So I saw Twilight today. I pretty much figured I would; as much as the book annoyed me (or the half of it that I read) this was a movie about vampires and eternal love, and I can't not go to that. It wasn't perfect, but I enjoyed it significantly more than I thought I would. My biggest beef was actually the makeup job on Edward Cullen--that's the vampire lover all the girls are mooning over. Yes, he's supposed to be pasty white and beautiful, but I don't think that has to translate into red, red lipstick and heavy eye makeup. I mean, can't a man be beautiful without looking feminine? I think the answer to that is yes. And not even that so-called feminine beauty is a bad thing, Johnny Depp comes to mind, but the makeup can't be obvious--it needs to look natural. I think that's my problem; his face was unnatural. Yes, I'm aware he's a vampire, a state which by definition is slightly unnatural, but don't quibble with me over this. Lipstick is rarely a good thing a man.

Regardless of all of that, however, if ever there was a topic that deserved a top ten list, this is it. I don't normally do two in a row like this, but vampires conquer all. You thought it was love--silly you.

Top Ten Things That Are Only Hot When Said/Performed/Or Otherwise Connected With A Vampire

10. Clothing with lace anywhere on it

It's time to level: lace is not hot. It's frilly; it's Victorian--it's hopelessly itchy. Nobody wants to hug a man in lace, be saved by a man in lace, or even have sexual thoughts about a man in lace. And yet, when worn by a vampire, suddenly the frilly shirt is completely acceptable. I can't explain why; it defies all known laws of science, but the evidence is there. The ability to look utterly masculine in frilly shirts is obviously the vampire's lesser known superpower.

9. Extreme mood changes

Nobody likes someone whose mood changes faster than weather in the midwest. He's smiling at you, suddenly his rage is nearly uncontrollable, but now he's sulky--it's okay he loves you more than life itself and is wants to make sweet, sweet love...now he's crying. Unexplainable mood swings are decidedly unhot. You stick moodiness on a guy with fangs, though; it's all just part and parcel with his tortured soul.

8. Non-stop brooding

Like the above mood swings someone that rarely smiles because he is constantly brooding inevitably looses his mystery when the brooding pushes him from deep and thoughtful into whiny and annoying. He's sullen and serious, why--because he's constantly thinking such deep and ponderous thoughts? Nobody feels that much weight unless...he's a vampire. Then we have constant inner battle of need for blood and need to be a good man all topped off with a healthy dose of saving the world or some equivalent. This behavior is also acceptable in Batman.

7. Remarking on his inability to control himself around you and/or how he cannot lose control with you

Generally when a guy says I can't control myself around you, or I must maintain control for your safety I take a hike. Why? Because a need to kiss me senseless and overwhelming love is sexy, but I've got to maintain control so I don't eat you (literally) is not. Old dude is a vampire, though, and his inability to resist your scent/aura/blood whatever suddenly makes for incredible sexual tension. Cannibals unhot--Vampires hot. There is no logic or emotional health to these truths.

6. Engaging in sexual relationships with significantly age inappropriate partners

You meet an older guy that falls in love with girls fifty, sixty, a hundred years his junior and it's hard to believe it's true love. I've seen those couples on the Strip--there's nothing fairytale about them, I promise. But when you're eternal youth keeps you somewhere between 17 and 35 forever well...isn't everyone too young for you then? So what if you're 90 and she's 17, you're a vampire!

5. Excessive sniffing or commentary on one's smell

This one's tricky because smell can be a very hot thing between two people. Often if you like the way someone smells it's a great indicator of attraction. But a person sniffing you, especially prior to hello is rarely comforting or engaging. Also, when hanging with a man I don't know how to reply when he is constantly remarking on how he loves my "scent." Throws me a bit. Illogically, when his sniffing is tied to a burning desire to suck my blood I'm suddenly okay with it. This one is also acceptable with werewolves.

4. Breaking into your bedroom to watch you sleep

This is the behavior of a stalker. When it's Dracula, or Angel, or Edward we call it sexy. Don't ask me why.

3. Constant staring

Mr. Darcy got away with it in Pride and Prejudice. Every other time I've seen it happen the situation ended badly. Starring denotes obsession. Obsession denotes crazy. Crazy obsession becomes not only tolerable, but desirable when presented by someone with eternal life and a desire to eat me. Let's hope none of my friends ever need me to save them from a vampire. He stares at me at and I'm toast.

