Festive October 31, 2008

Hello from Virginia.

Technically “hello” from The Boy’s bed, which just happens to reside in Virgina. Yes it’s 1:00pm and I’m still lounging. Shut up. I had two weeks worth of Grey’s to catch up on. And blogs to read. And..lounging to accomplish.

I’m actually about to get my lazy ass out of the water bed so I can pick up pumpkins for carving, candy for giving, and non candy food so I don’t resort to eating 25 peanut butter cups and calling it “lunch.”

The drive down was simultaneously awful and enlightening. I’m reading, or really, Eckert is reading to me, A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose. So far I’ve learned: 1) Flowers are pretty. 2) Every situation can be good, depending on how you deal with it. 3) This too shall pass, both good and bad. It’s a proverbial mind fuck.

Overall though, it’s reminding me to live in the moment. Experience the now.

And my now includes Halloween preparations!

Enjoy your weekend!

Happy Halloween From Your Friendly Neighborhood Feminist October 29, 2008

I like Halloween.
I like carving pumpkins and thinking up costume ideas. I like the Charlie Brown special.
I like little kids in funny costumes, like my brother who wanted to be a “Scary Carrot” one year.
He didn’t succeed. He was a damn cute carrot. Really, can a three year old in a carrot suit look anything but cute?
I even like candy. Especially that of a chocolate and peanut butter variety.
What I don’t enjoy is that my costume options are limited to “sexy” fill-in-the-blank or witch.
And I know it’s been said many times before, but I’ll say it again:

Halloween Is Not An Excuse To Go Out In Your Underwear.

Unless of course, you want to.

See, me, I’m all about choice.

I’ve been to a lingerie ball. I had a good time. I don’t see anything wrong with hoochin it up one day a year if that’s what rocks your socks. As long as you feel empowered, have at it.

Just remember that it’s the attention that makes you feel empowered. (Warning: WS rant ahead) See, the problem with using the “I wear make up/dress sexy/strip/etc. because I like to do it and it makes me feel empowered,” argument is the fact that we live in a patriarchal society. Perhaps you believe you are participating in these things because YOU want to, but really, when culture is screaming “SEX! BEAUTY! YOU MUST FOLLOW THESE RULES IF YOU HAVE 2 X CHROMOSOMES!” it’s hard to really be sure where our personal desires end and socialization begins.

Maybe you really DO like walking around outside in the dark in 40 degree weather dressed in overpriced slivers of low quality fabric.

Or maybe you just want to be seen as The Hot Girl for a night. Maybe you want to turn heads, because that’s what A Real Woman, in our society, is supposed to do. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to achieve the culturally elevated status of a female. Just as there’s nothing really wrong with wanting to be the culturally elevated picture of masculinity-tough, strong, big, Superman/John Wayne/etc.

The problem is that these culture ideals exist.

/rant.

What I’m concerned about is the fact that there really doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of options for those costume friendly chicas who’d prefer their bits to be covered on fright night.

Really what comes to mind? Nun. Witch. Grandma. Bum. Umm. Well, that about covers it.

As for me, this year I’ll be spending Halloween with The Boy. There’s a possibility we’ll be attending a party. We haven’t decided what we’ll go as, but I’ve been throwing out ideas: Salt and Pepper shakers, Sonny and Cher, House and Cuddy (he wears a lab coat, walks with a cane and pops tic-tacs from a prescription bottle all night, I wear a button down and a pencil skirt and glare at him a lot), imaginary creatures (tooth fairy and Santa clause, tooth fairy and Easter bunny, tooth fairy and a decent political candidate…I just like the idea of being the tooth fairy).

But I do know that whatever we choose to do, if we go the costume route, my bits will be covered.

Because, well, I get cold.

I’ll let you know what we come up with.

Humming the Blues: A Review October 29, 2008

Marge Piercy. Elizabeth Bronte Browning. Edna St. Vincent Milay. Barbara DeCesare. Lauren Carey. These are women whose poetry I love. Some of them you may know. Some of them, well they haven’t yet received the attention they deserve. All of these poets have written words that spoke to me. They’ve all strung together lines so beautiful I’ve had to catch my breath. And now, having read Cass Dalglish’s translation of the first signed literature in the world, “Humming the Blues,” I can now count the poet Enheduanna among them.

