Checking In

Geez, has it really been six days since my last post? It's gone by pretty quickly, well, except for yesterday. The night before last we went to a tapas bar with some friends from out of town and Indulged with a capital I. There were 5 of us, 4 of us over drinking age, and we went through 2 pitchers of sangria and a ton of extra good, extra olive oily food. I probably had 5 or so highball-sized glasses of sangria and 10 or 15 pieces of fruit. I could feel the alcohol, but I didn't feel drunk, just tipsy. I also had all this over a period of about 3 hours and I drank a lot of water, too. Alas, it was not enough to keep me from the hangover from hell. I usually have malt beverages when I drink, so I guess I just couldn't handle that much wine or something. I think I was hung over until about 7 last night, and I'd been at work since noon.

School is starting in a few days for me and I'm excited. I've gotten most of my books, except my Latin books, which have not even been ordered from the bookstore yet, apparently. I hope it's an oversight, or that they're preparing a reading packet for us, because there's no way in hell I'm carrying around the intolerably huge and clunky Wheelock's Latin for another semester. No way. I had to carry it 5 days a week last semester, and I'm so sick of that book. Besides, I took my copy out back and shot it...I mean...took it to the recycling center, right after school was over.

I've also begun pringing out my syllabi and flagging my readings and printing out supplimentary material. You see, over the past few semesters, I've becomes an organization freak when it comes to school, and it didn't take long to realize that I use preparation and organization as a means for procrastination. Ohh...that was a nice sounding sentence. So, I figure if I get a lot of my obsessive organization done now, I'll be forced to do more work later. Here's hoping. At any rate, I'll write more later.

And no, I'm not PMSing right now.

I just found this great post on The Happy Feminist. And oldie but goodie. I'm so glad that someone else was annoyed by this. Men often use second-hand information the menstrual cycle to exoticise and "explain" women. I usually do feel some side effects before I get my period: about three days of mild depression and some preliminary cramps. However, once I figured out that this monthly depression was the cause of PMS, I was just able to say, "OK, it's hormones. Now that I know that, I'll move on." So much attention is paid to PMS that most women probably know what symptoms they can expect from PMS and how to deal with them.

The really annoying thing, however, is when you're just pissed off or frustrated and men just assume that you're PMSing. I remember this happened one time in high school when I was at play practice. Anyone who's ever been in any kind of play or production requiring a lot of rehearsal time knows how frustrating it is. Group work on a large scale, especially with a group of people who are not professionals, is REALLY frustrating. So one time I was on stage practicing and something went wrong or somebody said something that annoyed me and I said something angry. My instructor then said, in front of everyone, while I was standing on stage, "Geez! Can you say PMS?" I remember that my mouth dropped open because I was so surprised to hear that from a grown man. I was on stage in front of everyone, so what was I supposed to do? Say "I just got off my period last week." I can't remember, but I think I said aloud, "That is the most immature thing I've ever heard." I know I thought it, at least, but looking back, I hope I said it aloud.

This is the problem: whenever a woman gets angry, men can just say, "She's PMSing," thereby eliminating any responsibility they may have towards the situation, blaming it all on her cycle and leaving it at that. But what if she's not PMSing? What if she's pissed off for a legitimate reason or she's in a frustrating situation (and believe me, nothing is more frustrating that a high school play)? Any grown woman is going to know she's PMSing. She knows the symptoms, she knows the time of month, and she doesn't need to use it as an excuse.

The comments on THF's blog were mostly annoying. There were a few men who were bringing science into it as a ruse for saying that hormonal women are irrational and are in no place to judge whether they're irrational or not. It's true, I only know as much about human genetics and anatomy as Biology 101 and 102 will teach, but I do know that not treating people like shit and taking them seriously was around WAY before modern biology was, and so were hormonal fluctuations. Everybody has them and so it's shameful for anybody to judge other people on normal hormonal fluctuations. Since PMS has supposedly been demystified, everyone, especially people who have never experienced it, uses it to explain away women's anger, depression, frustration, and all those other nasty emotions that she has no reason to feel. (I mean, after all, I didn't piss her off or anything, did I?)