2. Refusal to acknowledge his love for you and/or to let you close

When someone obviously loves you, wants you, needs you, blah blah blah, I find I am very inconsiderate of the drama that must be conquered for him to proclaim that love. I know; I have no soul. Basically, though, my thoughts are this: are you a vampire? No? Suck it up and ask the girl out--you'll get over it if she says no. If you're a vampire, well then, you can't just have a normal relationship so things become more complicated--totally understandable. If one is already in a relationship and can't open up to one's partner I am again unsympathetic--yes, I'm a cold, cold woman we know this--and have little more than a get over it for the poor sod whose been hurt so badly in the past. But if you're a vampire and somehow you did end up with a human date you might not have told them everything, or maybe you've got to keep them at a distance for some vampirey reason. Mostly what I'm saying here is if there's going to be excessive Shakespearean relationship drama somebody better be a gosh darn vampire or there's really no excuse.

1. Eternal love at the cost of your humanity

I may not have a soul, but I don't give up my humanity for just anyone. I know there are girls that fall in love with killers on death row through the mail, and women that seek out men who'll treat them badly, but if he's going to brood, sniff me, stare at me, make me cry, push me away, pull me close, cut me off, endanger me, want to eat me, and wear lace he better be a vampire. It's not that I want to date a bad boy, exactly, but if I date him I want eternal love to be part of the equation. There needs to be a serious pay off for all that drama.

So, as with all rules, there are minor exceptions to some of these behaviors (Batman, werewolves) but in general the above are only acceptable when the lover performing them is a vampire. I spoke of them in terms of a man because I'm a heterosexual female, but gentlemen, I think these are good rules for women as well. Does anyone want to date a person that breaks into their bedroom to watch them sleep unless that person is a vampire? I think not. And if you do, you deserve whatever crazy comes your way.

It's Thanksgiving! It occurred to me that everyone else was doing "grateful" lists so I should really be no different. I'm nothing if not a follower.

The Top Ten Things I'm Grateful For (notice I didn't say most grateful or anything silly like that--you're most grateful for any number of things depending on your mood i.e. in a desert you're most grateful for water, shade, and savior. In the middle of the ocean water doesn't really factor in. See what I mean?)

Top Ten Thanks

10. Electric Blankets

You won't really understand this one unless you know my parents house. There is no heat upstairs (or in some rooms downstairs) and so many years of my mother's menopause needing it to be cold has created a sort of heat vacuum. So when I come home, especially now that I've been sissified by the desert, I just accept that my hands and feet will be cold. That's where the electric blanket comes in. It's warm, it's cuddly, it makes my body feel all good and comforted. It's kind of like a lover that doesn't take up the bed or steal your covers since, you know, it is the cover.

9. T.V. on D.V.D.

I cannot begin to express how thankful I am for T.V. on DVD. Best invention EVER. Ever. Really. 24 episodes (approximately) of my favorite characters with no commercials. Storylines that are complex and over-arching. Best thing ever. Honest.

8. Beautiful People

I wanted to put Spartans on the list. But then I thought, if I'm going to include objectified men I should balance that out with wonderful people that are just great. And then I thought, screw it, I'll just say "beautiful people." I'm happy for people that are good and whose beauty shines from within as well as without. And yes, I am grateful for people that make their livings as actors in itty bitty teeny tiny little leather panties. I try to be a full and complex individual.

7. Duct Tape

Are any of us not thankful for Duct Tape? That's what I thought.

6. Chocolate Chip Cookies

Somewhere, sometime, someone looked at flour, sugar, butter, eggs, and vanilla and thought "something great can be invented here." They were right, and I am a better person for it.

5. Books

They make me happy. They provide me with emotional fulfillment. They give me heroes and heroines that I love and adore. There's a reason I chose to make my living in literature.

4. Movies

Better than books cause they're shinier. There's picture, sound, and dialogue. And sometimes scantily clad barbarians saving babies and fighting for freedom.

3. Playtime Buddies

I'm implying masturbatory aids with this one. I trust the reasoning for thanks are self-explanatory (ah-ha-ha).

2. Indoor Plumbing

You know what's awesome? Not having to drop your pants in thirty degree weather. Or poop in a pan you throw out the window every night. There is no downside to this.

1. Controllable Crazy

This one might seem surprising, but as I look back on my life and my experiences I realized that I'm not "crazy" in the way some (or many) people are. And I'm not talking schizophrenic or bi-polar, though those count, but I don't have a personality disorder. I'm not wracked by anxiety, guilt, or depression. I control my life as much as I am able and generally don't drive people away...except for the crazy ones. So I wanted to take a minute and give thanks for that. I figure I need to love it up as much as I can for the next twenty years before menopause takes all semblance of control away from me.

So have a Happy Thanksgiving!

An Explanation Of My Feminism

Feminism is a dirty word. To be called a feminist in modern society is generally unflattering. Of my female students, most being approximately 18, they would rather be thought of as anything else. Slut, whore, prude--all of these are preferable to feminist. This is surprising for two reasons: the first, that many of these young women are incredibly religious and would hate to be thought sexually promiscuous or prudish (not fun); the second, that many of them believe they are equal to men and should be evaluated based on their merits, not their gender. It is the second one that truly intrigues me because that is the definition of feminist, but when I point this out to them they argue with me.

