that.  This will be a problem for us as we move along our path together: I have the potential for more public successes than he.  This is mainly because I want public success and because I believe I am capable of it.  He does not like himself as much as I like myself or even as much as I like him.  When I talked to him later in the evening, he again congratulated me as well as when he tried to get out of hanging out Wednesday night (we're spending the holiday weekend together), I reminded him that I deserved "congratulations sex."  He agreed.  [As long as I am direct with my needs and considerate of his, I think we will find the balance between my wanting to be a big fish in a moderately sized pond and his wanting to be the clown fish in a small, intimate but gorgeous pond.]

Those were the clicks of the roller coaster car climbing that giant hill of my happy day.  The car arched the hump and then started to decline...

I was told by Michigan's Cesar Milan (his description, but others agree) that my dog is the meanest dog with whom he has ever worked.  I can not believe it is true, but still to hear it was difficult.  He did finally relent and say that my dog is also smart and is adopting his new behaviors quickly.  This was not said without my hearing that still my dog does not like authority.  Who does? 

[Look at him.  Does he seem like he could be meaner than pit bulls who were forced to fight????]

I have a friend who just won a battle with her ex over in their seven year custody war, but she continues to lose sight that she may be losing the war with her child as she continues to make short-sided and selfish decisions.  This saddens me.  I have spoken up at the risk of losing our friendship, but she doesn't hear me.  I have to ask myself now how much longer can I respect her and like her as a person, much less as my friend.

I am a reformed nail biter.  My nails, however, either are permanently damaged from years of biting or just genetically weak.  During my late 20s through my mid-30s I got acrylic nails.  Last year, due to money and depression, I took of the acrylics and swore that I would live a healthier life and stop putting toxins on my nails.  It took a year and pharmacist recommended Biotin, but my nails finally were taking shape and growing, but they grow for six weeks or so then break all to hell.  This happened today.  I know this is frivolous, but I wear lots and lots of rings and ugly nails take away my joy at looking at my hands.

I still have two reports I have to do before I go home... and yet, I am writing this.

I am on vacation starting Thursday.  I looked at the weather and it is supposed to rain starting Monday and all that week.  Sure, you say that I will have Thursday through Sunday but I will be in a car Friday and Sunday and in the interim in another state.

Okay so as you can see, the down hill turned out not to be so bad and did not overshadow the joy of the climb of my self-worth from earlier in the day.

I just have to make sure that the up swing of the day carries me to do what I need to do during my vacation and get things done so I can make sure my roller coaster always has only small down hills.

Until the next ride...

Standing Up For Feminism in all Types of Clothing

I wrote the following in response to the following article at Bust Magazine:  Sexually Exploit Yourself to Help Stop Sex Trafficking .

As mostly aware feminists, we do ourselves, those more aware, and especially those less aware a disservice with our outward adoption of supposedly male-defined beauty standards but inward rejection of male-defining.



I too wear make-up (I like the theatrics that we can change our appearance), wear dresses/ skirts (they are more comfortable than pants, most days), wear high heels (I truly believe I was supposed to be 6'0" and being 5'10" is just not good enough), and I date men. The latter is the hardest to reconcile, but that is for another post.


In the end, however, all the six year old girl who we pass on the street sees is that we look like what she sees Barbie selling her. She doesn't get to see all of our well thought out logic on comfort and that the vast majority of humanity consider "dresses" unisex, it is just Western ideals that limits wearing them to the female of our species. She knows none of this, especially, when the skirt is cute and short. SO what can we do? When we talk to her, when we pass her, somehow she has to know that it is NOT about how you look on the outside it is about how we let people treat us and we have to be treated with respect and valued, which are the opposite of objectified and exploited.


She gets to wear the cute short skirt, but she HAS to stand up to the catcalling a$$hole who objectifies her and she has to walk away from the man who says that she is too pretty to be walking and should be being chauffeured (true way that pimps lure victims). She is worth more than their praise, their desire, and their power. She deserves more.


The young women who are going to be shaking what their mommas gave them for charity and for sex appeal, should be admonished for that because flaunting their choice in the name of those who have no choice is insulting to the women they claim to support. Victims of Trafficking would not want to watch them dance; they would want to know that people are earnestly working to end their slavery.


The young women of the sorority also need, however, to be seen as victims. They may get to eat where they want, keep the money they earn, and not live in fear of mortal retribution if they do not sell their bodies, BUT they are exploited. There will be men profiting from their mentalities of sex sells, especially exaggerated hyper feminine borderline lesbian sex. It may not be the night of the benefit nor may it be those particular young women, but there will be others.


So to the writer of this blog, I say, go to the event, pass out literature to the audience (know it will be discarded by 95% of the people), prey on the hosts wanting to feel good and go do a talk on Trafficking (or find someone in your community who can) at their sorority house (make sure the person can tie their event in, not to berate their good intentions, but to further educate them), and do it in whatever clothes in which you feel comfortable.


Remember, also, please, that not wearing skirts, heels, make-up also means that we live by patriarchal constraints because feminists are supposed to be "masculine," because using voice to enact change is only for men... at least that is what they would have us also believe.


Fight the good fight, sisters!

Sunday #1

I am left to wonder is it still living if one is drugged to a point that his/ her personality is all but a memory~ the light that is uniquely yours blown out by chemical after chemical? does the answer change if the individual is old or young? physically healthy or impaired? human or animal? what is living?

My dog has bitten people.  He for lack of better words is a victim.  He was abused as a puppy and after I adopted him and we were on a walk, he was attacked several times.  For lack of a better term, I say he has PTSD. 

Drugs may be an option, but how will I know if I can trust him.  He took medicine before and still bit people while medicated.

Will he still be the same dog?  Will he still enjoy running so much you can see him smile?  How will I know?  And then would it be too late?

I am distraught.