Enheduanna was a poet, prince (they didn’t recognize gendered version of words), and priest of Ur (southeast of Baghdad in present-day Iraq) in the year 2350 BCE. She is the first person in history to sign a name to writing, and she is a woman.

Dalglish’s dedication to this project is astounding. Each symbol of Enheduanna’s Sumerian pictographs have multiple meanings, so the transcription process was no easy task. But it’s clear through her reverence toward the work in her introduction and afterword that the translation was a labor of love. Literature and history owe a lot to Dalglish, since it is only through her translation that Enheduanna’s epic story come to life.

Enheduanna’s story is indeed epic, overthrown from her high ranking position by a usurper and left to wander the hills of Sumar her poems detail a life that rivals legend. Throughout her journey she writes to the God (or Goddess, no gendering, remember) Inanna for help her on her journey. Inanna, a deity who the Sumerians believed reigned over heaven and earth is famous for her trip to hell and back again; and as Enheduanna calls on her for guidance through the song of her words, their legends become forever intertwined.

Though the story in of itself is worth picking up Humming the Blues, the poetry of Enheduanna is even more enthralling. When I first read through the book I started dog-earring the poems I loved. It wasn’t long before almost every page was bent back. Lines like, “You’ve got an eye for trouble/Inanna, you’ve braided danger into your hair and you make it look/glamorous—right up to the moment when you open the floodgates of hell” made me sit back in my chair. The pure feminine power of those lines gave me chills. And even though I’m not making my way to hell and back again, I can relate to Enheduanna’s words.

That is, in essence, the magic of poetry. One beautiful line can mean a thousand different things depending on the reader. Label it reader response, but the lines “But no one bet the drums/for you in that other world; no one knew your song there; no one spoke/of the abundance of your charm,” reminds me of every time in my life I’ve felt like an outcast.

Enheduanna’s words can even be applied to the election! (Ok, just come with me on this.)
This was a land of plenty/a place full of promise, but who knows what to do know? Who’s to say/ what’s coming next?

Ok, so maybe that one’s a stretch, but the point I’m trying to make is that Enheduanna’s poetry is still very relevant. It’s timeless. It’s gorgeous. And it is historically significant. If that’s not enough to make you want to purchase a copy, I’ll leave you with this line, “I was born to scale the mountain of desire.”

So was I Enheduanna.

“Humming the Blues” by Cass Dalglish is available from Calyx Books at www.calyxpress.org.
Thank you to Calyx for allowing me to review this stunning work.

5th Grade Cynic October 28, 2008

Upon watching a psa about the public library system, my ten year old brother scoffed,

“I bet it’s not really free, they just say that. Nothing’s really free.”

After I picked myself up off the floor I corrected him.
“Actually, the library IS free. It doesn’t cost anything to get a card or sign out materials.”

He looked so surprised; I think my heart broke a little.

The library was a large part of my younger years. I checked out books all the time. Sometimes my mom would drive me to the big city library that had a huge children’s section. I’d sign out a stack at time. Now I’m rediscovering the library. I used it a lot last year when I was involved in my 50 books in a year project, and now I’m returning again to help me past the time on my drives to Virginia.

This weekend I’ll be reading “A New Earth,” and “A Million Little Pieces,” it’s a Lady O-to-the-Prah book club weekend!

This week, visit your local library. And if you can, take a kid.

Show them there are plenty of good things in life that are still free.

Too Good October 27, 2008

The Boy: In 3rd grade the school district had budget cuts, we weren’t supposed to have a field trip.
But our teacher wanted to take us on one anyway. So we went on a field trip….to the high school. The high school cafeteria. I had orange juice. It was a rockin time.

A Crazy Weekend With The Family October 27, 2008

This weekend was full of family fun time. As you know, my parents received word of my…ah…future relationship plans (I’m engaged to be engaged? Maybe? Sorta? I’m not sure what to call it), and then my father tried to give The Boy a stroke.

What I didn’t tell you about was my father’s midlife crisis purchase and the craziness of a Sweet Sixteen surprise party.

Let’s start with my daddio.

He decided he wanted a mustang. A red, leather interior, convertible mustang that screams “I’M GETTING OLD AND I’M DESPERATELY TRYING TO STAY YOUNG AND COOL! LOOK AT MY RIDE, YO!”