There have been three (approximately) waves of feminism so far; the first occurred during the suffrage movement, early 20th century, and was pioneered by women such as Virginia Woolf and Susan B. Anthony. Women were recognized for the first time as independent, equal members of society and this was signified most powerfully in their being given the right to vote. The second wave began in the 1960's; some might say it started with the French Feminists, chiefly Simone de Beauvoir, but it's origins are more mucky than that. Suffice to say these are the bra-burners, the man-haters, the flag wavers--they are also the women who vocalized, in many cases for the first time, what it was like to live and exist as a woman and to state outwardly, sometimes angrily, but always clearly that female existence is different than male existence and that was okay. The third wave of feminism is still taking place, but it is commonly termed post-structuralist feminism and has resulted in more social changes, equal pay for equal work, new ways of looking at literature, movies, art, and society, and the most famous name currently is perhaps Judith Butler.

The problem with feminism, as with anything, is that no two people exist with the same understanding of what it is, what it means, or what it has done. Language is a malleable thing and the meaning of any word is decided by a plethora of factors. Meaning exists on levels--the first level exists between the speaker and the listener. The meaning the speaker intended and the meaning the listener understands collide and, in the case of communication, coincides. The next level exists societally within both the speaker and the listener; the speaker understands a word with all the knowledge previously acquired--that includes dictionaries, familial and school influence, media, and folkloric aspects. A listener understands a word with all of these aspects in place as well. In the case of feminism the dictionary and educational definition, a social ideology proclaiming equality amongst all people, is often overrun by the familial, media, and folkloric definitions--man-hating, bra burning women who wish to create an Amazonian state where males are enslaved and all recognize the superiority of women. I am of course being dramatic in picking the most extreme popular ideas of feminism, but I've known enough people, myself included, who carried this definition of angry Amazons in varying incarnations to feel confident in its validity as an example.

It does not take any particular set of characteristics to be a feminist--age, gender, occupation, and education in no way decide whether one is or is not a feminist, though all may have a part in the likelihood. The current social negativity directed towards feminists and feminism exists for many, many reasons which I will not go into here because I don't want to write a 20 page paper, and you don't want to read it. I would say the chief reason, though, is that social change is very, very hard and very, very messy. People have made mistakes on all sides; they always do. There are women and men who have claimed themselves as feminists that have no more in common with feminists than fanatics do with the religion they claim justifies their actions. After all, today's revolutionary makes tomorrow's ruler. Despite those who have misused the feminist movement for selfish, viscous, or simply misunderstood means, feminism--as a concept, a social movement, and a way of life--is still an important and vital way of looking at and discussing society. Feminism is the validation of existence for the marginalized and the silenced; it has gotten women the right to vote, allowed employment opportunities outside the home, and given a voice to those whose experiences were previously invalidated because of their gender. I do not believe, and will never agree, that equality is a bad thing.

Feminism does not exist in the ether on its own; it exists only within the minds of those who believe, understand, and consciously pursue it. This means that many different forms of feminism exist, some of them hopelessly perverted. Other feminists are not to blame for those perversions any more than all Muslims are to blame for Al Queda, or all Christians for the KKK. Feminism, no matter the form it takes, will always be uncomfortable because it is constantly challenging ideas promoted by society, families, and media--part of the reason these challenges are so discomfiting is that feminism forces people to think about other's reactions, and their own, in a way that most people are never prepared to do. That means that in some cases, sexual harassment for example, the listener's understanding of meaning overrules the speaker's intention. What the speaker intended as harmless flirting feels to the listener like harassment. To know that you have discomfited someone--weirded them out--is a terribly disturbing experience. However, their right not to feel harassed, no matter how oversensitive they are or how harmless your intent, overrules your right to joke/flirt in a manner that makes them uncomfortable. In a perfect situation when a joke/flirt happens that upsets someone that person would express his/her feelings of ill-ease, the speaker would apologize and all would go on with their day. This isn't a perfect world and some people abuse the right to claim harassment or blow a comment entirely out of proportion. Perfect communication comes when the listener meets the speaker half-way--this is as true in this situation as any other.

Awareness of another's feelings, however, is more important than the speaker's comfort and the inconvenience of sitting through those god awful sexual harassment videos when you get a new job. This is because when you exist in the margin, whether because of your ethnicity, gender, or sexuality, people constantly make comments that range from thoughtlessly offensive to intentionally hurtful. If you're native American you're a mascot, and you are supposed to feel flattered that a caricature of you dances around a field mocking serious cultural and spiritual behaviors. If you're a homosexual it's understood that when someone declares a negative action "gay" they aren't really talking about you or your lifestyle, only using the signifier of your lifestyle as an icon of negativity. If you're a woman you are supposed to look over the fact that all negative emotions are attributed to femininity, being illogical, weak, weepy, needy, crazy, and positive characteristics are thought of as masculine qualities, strength, logical ability, control of oneself.