Men do go through some sort of cycle, too, but since these, I guess, are just part of guys being guys, they're not used to explain away stuff. My manager at work, a guy in his early 50's, goes through some sort of cycle. He'll be normal most of the time, say, for 9 months out of the year, but then all of a sudden, he'll just go through three months where he's a total asshole, jumping down everybody's throat for everything. At least one person quits during these times. I stay on because I know that they're temporary and that as long as I just do what he says, don't give him any shit, and try to distract him from whatever's bothering him, he'll put up with me. I guess I should also mention that he and I are really good friends. But am I like, "Oh, he's on his hormonal kick again. I guess I shouldn't take anything he says or does seriously"? No. The stuff he's pissed off about is actually legitimate stuff, it's just that he's more frustrated by it than he normally would be.

At the end of the day, he's still my friend who's a nice guy nine months of the year and a pain in the neck for three months. I don't dismiss him, I don't pick and choose what times of the year or month that I'm his friend, I'm not all like, "I like him, except when he's PMSing," you know? If he's my friend, I have to embrace him completely.

Hmmm....well, I did drink a little last night...

Late this morning, I had a dream that I was Christina Rossetti and that D. G. (who looked nothing like the real Dante Rossetti) gave me this big parcel as a gift. Mark you, this was taking place in present times in my parents' house and I went to my bedroom, which looked like it did when I was 14, and opened it. It was full of those old lady cute-kitten-in-a-watering-can t-shirts and some really cheap, ugly jewlrey, you know, the kind you'd order from Avon 15 years ago? And I was totally delighted by these gifts.

And on top of all of that, I woke up with the Beach Boys' rendition of "Sloop John B" stuck in my head. Who knows?

Schopenhauer

The other day at a used bookstore, I picked up a book called History of Ideas on Woman. It contains the thoughts, mostly of philosophers, about women down to '70s. Most of the stuff in it didn't surprise me. The first entry is from the book of Genesis, a.k.a. the death knell for women's rights and dignity for the next 2,000 years. Pre-Biblical entries include Plato, Plutarch, and Aristotle. Plato said that women should be included in society too, and that keeping them in the home isn't doing anyone any good. Too bad nobody took him seriously. Plutarch just backs up the whole "your place is in the house" thing, while Aristotle posits that women are just mutilated, and therefore inferior, versions of men that just happen to give birth.

One essay that I'd never heard of before because I've stopped really reading western philosophy at this point, was Schopenhauer's essay about women. Now, I don't know anything about Schopenhauer, but I do know that western philosophers rise to prominence because they have something new or different to say. Ah, yes, let me expound my new system to you, and then when it comes time to talk about women, I'm going to defend every status quo observation about them since recorded history.

Women are directly fitted for acting as the nurses and teachers of our early childhood by the fact that they are themselves childish, frivolous and short-sighted; in a word, they are big children all their life long.

Like I haven't heard that one before. Well here's one that people still haven't gotten over the centuries: if you don't don't allow people to be educated, they'll be stupid. If you train them to be frivolous, they will be. If you make them spend all their time around children, they'll be childlike.

It is only the man whose intellect is clouded by his sexual impulses that could give the name of the fair sex to that under-sized, narrow-shouldered, broad-hipped, and short-legged race; for the whole beauty of the sex is bound up with this impulse.

Oh, yeah, I TOTALLY heard that making sweeping generalizations about the appearance of a group of people and then using that as a basis for calling them inferior was a well thought out, philosophical way to prove your point. Good one, Art.

In our part of the world where monogamy is the rule, to marry means to halve one's rights and double one's duties.

Exactly! Just like my mom has worked 40 hours a week and done all the housework and cooking and child-raising and bill-paying for the last 25 years, while my dad just works, does laundry once a week, and mows the lawn sometimes! Oh! And he keeps a separate checking account that he just spends on himself! Now you're getting it!

OK, I'm done. You get my point. This is why I shy away from established philosophies or religions, most of which are misogynistic. These guys can say all they want about new social contracts, ways of perceiving the universe, etc. I don't care. If you can't wrap your mind around the fact that if you oppress people the bad qualities they have are there only because of your oppression, then I'm not going to have any respect for your damn philosophy.