Never mind that my father is a big man and the car, well, is not.

“I fit fine,” he said, “especially when the top is down.” Greeeaat thinking dad.

You live in NEPA.

Convertible season is about 5 seconds long.

But, who am I to argue. (Plus, it’s a cool car, and I get to steal it sometimes!)

Anyway the pick-up-the-midlife-crisis-car adventure was fun. The people he purchased it off of were strange. We weren’t allowed in the house, because apparently there was “stuff everywhere.”

Lady, I don’t care if a bomb went off in your living room, if your bathroom is functional, let me the hell in! (It was a LOONG ride.)

Unfortunately my pea-sized bladder and I had to wait until we went to the title transfer place before a bathroom was acquired.

<tangent> I don’t consider myself Emily Post, but more often than not I’m shocked by the poor manners of people when guests are involved. My parents drilled into me that if anyone comes by for any reason, you offer food, drink and a bathroom. You do this until that person has been to your house a half dozen times and should now know where that stuff is located. I’m also a big believer in hostess gifts (often dessert, since I like baking) and thank you cards. Am I the only one?!</tangent>

My father showed off his new baby to my brothers that night, and proceeded to have the cops called on him for revving the engine and drag racing down our road. Sigh.

The next night was my brother’s sweet sixteen surprise party. There were about a dozen teenage boys in my house, the testosterone was overpowering.

At one point I was shocked to realize that my mom had ordered 4 pizzas in addition to the 12 dozen wings, vat of chili, caramel apples, cake, brownies, chips and other snacky things we had prepared. Then I remembered that we had a dozen teenage boys in the house. By the time I left there were about 2 dozen wings and half a pizza remaining. Where does it go?! And how the hell does my brother still have abs like Adonis?! Not fair.

My favorite part of the night was playing running charades with the guys. If you’re not familiar with the twist of the classic game, (or if you’re not a Mad About You fan, since we totally stole it from one of those episodes) I’ll give you the lowdown.

You need two teams of players and a ref. Each team gets a card that states the order of the categories (book, movie, tv show, song, food, etc). The ref has the actual to-be-preformed clues. Each team is stationed in a different room, with the ref in the middle. A member of each team gets the first clue from the ref, runs back to their group and has to charade it out until one of their team members gets the answer. Then the guesser runs back to the ref, tells them the answer and moves on to the next category. The first team to finish all the categories first wins.

The guys were unimpressed with the idea at first, charades as you know, is SOO UNCOOL. But, once they realized there was a competition involved, they got really into it. They actually decided to make up their own cards and competed on the time it took the other team to get through the clues. My favorite ones? Watching a kid try to get someone to guess “Casablanca” by pointing to a white shirt and a house. Seeing the look on their face when I got “the secret life of bees” in about 10 seconds. Watching one kid kiss his mom in an effort to perform “I kissed a girl.”

Running charades is my favorite party game.

Another highlight, while playing Taboo one kid said, “You can have a ___dream!”

The word he was trying to get his teammates to guess?

Wet, of course.

Texting Troublemaker October 26, 2008

Remember when I said that my dad is very good at holding my grudges for me?

Well, he’s also really good at doing his “fatherly duty” of messing with my boyfriends.

On Friday, as I attempted to sleep the evening away in preparation for the night shift, my father and brother were texting my boyfriend.

What were they texting? LIES! Pure lies! They swore to him I was crying and that my father was pissed at him. They told him he was in for it. They made the poor guy worried to the point where he had to call my MOM to find out why the hell I was so upset.

And people wondered why I was single for so long.

My family is crazy. They torture prospective/current boyfriends. They intimidate non-perspective boyfriends (upon their first meeting, my father told The Philosopher to “un-ass yourself from my wall,” or in layman’s terms “sit the hell down,”). They have given tours of the gun safes (yes, plural) and interesting nicknames (Mr. Wonderful, The Penguin Guy) to previous boys. Like trolls guarding bridges, they have to set up tests to “figure them out,” and allow passage to Land of Shaba.

Luckily my Mom isn’t so mean. When The Boy called her in frenzied she told him point blank that the men in my household are vile creatures who enjoy pulling his chain.

She suggested he give it right back to them, tenfold.