Feminists began the discussion about what happens to a person when everything about themselves that is unchangeable is described negatively--ethnicity, sexuality, or gender. If you grow up female you are raised in a world of painfully conflicting messages; be strong, be loud, be what you want to be/be quiet, stay home, play the damsel in distress. You are taught that you should snare a man while simultaneously told you don't need a man. These messages are further conflicted by complications of societal treatment of sex and biology that I'm not going into because this explanation is already out of control. This state of conflicting messages is not unique to women or minorities, but the inability to voice feelings about the conflict, to use language that describes one's unique experience as outside the dominant hegemonic group is. White, straight males are as full of conflict, emotion, and human condition as any other demographic; however, the voice of white, straight, male experience has dominated literature, society, and oral stories for well over two millennia. This does not mean that a man does not have a unique experience, everyone has a unique experience, but it does mean that other demographics have existed in a sphere of silence that is inconceivable to those who haven't and feminism, along with other ideologies, has given language to that silence. I cannot conceive of what it would be like to be black, but I recognize the need for black voices in print and media. I cannot conceive of what it would be like to be male, but I recognize the need for male voices in print and media. I do know what it is like to be female, and recognizing the need for female voices alongside the voices of others I speak here and other places.

In my opinion, giving voice and working towards a more equal, understanding, and dialogic world is what feminism is all about.

My experience at Blockbuster, as stated multiple times but somehow misinterpreted, had nothing to do with the man who was kind enough to compliment me. I appreciated it then, as I previously stated, and I still appreciate it now. My discussion of that experience had to do with being a woman and existing in a state, through no one particular person, group, or gender's fault, where frustrating well intentioned dialogue is constantly, unintentionally, double-edged. That wasn't the speaker's fault, in this case the man at the store, it was a response from me the listener that he carries no blame for. But unless I talk about it, unless I express my experience of it, then others who might make the same comment will never know that it evokes an unintended reaction. That's why I speak--to give value and meaning to my existence.

Society is in the middle of an upheaval right now; competing voices are making demands that cannot possibly all be met. Men are constantly villainized as rapists, pedophiles, and chauvinists by those that would judge them for their gender. However, to judge me as a feminist based on others is the same mistake. We stereotype because it's easy, not because we have to--I am as guilty as others sometimes. I appreciate a door held for me, and I appreciate a pleasant compliment. But my personal belief is that true politeness and goodness is practiced by both genders equally, and it happens when one does something nice for someone not because they have to or feel required to but because they want to. Don't hold the door for me because I'm a woman, hold the door for me because you're polite. I will do the same. That is, I think, the key to a better world and better society.

There are many, many more things I would like to include here, but this is already ridiculously long. Despite its length, however, I would ask that all read the whole thing before forming responses to my existence as a feminist. It isn't about one gender over another or one ideology brainwashing a nation; it's about equality and understanding for each individual and the means and ability to achieve happiness and enlightenment.

Cultural guilt is a powerful thing. We don’t enjoy being blamed for behaviors we didn’t enact or condone, nor do we enjoy recognizing any aspect of those former beliefs in our current persona. It is a hard thing to seek knowledge, as a feminist or civil rights activist or whatever label we want to apply—perhaps post-colonialist is best. It is even harder to express thoughts of existence, right or wrong, knowing there are those that don’t only misunderstand or disagree, but hate you for your perceived stupidity. Nothing is more detrimental to education and communication than attack without urge to listen. The previous presidential election, discussions of my feminist ideologies, my decision to refuse to stay quiet have consistently put in me situations where people forcefully disagree with me. I want to be a person that does not shy away from challenges of what I say, but that want is easier held than idealized. Responding to powerful, emotional arguments is also difficult because my ire is raised and my first impulse is to attack back. That does no one any good, though, and for this reason I am both going to engage in the conversation to the best of my ability and I am not going to remove comments. Should the conversation devolve, however, into nothing more than attack-oriented comments with no genuine urge to understand on either side, I will delete all negative posts with nary a word spoken about them.

First, and most importantly, I would never punch someone in the face for a compliment. My hyperbole was used for particular rhetorical effect and understanding authorial intent is as much a reader’s responsibility as it is an author’s responsibility to anticipate the reader’s response. Alongside that is my second point. My experience is my own and is being presented here as nothing more in a space of free speech. This means that no matter how well intentioned, I am sometimes the recipient of what some would term compliments that are not wholly complimentary. Not because of the intention of the complimenter, but because they are operating from a standpoint and ideology that is unaware of an existence outside their own. These sorts of compliments, like an older wealthy man telling me he is proud of me for being such a good girl, are not offered with intention to hurt, but do nonetheless. I speak about these things because I feel the best way to broaden perspective and complicate thinking is to speak of differing experience, regardless of how uncomfortable such sharing can be.