Several Things

OK, firstly, I must level: most of my posts have been way too angry over the past couple of months. I think this has something to do with reading up on racism and sexism and poverty and seeing just how screwed up things are in this country, not to even start on others. But aside from that, I think I've just been a much more angry person, and I think a lot of this has to do with going back to work at the bookstore. At any crappy job, the amount of negative psychological residue that builds up in someone's brain can reach levels of toxicity in a short period of time. If someone tells me that they don't like their latte, their complaint is immediately compounded with every other person who has done that. I came back to work refreshed, but it didn't take long for things to snowball back into the same old mental grind, perhaps even worse. I'll have been at the cafe for three years in October and I think it's about time to start looking for another job.

Anyway, I've always definitely had a longer fuse than a lot of people, and for me, ranting about something on my blog and flying off the handle about something in a visible way are two different things. But right now I have limited outlets for my thoughts. I've been blogging more and writing less, and usually my writing is about literature, whereas my blogging is about social issues and day to day stuff, and since those piss me off far worse than literature, this blog comes off as angry, I think. However, I'm not off the hook in the least. As my friend Sarah L. pointed out in a comment, there's not enough compassion in this world. It's totally true. I believe that most of the world's ills come from ignorance by itself or compounded with something else. Lack of compassion not only shows ignorance about how the world actually works, but it also shows ignorance towards whoever you're not being compassionate to, i. e. that spider bit me and I'm angry at it, but, really, it was only trying to protect its egg sack or the babies on its back, and if someone threatened my children, I'd probably bite them too.

Lesson duly noted. Fortunately, school is starting soon and I'll have varied positive outlets for my energy.

Let's see...what's been going on? Well, I read the 20th Carnival of Feminists, which totally blew me away. I loved the posts on women in poverty, women caught in the crossfire of war, the alienating aspect of academic feminism, and reproductive rights. To me, these are the more important issues of feminism. While I don't think anyone in the feminist blogosphere right now is really giving much thought to last name changing and other common "petty" points of feminism, but there are probably a lot of people like Twisty who point out the enduring and covert signs of oppressive patriarchal notions that still pervade society. I'm not saying that this is unimportant. I'm a regular reader of I Blame the Patriarchy, but to me, being able to sit down and point this stuff out and think about it is a luxury which many American women and most of the women around the world do not have. I remember that someone commented on IBTP, during the whole blowjob debate, that American women are among the most oppressed women in the world, and that we don't even know it because we love our oppression so much. While it is true that people who would otherwise be rebellious can usually be bought out pretty easily, whenever I think about that comment, I know that it probably excludes poor American women because their oppression doesn't entail liking blowjobs, but putting up with domestic violence, harassment and humiliation from their employers and the government. This makes me realize how wrong-headed a lot of mainstream academic feminism is. We're the most oppressed? At least we have time and energy and the ability to create a weblog and talk about feminism with other women without having to worry about answering to a man or to the government or our religious leader. And furthermore, "loving" blowjobs is nothing compared to..say...desperately wanting to have yourself and your daughters circumsized so that you won't be ostracized.

At any rate, the carnival was really powerful and inspirational and the writings of so many kickass women cause me to assess and reassess my own humanity and my own power.

The domestic front, Thom and I have taken up the task of keeping strict track of our finances. We try to live as if we didn't have any money invested and I'm beginning to realize how fortunate I am to have a safety net. We don't live an extravagant life and our hobbies are pretty inexpensive for the most part, but things have been expensive lately. All told, my dental work will be around $2,000, while we just dropped another $700 on Thom's Jeep, all of this being money that we would have to put on credit cards and pay off slavishly, we can pay off all at once. We have lived together for a year now and we've never set a budget, which is something that I think we need to do by the time we get married, get a joint checking account, my car and health insurance gets added to the expenses, and we start filing jointly for taxes. Currently, we're spending way too much money on eating out. We pay for most stuff with credit cards, but when you get your credit card statement, there is is, someone's already done the math for you, and all you do is glance at it, say, "I could have spent less" and put it in the file.

To my mind, there's only one way to be aware of how much money you spend: painfully. I bought one of those old-fashioned budgeting books, which makes it necessary to keep receipts for everything we buy and sit down with a pencil, enter them by category, and add them up at the end of the day. The amount of money we've spent on eating out in the past four days has been nauseating enough. When I showed him the figure, I think it killed both our appetites.

