Stuff

I was POSITIVE I posted last week, but I guess I didn't.

So, we're moving on Saturday and I'm excited as hell.

My computer is giving me fits of rage and it's everything I can muster some days not to walk it down and just toss it in the Detroit River.

A few days ago a misogynist with MRA leanings killed 6 people because women wouldn't fuck him, as was his right.

Sorry could anyone remind me of the last time a woman committed mass murder in the name of feminism?
— Lou (@Msloulou77) May 26, 2014

Tell me misogyny is no longer a problem. Tell women we have no reason to fear for our lives. I dare you. pic.twitter.com/aJ6DLPcq4U #YesAllWomen
— Becky (@Tikken) May 25, 2014

teach your kids that normal is a lie, but that human never is.
— jay, determinator (@jaythenerdkid) May 26, 2014

PSA for #YesAllMen: You are not entitled to any woman's attention, affection, body, sex, or relationship.
— bossy (@BhasChat) May 26, 2014

And that's all I have to say about that.

Deep Thoughts

I'm sitting here in my office chair at folding table in what should be my dining room if I owned a table and suite of chairs that were purpose built for the act of dining.

In what should have been the living room Joe has built himself a fortress of maths and algorithms and folding banquet tables from Target. He has gone to the library to take out three books that he will read during his two week break before the start of his fall semester.

I've got a shot of bourbon chilling with three ice cubes in a Old Fashioned glass I got from the Dollar Tree shortly after we moved in. I'm rationing the remainder of this bottle of Wild Turkey 101 because you can't get it in Canada at all, and I'm not sure my next trip to the US of longer than 48 hours is going to have the budget to replace it.

But I'm hopeful.

Except for the little desk lamp that Joe left on before he left, it's mostly dark. I am just sipping my bourbon and trying to figure out where I stand on a whole bunch of issues that have just come to light.

There's a big long story to this, wherein my boss is both the victim and the accused. I understand why it happens, but I don't think that being abused is an excuse for becoming an abuser. I'm not comfortable in my own skin anymore, mostly because I've decided what I want to do, what I should do that's right for me, and I'm being held back, waiting for more information and permission. And money.

It's always about the money.

I had a big long post here about what's going on, but it really doesn't matter in the specific. In the general, I'm really unhappy with just about everything. Everytime I have a glimmer of hope that things are going to be better, it gets trampled, postponed, cancelled, or otherwise made "not a priority" by someone in power.

I'm tired. The bourbon worked.

Goodnight.

Trigger Warning

Today, a friend posted a status update about the wrongness of a feminist infographic (like this one, though I don't know that it was the exact one he was talking about) that stated Ada Lovelace invented the computer, and Hedy Lamarr invented Bluetooth (also wi-fi).

These statements are factually untrue, yet both women made contributions toward what eventually became computers and Bluetooth (and wi-fi).

A woman, angry at feminists for being too lazy to explain the facts behind these claims, decided to make it about feminists wanting to keep up a phony narrative. Someone else argued that it was probably because the real answers were longer, and more science-y, than would fit their narrative (or their truncated infographic).

Because of this (rather dumb) shorthand, this woman decreed:

"and this is why modern feminists need to be round up and shot squarely in the forehead."

At the risk of being called "overly-sensitive" or any other bullshit derogatory you can manage to associate with being a feminist, I said something. And it started with, "fuck you."

I'm tired of invoking the threat of violence against women, and I find it particularly loathsome coming from a woman.

And the way she worded it... well, it reminded me of this:

He began his attack by entering a classroom at the university, where he separated the male and female students. After claiming that he was "fighting feminism", he shot all nine women in the room, killing six. He then moved through corridors, the cafeteria, and another classroom, specifically targeting women to shoot. Overall, he killed fourteen women and injured ten other women and four men in just under twenty minutes before turning the gun on himself.

That happened when I was 15 years old. I have called myself a feminist since that day. Women were round up and shot for being feminist, even though their only feminist "crime" was enrolling in engineering school. Almost all of the dead and injured women did not identify as feminist. They just wanted to go to school.

As I have come to read more and more feminist scholarship by white women studying intersectionality, women of colour and queer and trans* feminists, I have made it my duty in life to speak out more, to defend the label more, and to let everyone know that advocating violence against ANYONE is not cool.