Finally, and not least importantly, I bear no ill will towards anyone who compliments me nor am I sorry it happened. My irritation is with a greater ideology of the world—an ideology that is still going strong as evidenced through the powerful responses my story begot. I am not a man hater, a compliment hater, or any sort of hater; merely a person sharing observations as untoward as they may be at times because I see value in it. This is not an apology but an explanation.

To disagree with someone through moral superiority and judgment with no clear attempt at understanding what they are saying is precisely what I am attempting to avoid with this explanation. But regardless of my personality flaws, of which there are many, and the reasons for my beliefs and reactions, of which there are more, I am not sorry for my response to the nice man at Blockbuster (which was nothing but appreciative in my actions and gestures) or for my continued espousal of what I think and why.

That is the last I will say on this particular topic, though I will always clarify my thoughts as requested in an effort to communicate as I want to, not only as is comfortable for me.

It looks as if I will have to remove comments from my blog if things continue as they do. I apologize for the inconvenience and will keep all updated.

I was renting movies at Blockbuster yester eve when the employee said something funny, annoying, sweet, and heartbreaking to me: he said, "these are really good movie choices--you know if I wasn't married..." and then he gave a friendly smile/giggle combination. I made small talk and wished him well, but inside I kind of wanted to punch him the face. The reason for this is that this comment, like so many others I've heard over the years, falls into the category of "You're so cool I bet you make someone a fantastic girlfriend/wife someday, but it won't be me because I'm not actually attracted to you at all." Obviously this particular instance was different as he was married, but it was precisely the sort of throw away comment that reminds me time and time again how attractive and awesome I am in theory to most every guy I meet, just not in actuality.

The best metaphor I could conceive to explain my feelings about this is a bit unorthodox: I feel like the dude in the wheelchair at the marathon to whom the runners say "I really respect your spirit and courage to keep going." That sort of theoretical you're so awesome mentality which is undercut by a fervent desire to never be me.

I don't know exactly why I bring this up except that it's been on my mind a lot lately. I've known men that I've wished all the happiness and love in the world, but would never ever date myself. But I don't think I've ever told them they will make someone a great boyfriend/husband some day. There is something about that statement that reeks of "I'm so proud of you"--a statement I never respond well to unless I've just saved a baby or stayed true to my morals in the face of absolute evil.

I hate it when married guys tell me how awesome I am because there are two meanings to it and neither of them is acceptable. The first meaning is that I have a great personality and because they are happily married with all of their sexual needs met they look at no one with particular sexual approval or disapproval and so comment on my awesomeness as they would a well trained dog that belongs to someone else. The second meaning is that they are unhappily married and so whatever part of me seems to fill the void created by their lack of happiness becomes exceptionally appealing and they are seriously contemplating cheating--that skeezes me out to no end. Nothing turns me off quicker than a man looking to make me his mistress.

As a brilliant friend of mine said most men are constantly trying to make women less--less physically and less metaphysically. I'm not offering this as a stereotype or judgment, but only as a statement of experience I and other women have had. It isn't that they are trying to hurt us; they only want to contain us, take care of us, handle us. They've been raised since they were born to take care of women, as we were raised to find a man who could take care of us.

Some would say that's biology, but I don't buy it. In nature no other species is so bifurcated by gender; the females aren't housed, domesticated, and protected because they are smaller and weaker. They are expected to hunt, protect, and birth. Each species deals with reproduction differently, but the notion that women have evolved as the protected by men is bunk, I think. I think consciousness of sexual politics, consciousness itself changes everything about gender relations as it does all other aspects of our life.

I'm not denying biology here, but I think I am floating the argument that whatever biological urges we have are so overwrought with societal messages and expectations that it is nearly impossible to tell the two apart. We have chemistry with particular people which seems to speak towards biology, but we have such complicated and ingrained social expectations of behavior from the opposite sex that if someone acts in a particular way they become unattractive despite physical appeal. This is countered by objectification, appreciation and value decided purely by physicality, but objectification seems to arise chiefly in an attempt to assert control. Men don't want to find a beautiful woman unattractive because of her personality so she is taught not to talk; as women take on these less positive aspects of society in modern attempts at equality they begin objectifying men in the same ways for the same reasons. Sex, therefore, becomes an end instead of a means and the body the only viable decider in sexuality. We then begin manipulating the body for it to be the most attractive object it can be--waxing, crash dieting, weight lifting for appearance as opposed to strength. Like beautiful dolls that talk we also limit our personalities, try to make ourselves less, so that the object--our body--is as untainted by excessive complications as possible.

In the end our bodies aren't objects, they house people, and those who thought they were in love and understood the other person become miserable because neither one is capable of dealing with themselves let alone someone else. The scary thing is (there are many scary things, but this is one) that women's lib struggled so long to change this pattern and as women rebelled against feminist ideals they began to perpetuate it themselves. We objectify because we can, but never stop to think if we should.