As for reading, I've been doing a lot of reading about Wordsworth still. I've also been trying to draw the lines between Gray, Cowper and early WW, only to find that he owed them so much at the beginning of his career, yet hated them so much. I guess it's like the way that I might owe current or recent poets a lot, but yet want to separate myself from them. I got this book of WW's "critical opinions" from the library, which is total crap. OK, first let me give a brief layout of WW's life. He lived from 1770-1850 and began writing poetry around 1785 and, by most accounts, had written most of his good stuff by 1807. As a young man, like many naive English intellectuals, he fervently supported the French Revolution and actually spent time in France and had a child by a French woman. For English people, though, supporting the revolution was a radical and leftist thing to do because it implied that the English king should be dethroned, also. WW also took a radical turn in poetry and began writing really stripped down, good, unprecedented stuff. As he grew older though, he grew more conservative, and he became poet laureate in 1836, I think, when Walter Scott died. Poet laureate never has been and never will be a measure of a poet's worth. Let me think of all the good British and American poet laureates:

• John Dryden

• Wordsworth

• Tennyson

• Robert Frost

• Ted Hughes

Yeah, that's about it. It's a political appointment more than anything else, and often someone like Colley Cibber or Walter Scott, who did not write poetry predominantly, but only dabbled in it and published a little, were made poets laureate on account of the fact that they were famous writers who were willing to write bullshit poetry in flattery of the government. After 1807, WW still wrote a LOT of poetry, but very little of it gets read because it's so boring and mediocre. The older, conservative WW was more interested in the decency of authors and their moral value than he was with how good their work was. When you look up his critical "opinions" on Byron, all WW has to say is that he thought Byron was insane. This has no value but an anecdotal one, and why anyone would go out of his way to collect this and much less interesting "opinions" is beyond me. I'm only interested in his pre-1807 opinions, when he was still trying to fight for something, work for something, and had something to say about those who came before him.

That's about that for now. I have to go eat lunch.

Small Rant

I really don't have that much to write about. The day before last I spent 2 1/2 hours in the dentist's chair making preparations for a crown I'll get in a couple of weeks.

Next semester I'm taking a class called "Literary Perversion," which will be taught by my friend. I've been gathering all the books together for it: Don Juan (Moliere), Don Juan (Byron), The Story of O, Venus in Furs, Fanny Hill, Lolita and some other stuff. It should be a pretty interesting class, needless to say.

On a trip to the mall this morning, I did see one thing worth ranting about. In the window of a consignment shop today, I saw a huge set of newlymade "folk art" serving ware painted with blackface-like depictions, but whereas the older stuff is all in darker hues, this stuff was in varying hues, from very light to black, set against a white background. This is something that is not only racist, but also bugs me on an aestetic levelt. I'm not talking about folk art MADE by black people, but stuff like this that old white lady folk art collectors think is cool (note that it's a pin cushion, of all things).

Firstly, this stuff is just ugly. No human being has ever had a dark black face, big cartoon eyes and huge, oversized white lips.

Secondly, it takes about five seconds to see through this "American Folk Art" trend. As Oscar Wilde said, "America is the first country to go from barbarism to decadence with no civilization in between." Obviously, you have to take that with a grain of salt, but America has never had a huge, legitimate folk art tradition except on things like quilts (or pincushions) that get used and worn out. I'm convinced (and I come from Amish country, where you can't spit without hitting a craft store, so I know) that most American folk art always has been made to be sold to tourists. The thought of some white people making "black" folk art to sell to other people because it's "quaint" or "soulful" or whatever you want to call it, is pretty appalling. The reason people buy folk art is because of its nostalgic properties. What kind of message are white people sending by making and buying this stuff? "Ahh...for the good ol' days when there was a mammy in every white kitchen."

Look, it's not cute, it's not cool, and while they may seem like the good ol' days to you, that's not how everyone sees it.
I'm all for preserving the history of black oppression in this country. When white people don't see it, they forget about it, and then you have people saying stuff like, "There isn't any racism in this country anymore. Get over it." Preserving something like that pincushion is important (although it should probably be in a museum instead of an online store), but making or buying stuff like that is not the same as keeping around a grim reminder of black oppression, it's putting a happy face on it.

So that's my gripe for the day. Hopefully I'll have something else to write about soon, perhaps more about Wordsworth.