I fail, a lot. There are some times, and some days, where I would love to give the Women-hating-Republican-who-knows-what's-best-for-vaginas-Of-The-Day a good swift kick in the scrotum. But I don't kick anyone. And I rarely say it out loud. And that's the best I can do, until I find some further Zen-like state. I'm not actually looking for that state, so I don't see that happening.

When I said, as politely as I could at this point, that I was not interested in associating myself with someone who advocates violence against women, she called me some names (including "screeching hole"), said that I was using her statements about violence to not face the real issue [which is feminists lie to justify their continued existence (I think?)]. Then she posted a photo of a woman with her fingers in her ears and eyes closed in the "I'm not listening" pose.

So it comes down to this.

1. I think that over-stating the achievements of women to maintain a "women are awesome" narrative is wrong. Absolutely.

2. I think that rounding up anyone and shooting them in the forehead for ANY reason, including treason and wearing Crocs, is wrong. Absolutely.

3. I think that I have a responsibility to try to be an ally to women, and I fail at it all the time when confronted by women who don't want me as an ally. Call it internalized misogyny or just being a contrarian- but whatever it is I decided that moving on is better than getting into an internet pissing match.

Feminism is a choice to recognize the full humanity of all people. Fuck gender bullshit. Fuck violence. Fuck sexual politics. Fuck rape culture. Fuck unexamined white privilege.

Fuck hate.

A group of people with MS walk into a bar...

I've belonged to two MS groups on Facebook (I remain a member in only one), and probably a half a dozen other sites or forums at one point or another. On Facebook I've had some problems with being friended by women who think it's great that we both have MS and then being defriended shortly after they see the stuff I post to my wall. I post a lot of stuff about marriage equality, trans* equality, anti-bullying, anti-racism, atheist organizations, feminism, intersectionality, and rape culture. I also swear a FUCK of a lot.

This is apparently a problem.

It probably doesn't help that almost NEVER a happy person. I choose not to waste my energy seeking an ideal I've only been able to obtain in 10 to 30 second increments. I get the orgasm, I drink the cocktail, and/or I find the perfect thing, it's perfect for a moment, then it's done, and so is being happy for that day. I am content most days, but this constant drive to "Happy" is just one of those insane perfectionist, crazy making, unachievable ideals.

Fuck that shit.

That worldview don't go over so well with the chronically ill. I have yet to see the benefits of trying to be fucking happy when it comes to curing any of my MS symptoms. I try to remain positive around my friends and loved ones, if only to make sure that I am not alienating myself from them.

But the biggest thing I've learned in the past three years is that sometimes the only thing I've got in common with a person who has MS is the fact we both have MS. That's not enough to build a friendship around. At least for me.

Saying what I need to say.

Basically, here's where I'm at these days:

1. I have MS, and that fact colours every thought, decision, choice, and option I have in my life.
2. I am feminist. Full stop, without apology, and with as little explanation as possible.
3. I am an organized administrator; which is the least respected, appreciated, and rewarded of all the skilled labour sectors to be in.

Because I have MS, I have limits on what I am physically and mentally able to do. I have figured out work-arounds for almost all of the life situations I find myself in, and 99% of the time I am able to fully function in an abled world. The prospect of almost certain permanent, life altering disability hangs over my head like the blade of guillotine ready to end my life as I know it. I have to be real about my future and, barring some kind of medical breakthrough in the next 10 years, I will almost certainly be unable to work, support myself, or be a contributing partner in my marriage. In ten or 15 years I will be a burden to society, yet I will likely live another 35 or 40 years.

Because I'm feminist, this bothers the fuck out of me. I distinguish between my marriage and my relationship with my husband. I entered into my relationship as an equal partner who loved (and loves) him incredibly. I don't think MS has changed that emotional and loving connection all that much. However, I entered into my marriage as an equal in a legal partnership to allow the two of us to do greater things by sharing resources and expertise. Having MS means that I am pouring all of my current resources and expertise into educating and training for my husband, because he's going to have to make the big bucks over the long term. I am never going to be in the position to make my own life, set my own terms, realize financial independence, or get the degree that will allow me to be taken seriously professionally.

Because I am a career administrator, I have gone 48 weeks unable to find a somewhat secure, non-exploitive, respectful, and progressive employer where my skills are needed and appreciated. Women, especially white women, who get into "clerical" work are expected to use that role as a springboard to something else, and be the doting and professional mother of two children while they're springing. I should have a degree in *something* and do admin for a (almost always) white, straight, cis-male, CEO while I work on an MBA that will allow me to access the halls of corporate power.