I don't know where I'm going with any of this, other than general dissatisfaction with the state of the world and gender politics today. There's nothing particularly revolutionary or brilliant about what I've stated above, it just is. And it did make me feel good to have the Blockbuster man appreciate my movie choices--it's always fun to fascinate someone.

Maybe I'm just fed up with having to hear, over and over again, if I were different, and you were different, and things were different, they would be different. It's also entirely possible I should stop studying gender politics of the early modern period; perhaps all that talk of women as the progenitors of sin and inherently evil makes me a tad angry at the world, yes? Quite right.

I was fortunate enough to see the newest James Bond this weekend and naturally I began plotting my response to it here where all could see. Just recently, however, I noticed an article on msn written by someone who had never seen a James Bond film until recently. I read it because I too had never seen a film until four or five years ago and I wasn't astounded to hear that someone else had lived her life without watching every single film multiple times. I was bothered by one part of it, however; apparently the Pierce Brosnan Bond's are skewered for being politically correct. They took out everything but the puns--something I hadn't noticed. These new ones are a return to a more gritty Bond. There are several things wrong with this statement; first that Craig has more in common with Dalton and Brosnan than Moore and Pierce Brosnan was by far better than Roger Moore (I hate Roger Moore; I should throw that out there). Second, that Daniel Craig never hits a woman either...but somehow he's edgey where Pierce Brosnan was politically correct. I think we as a society just wake up one day and assume the values we've assimilated were always there.

In any case! What I want to write about, what I set out to write about, what must be written about is:

The Top Ten Reasons Why James Bond Rocks My Pants Off

010 Incredibly Lucky

It's that about which we never speak: Mr. Bond is incredibly lucky. How is it he manages to stumble across the bad guys at just the right moments? How is it he manages not to get shot in the head? How is it his villains always underestimate him? Sure, some of it's skill, training, all around greatness, but James Bond is one lucky bastard.

009 Butt-kicking Awesomeness

When luck isn't enough Mr. Bond is, quite simply, Butt-kickingly awesome. I thought about how I could say this more seriously or sophisticatedly or 007y, but I can only speak the truth. The man can out shoot, out run, and out *ahem* well, you know, everyone on both sides of the Atlantic. This is really the reason from which all following reasons follow. How would you put it?

008 Man Can Drive A Car

Generally I'm not a car girl. Yes, a car that growls as opposed to whines is a beautiful thing, but guys driving their Porsches and their BMW's just don't do anything for me. But James doesn't just drive a nice car; James uses that car in ways that are groin-tingling spectacular.

007 Great in the Sack

It had to be said. As a red blooded, heterosexual female you have to wonder. Sure, in some of the early films he hits you, but only when you ask for it.

006 Can't Keep A Good Spy Down

He just won't die. You can shoot him; you can drown him. You can throw him off a cliff to sharks with lasers on their heads. But he won't die. Revisit 010 and 009.

005 Smarter Than Your Average Bad Guy

Q makes the gadgets, but Bond is somehow able to use them with only rudimentary training. And he always figures out the evil plots with very minimal sleuth work. And, AND while the bad guy is soliloquizing Bond is preparing his escape. Intelligence is so hot.

004 A.M./F.M.--Animal Magnetism/Formidable Masculinity

Most times someone has one or the other. Example A) Captain Jack Sparrow--magnetism, but not much in the way of masculinity. Example B) Any Arnold Schwarzenegger character--lots of masculinity but no magnetism. James Bond, though, has them both in spades. You never doubt for a minute that he's sexy, and you know, whether he's in a tux, a swim suit, or some all black, spandex, super spy get up, that he's all man.

003 B.B.S.B.--Bad Boy Saving Babies

Dear James doesn't like to follow rules. That makes him a bad boy. But he breaks the rules to save babies and, you know, the world. That makes him hot.

002 Stays Cool Under Pressure...Until He Doesn't

Torture, femme fatales, imminent death--nothing throws ol' James. He's stoic and cool through the whole movie, until someone does something and pushes him over the edge. Those moments, when he loses it, are only so powerful because his coolness is so complete previously. It isn't that he has a temper or lack of control or anything so mundane as that. Quite simply...James Bond is a man that I would love to push over the edge.

001 Super Spy

Super spies are the real life equivalent to superheroes. Their ability to save the day seems almost like a superpower, and their continual bad luck with women and happiness gives them a bit of noir detective feel. Basically what has happened there is a stew of hotness. All the best parts of everyone's favorite archetypes have been thrown together, mixed on high, and baked until Bonded.

So it is that while he's chauvinistic, egotistic, perhaps even masochistic I would still, if given half an opportunity, allow my pants to totally be rocked off by James Bond. So what if I'm only a notch in the bed post? It's gonna be a heck of a lot of fun making said notch.