We’re currently planning our revenge, which may or may not involve hot glue and forklift

Of Shoes and Ships and Ceiling Wax, Cabbages and Kings October 24, 2008

Talking to my parents about anything of importance reminds me of the above line made famous in Alice and Wonderland.

We seem to need to insert our VIC-(very important conversation) into the regular mundane “how’s your father” interactions. I never seem to have their full attention, and if I were to sit them down in the “we need to talk” way, I fear they’ll think I’m a)pregnant, or 2)wanted by the mob for faulty deals and debt from playin the ponies.

Or something.

Anyway, it’s hard to find a way to approach important discussions, even when the subject matter is happy.

Like, say, telling them The Boy wants to marry me.

Try working that one in over coffee.

Dad: I need to get another crock pot for the chili.
Mom:You can use ice cream buckets.
Shaba:So, The Boy told his parents he wants to marry me.
Dad:Oh? Cool. Does he like chili?
Mom: The buckets are under the sink.

Ok, so it wasn’t really like that, but it was close.

I guess I just expected, well not expected. I expected the above, I know these people, obviously. I guess I just wanted to be asked questions. I wanted to share our plans and my happiness without feeling like I was gushing like a 7th grade school girl. I think I keep hoping my parents will live up to the image of them I’ve created. Like this tiny sentence of possibility would elicit Father of The Bride-movie style excitment. Like with one announcement my  mom would turn from the little league player agent to the woman obsessed with color schemes and flower arrangements. She’s. Just. Not.

And yes I feel like things will change when, you know, we actually get engaged. I just hoped they’d share a little more in my excitement of the anticipation. And I know, partialy they’re probably thinking “umm hummm, riiighhhhtt. You guys have been dating less than a year. We’ll just see how this pans out before we get too excited,” and partially they’re probably all, “wow, we’re old. Our first born wants to get married? Our only daughter is going to move far away for school/work AND get married? Sad face.”

Which I completely understand, but it does make me a little sad. And yes, I’ll be talking to them more about it, our plans, timelines, etc., and hopefully they’ll get more used to the idea.

To their credit my dad did tell me that when I get married and move to Virginia I’m taking my Elk antlers with me. (This will not happen. They are perfectly fine in my parent’s house. And, really, what the hell would I do with them?!) So it’s not like they’re upset or anything. They “trust” my “judgement,” and they say The Boy is “very nice,” and they like that he “has a job and a hobbie.” My father said he hopes he’s a Republican, but my dad is delusional and thinks I should email Sarah Palin and start up a friendship. My mother chimed in, “Your daughter isn’t even a Republican.” And yet, the republican emails still fill my inbox in hopes that I’ll “smarten up” from my “liberal hooey.”

He’s like those people who refuse to believe Elvis is dead.

Anyway, that’s all I have for this Friday. Enjoy your weekend!

Material Girl October 23, 2008

I like shopping.
This is probably the understatement of the century. However I also like having money in my bank account so I’ve been taking some measure to try and curtail my spending. I decided to put the credit cards away and stick to a cash only system for a while. I’ve been doing well so far (well, technically I have 2 dollars in my wallet right now, but I don’t foresee any spending between now and Monday so I mark it down as a Win).

Due to this new non-plastic purchasing plan I’ve had to force myself to not buy “things.”

Like the slanket.

(Dammit Jamie! I want one too!)

Or a new coat.

Or Ani Difranco tickets.

Or the Sex and the City Movie (I know! Travesty that it has taken me so long!

Or shoes. (This pains me the most)

Or a LIT. (This may be a tie with shoes)

Or a slew of other items that tickle my fancy on a daily basis. And it’s ok, really.  I know if I still want them later, I’ll buy them. Once I get back on my financial feet (a 700ish dollar spring break bill knocked my finances to their hypothetical knees), I’ll be less stressed out.

And more able to replace that Immaculate Collection CD I can’t seem to find.

Caution: If You Get Motion Sickness, Don’t Watch My Vlog October 22, 2008

Check out that Semi-anonymous Vlogging action!

Sorry for the quality, I don’t have a video camera so it was completely recorded by my MacBook, backwards, without my seeing what the hell I was taping.

Also, Youtube? Why so long on the upload?

Hope you liked my fridge.

(and yes, I sound like Minnie Mouse)