That's what a woman in my position as a white, cis-gendered, middle-class born, het-married, woman should be doing. To not want that is to somehow sell-out my gender. To not exercise my privilege is a waste of good estrogen, apparently. Yet, I have no designs on capitalist, corporatist power.

I just want to help people do their best work. That's all I have ever wanted to do for a living.
I work in administration because I am good at it and I think I offer good value to my employer, but women like me are the most expendable in the capitalist world. We're the first ones to go during economic downturns, we're the last people to be hired back when things start looking up, and we're expected to take less and less money with each successive round of lay-offs and rehires.

As an example, my first admin job in the early 90s paid $8 per hour. Today, 20 years later, I can find jobs doing exactly what I did in my entry level position that pay $11 per hour. That's $3 an hour in 20 years. I made $1.65 an hour more than minimum wage back then. That job now pays just $0.75 over minimum wage. If I want to make something close to a living, middle class wage in administration, I need to get a degree, and an MBA, and spearhead some sort of "corporate mission" that will add zeroes to the bottom-line and exploit a desperate workforce. I don't have the time, ability, money, ambition, or interest in doing that.

So, as a person with MS, who wants to be an equal partner, and has job skills and experience that are now subject to the law of diminishing returns, I really don't see what the point of my life is any more. I wish I could change the world, but I don't know how. I don't know how the world would take me seriously, given I have no credibility as a scholar, researcher, business person, or educated activist. Forgive me if I am not out there trying to save the world from sexist, racist, homophobic, fat-shaming, transphobic, ableist, slut-shaming, victim-blaming, theist, capitalist, fascist agendas. It's really hard to take to the streets when you're trying to figure out where the rent is coming from this month, or where food is going to come from if you make the rent, or making a choice between bus fare to a job interview or bus fare to the doctor because you can't afford to do both this week.

Forgive me when I say that I just can't keep up. I want to, but I don't know how.

Being a Dick in Public

I fat shamed someone today.

I had my reasons for wanting this person to feel bad; mainly that once upon a time this person made me feel bad, and I wanted them to feel bad about themselves in the exact same way.

But that's not cool. No matter what my reasons were, fat shaming is not cool. No matter that I didn't even think of it as fat shaming at the time, fat shaming is still not cool.

I was a dick in public. That's not cool.

I had no right to shame someone for their body. It was not right. I really do know better than that.

I will do better.

***

I sometimes think that all the therapy I paid for and the Provinces of Ontario and BC paid for didn't work as well as I would have liked.

Hockey Day In Canada has brought up a whole lot of unpleasant memories and recollections that I thought I had dealt with and taken care of. I guess I need to look at that stuff again.

Or not. Maybe it's best to just let sleeping dogs lie.

Not sure where this is going...

I have been there, hating women because of the "girl way" they act.

I have also been there, being hated because I didn't act like a "good girl" or a "nice girl" or what that person thought a feminist should act like.

Gender norms fuck us all over.

Some days I wear lipstick, watch hockey and talk on the phone.

Other days I like football, shoe shopping and shooting guns.

Some days I'm overtly intelligent, sexual and neurotic. Other days I'm forgetful, quiet and self-assured.

All of these are the days I "act like a woman". I act like a woman because I am biologically and gender presentationally an adult female who doesn't know any other way to act than like a woman.

I don't want to perpetrate misogyny. The world is sexist and misogynist enough that I don't have to be part of it. I don't have to like what someone acts like, but I can also realize that maybe that woman doesn't know she has other options. Maybe she doesn't know why she makes bad choices. Maybe she doesn't know that the socialization of gender norms begins the second a parent is told "what it is" after a child is born, and maybe they don't know the bulk of that socialization is bullshit.

I really don't know where I am going with this... I just saw this quote this morning and it reminded me of how I used to treat women different. It reminded me how I used to perpetuate my own misogyny. I reminded me that I stopped hating myself right around the same time I stopped seeing other woman as a threat to my desires.

It reminded me that even though we are 51% of the population, we're still considered a "special interest group" who needs to be placated, pandered to and infantilized instead of being considered what we are - the majority. Part of the reason that this still goes on is that women are hating women with the same kind of gender socialization as men are. I can't be part of it. I can't do it and not hate myself.


I still don't know why I wrote this.