So I just saw an ad for "laser hair removal" and it got me thinking about hair and places where I view it should and should not be. On the one hand it would really nice to never have to shave my legs or armpits again, but on the other side I wasn't sure I appreciated technology that exists only to remove hair.

All of this inevitably led me to thoughts to pubic hair, as hair removal conversations always do, and I remembered a good friend recently confirming my thought that if you shave your vagina you look 12--at least in between your legs. I find this disturbing and she finds this disturbing. But then I started thinking a little more and I decided that we, modern civilized people that we are, have all been pansified.

People have been having good sex for well over a couple millennia now and for most of that time hair was not an issue. They had other things like bound feet, or corseted waists, or female circumcision (all three of which are still in existence) but nobody was being grossed out by body hair. Maybe when everybody poops in a bowl body hair becomes less gross by comparison.

But in my opinion--and I apologize for the complete and total judgment about to take place--if you get grossed out by body hair or are bothered by it in any serious way you're a wuss. That's not the popular opinion these days because we like things to be clean, and well kept--as if my vagina were somehow a domesticated animal or small house for entertaining guests. But can we just think about the logic here? Please? You're having sex, people, and you're worried about the cleanliness of skin that does or does not have hair? Did you not taste the spit in your mouth? Or the various other bodily fluids? Hello!

I don't want to get too gross here, but I want to be as clear as possible that drawing etiquette lines in the bedroom is a mildly hypocritical act. Somebody peeing on somebody is an obvious health hazard; someone shaving or not shaving their body is not. And it isn't that I think someone shouldn't appreciate an aesthetic that appeals to them, but the moral responsibility we have attached to the aesthetic is what bothers me. If a woman doesn't shave, wax, or at least trim she's dirty and unkempt. And, for clarification, I'm not discussing keeping one's self in the one's swimsuit--that's a given, and has no bearing on this conversation. I'm rebelling against the idea that unsightly pubic hair has taken on the social significance of the mullet.

We scoff at unshaved bodies the same way we scoff at mullets and fanny-packs. Were I a better person I would take this as a lesson not to scoff at mullets and fanny-packs any longer, but I probably won't. But mullets and f.p's don't exist in natural naturally. Hair doesn't believe in business in the front while it parties in the back unless you're Joe Dirt and even his hair wasn't like that naturally. But the societal concept of my pubic hair as a fashion faux pas is causing me indigestion. I think the idea of my body as an inconvenience to someone desiring sex is indicative of a much larger, and scarier, issue in our society at large.

How dare you be the way you are when it limits my ease and pleasure?

Not something you would want to say to someone, right? Or have said to you? And yet, we change ourselves everyday so that it won't have to be said, or implied, in our direction. It isn't simply an aesthetic choice at this point; it's become expected and desired--a development of the last twenty years or so.

I'm still thinking on the implications of all of this, but regardless of what is decided I still stand by original claim:

If pubic hair bothers you all that much, you're a pansy.


This judgment brought to you by the FPBS--Fanny Pack Broadcasting Network.

I'm rereading a fantastic book from my adolescent years and I find I can't put it down. It's an amazing thing to have a book that affected you as a child still be as fun and insightful to read as an adult. For those interested it's the Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind and I highly recommend them to anyone seeking a fun, fantasy filled adventure. My point, however, is that as I am reading it the female protagonist cries about every one hundred pages or so, sometimes less--I just read a line where she lamented how much she cries saying she rarely cried all her life, but seems to cry constantly in the continuum of the story. I cut her some slack; she's tromping through the wild fighting to save the world. I figure that's a trying situation for the best of us.

But this got me thinking about how much crying I've seen in Las Vegas. Not so much from me, I cry about as much (or as little) as I ever have, but it seems that every month, or week, or day, my phone rings and the person on the other end is in tears. This hasn't been a constant occurrence in my life since late high school, early college. The one shining point is that I haven't caused the tears, but I'm constantly surprised that I am the one people call when shedding said tears. I'm not a nurturer. I'm a fixer. I only want tears when they are attached to a situation I can fix.

But this has me thinking about the nature of the city I live in and the people I know. I've gotten meaner since I moved here, both in thought and deed. I've tried to avoid it when I am aware of it, but I find my patience with people is much less than it used to be, and my expressions of my annoyance are much sharper and sometimes cattier. There's no need to make fun of what someone looks like just because their comments consistently irritate the crap out of me in class, but I am constantly gravitating that way. I shouldn't scream at the phone when I see people calling, but I fear what's waiting for me on the other side if I pick up.

Is it the city? Is it the school? Is it the people? I know amazing people here. I've met some of the best writers I've ever read, and had amazing conversations about all metaphysical topics graduate students love to discuss. I've had nights that were so much fun I didn't want them to end and nights that were so much fun it seemed the hangover never would end. The craziness doesn't seem to affect everyone by any means, but the extremes are significantly more varied than anywhere else I have lived in my life. It's almost as if everyone in this town lives at a pole--good or bad, sane or crazy. I'm still not sure where I am--if the screen runs with tears as I complain that no one loves me we'll have our answer.

I've joked that Las Vegas is the eight rings of Dante's hell; maybe it's living in a climate that wasn't made to support our life comfortably. Everything out here wants to kill you--the weather, the animals, the people--so perhaps it creates an environment that brings out the crazy in all of us. It could be an economy that's based solely on vice; Las Vegas is sort of like the final years of Rome recreated in the desert. I don't know myself, it's a quandary that still baffles understanding.

The obvious answer is that I simply shouldn't answer my phone, but I begin to feel that my journey into meanness would be complete if I did that. On the other hand, my own crazy is being exacerbated by the surrounding crazy crying at me every other day. So the philosophical question of the day is: is it more humane to be a friend even when those needing your friendship drive you crazy with their own instability or should you cut them off and not answer the phone? Of course if I don't answer the phone a voicemail will be left and at some point a call back made. Unless I can get around it with text messaging. God Bless text messages.

So that's where life stands in the city of sin. Overall it's pretty darn fun, and I'll probably never regret my time here, certainly there are friends I'm constantly grateful I've had the chance to know. But, I wonder what little mental gems I'll be taking with me when I leave in a year or two--will I come out with my soul intact, or calling all of you, crazy and inconsolable?

Only time will tell...duh duh duhn...(dramatic music)

Oh fine. I have to write about Prop 8 in California. I started any number of comments about Obama winning the election, silly people and their misunderstandings of socialism, but ultimately I talked myself out of making remarks. They seemed redundant and unnecessary. But California voted for Prop 8 and repealed Gay Marriage and that is worth thinking about.

I understand some of the fear behind resisting Same Sex Marriage--religious people are afraid that a change in federal law will affect churches. Understanding that allows me to be more knowledgeable about their views and even sympathetic to a point; we don't have particularly concrete separation of church and state and recent years have forced a lot of the traditional powers in our country to make way for minorities. That can be disconcerting. But even understanding all of this...I just don't care. I'm about to get very undemocratic here for just a second.

I don't care that Same Sex Marriage seems unnatural to most of the country. I don't care that churches and church-goers are worried about losing their right to decide social morality. I don't care that not everyone in this country can tolerate equality. I don't think you should have to move to another state to have equitable rights with other human beings. I don't think you should have to pick your geographic location based on your race, sexuality, or religion. Same Sex Marriage isn't a gun control law, or an alcohol law, or a transportation law. We don't allow Alabama or Mississippi to pass a law that reinstates Separate but Equal. When it comes to race, matters of equality are considered fundamental because they fall under what the Constitution specifically lays out for the country: a right to life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

Why isn't marriage a matter of equality? Why isn't the ability to be recognized by the government, state and federal, as a married couple as clearly unequal as Jim Crow laws? Because marriage between same sex partners is unnatural? Unnecessary? Detrimental to society? All of those arguments were used against bi-racial marriage not that long ago. For a black person and white person to be sexual together was considered an abomination. Does anyone else find that funny? I'm laughing.

How do we, as a society, decide our morals and ethics? Thus far, despite separation of church and state, it seems religion, specifically Christianity, has been our go to. But we live in a country of varied religion and no religion; how can we force people to obey a law that is based on religion? What reasons, outside religious ones, are there for denying Same Sex Marriage? It isn't dangerous; it isn't hurtful. It isn't bad for the economy--a marriage between two consenting adults agreeing to live with each other as a single household in the eyes of the State. Why must we pass a law that refuses to recognize that?

Please don't think I'm being anti-religion here. If you do, I feel that's a misreading of my statements. I'm stating there is no place for religion in government, and that no one has yet to offer a convincing argument for why Same Sex Marriage should be denied on a governmental level. Churches are a private sphere and must choose their tolerances as they see fit; there are many churches that recognize homosexuals as equal, healthy members of their community. There are many that don't. My quarrel is with none of them. My point is that we continue, as a society, to pass laws based on a morality that has no place in our government and we, as a people, continue to allow bigotry to rule.

I feel it is incredibly important that all start to realize our government needs to pass laws based on the ethicality of the situation--what is most ethical for society. Morality is a private issue and has no place in law. I say that because we all carry such intensely different morals, and while they rarely cancel each other out we need a government that can navigate the difference between the wide-ranging beliefs of its people. We need a government that will promote and protect a healthy, equal, and ethical society. Just because the majority votes to be bigoted in a state, I don't think the Constitution protects them.

In the intersection of personal rights I still believe that one's right to equality will always trump another's right to bigotry.