I Hope This Girl Runs for Office Someday

Rappers' Delight

Voices of protest are popping up here and there, ever so slowly, to register their complaints about the woman-hating lyrics and culture of some popular rap music. In the last year the protests have come from inside hip-hop culture, where it should have the most impact (no one is going to listen to a bunch of white middle class intellectuals, especially women, as a general rule).

This latest piece is by a teenage girl from Ohio, a rap fan and feminist struggling with this cultural conflict. This excerpt especially warmed my heart, because it is directly opposed to the idea that cultural expressions like art don't influence attitudes and behavior. You know, the folks who claim that watching violent movies 10 hours a day since age 5 doesn't affect them in any way.

'Instead of simply promoting fads like Lacoste shirts and Cristal, through their music, rappers are spreading their views on women to an audience of teenage boys larger than Fat Joe's waistline, and I feel the effects everywhere I go.

From the school hallway, where on more than one occasion I have heard comments about the way I fit in my jeans, to the mall parking lot where pick-up lines usually begin with "Ooh, sexy ... " teenage boys express the same misogynistic sentiments as their rapping idols. I know that music is not the only driving force behind their behavior, but I believe rap's influence on my peers is stronger than the light reflecting off Jay-Z's ice.'

Say it!! But I am bothered by the sense of hopelessness (she calls it her hope, but I think it's actually pretty defeatist) in her conclusion, though. I don't expect this 17-year-old to have a solution, but if feminist teens are feeling hopeless, what hope do we have? On the other hand, just the fact that she wrote this and that it appeared on Alternet gives me tons of hope. Hope shmope. Always hoping things will get better, aren't we.

'I'll just hope that one day in the spirit of MC Lyte and Ms. Melodie, the future of popular radio will include new songs that don't make me want to alert NOW.'

A bunch of people responded to her on Alternet with brilliant suggestions like "change the radio station," and "listen to other kinds of rap and/or musical genres that don't degrade women." Totally missing the point, they are.

Will this song become relevant again?

This is a song written by the New Haven Women's Liberation Rock Band and released on their only album, Mountain Moving Day, recorded with the Chicago Women's Liberation Rock Band in 1972. The album has recently been re-released with the addition of two songs by Le Tigre.

ABORTION SONG

We're talkin' about abortion, it's against the law

But we know that it's our right

Control of our bodies we are going to will

We've got to get together and fight

They tell us to get married and have three or four kids
Change the diapers, be a good wife
But we will decide how many children to bear
We've got to control our own life

(Chorus)

Free our sisters, abortion is our right

Free our sisters, abortion is our right

We're talkin' about abortion it's as old as time
Hidden in fear and pain
The witches began it, they were burned at the stake
For helping sisters break their chains

Next came the butchers with their blood-stained hands
We've lost too many sisters that way
Now you go to the doctors and ask them to help
They say come back another day

(Chorus)

We're talkin' about abortion, gonna change the law
And make a better way
Those men with the power got to bend or break
They've got some heavy dues to pay

(Chorus)

Words & music: New Haven Women's Liberation Rock Band (1972)

S-K disappears from ACL lineup

So did anyone notice that Sleater-Kinney is no longer playing at the ACL Festival? That was a rather silent cancellation there. And it makes the lineup even more skewed to the boys. Sigh. I think it's better than SXSW's record on the gender front though. Silver Zephyr and I were once going to painstakingly research the actual gender ratio of SXSW bands - oh how ambitious we once were.

I'm working on a review of Sleater-Kinney's new record, The Woods, right now. It's a bit scary to write but should be up on Girlstown Productions soon. There are actually several new reviews up on the site lately: Sick Bees, Lali Puna, Gang Gang Dance, and a live review of last weeks' The Willowz show by yours truly. Ok, ok, so I comment more on how people look than what they sound like...I never claimed to be a professional music critic. I am a music fan who has certain detailed knowledge of a very specific slice of the indie scene, that from the pacific northwest, and not much else. And I am especially a fan of the lady musicians who defy all barriers and play some mean rock and roll through the pathetic cries of 'show us your tits.' Sleater-Kinney used to sell tee shirts that said "Show Me Your Riffs."

Look out for my review of this Thursday's Le Tigre show! Hopefully I can get close enough for some pictures without greasy heads in the foreground.

New Territory

Just a quick update -- the last 10 days have been high drama and high anxiety for me. First, we made the move across town and have been dealing with unpacking and storing, sorting, cleaning, organizing, arranging, etc. and getting used to the new space. In the middle of that, Silver Zephyr had a C-section, and baby Frankie (not to be confused with doggie Frankie) had to have a complicated and fairly rare surgery the next day -- he seems to be doing much much better now, though!. And then in the middle of all that, I found out that my parents, in their 39th year of marriage, are getting divorced. I have been spending a lot of time on the phone with my family, and dealing with my own conflicted feelings, and not feeling like interacting too much socially. It's bizarre to be going through this in my 30s. It's really hard no matter the age. I never thought this would actually happen, but it's probably for the best. I hope my mom truly comes into her own and finds some peace.

Do I Really Need to Hang On to Those Skis?

The move went down on Sunday with the help of ATX Moving (highly recommended). It took 3 men four hours from start to finish, and they were a little peeved when they saw all the stairs at the Kirkwood place - apparently we technically lived in a third floor apartment rather than the second floor we thought we lived in. We gave them power-ade and when they were done they hosed themselves off and we all drank a lonestar. Moving always humbles me because I am forced to come to terms with the fact that I have a lot of crap. Boxes and boxes of random odds and ends that taunt me in their 88% uselessness. It's that 12% potential usefulness that keeps me hanging on. I did throw away and donate bags of stuff this time around, but I am trying to do more. This morning I left my downhill ski boots at the Salvation Army on S. Congress. I actually felt pangs as I drove away, and saw my boots receding in the distance. Where will they end up? Those boots took me down many a mountain, and I don't want them to end up on a scrap heap somewhere . Who in Texas could possibly appreciate them?

So now I'm left with a pair of downhill Rossignol and a pair of Karhu cross-country racing skis. I've had them since the late 1980s. Seriously. I also have a 17" computer monitor that I brought with me from Seattle, and haven't used or wanted to use it in three years. A perfectly good monitor, but it's humongous and in its original box takes up a lot of space. I'm sitting here staring at coffee-table cat books, an old fleece pillow, a broken cat toy, 10-pound hand weights, a piece of denim cloth that I thought would make good patch material (8 years ago), a beanie baby (a pug doggie) given to me by my mom about 10 years ago, a box of wool gloves, mittens, and hats, a bag of thick wool socks, and at least one box of greeting cards sent to me over the years by my parents and assorted close friends. And that's just what I can see from where I'm sitting. The personal mementos are the hardest. I've been pack-ratting this stuff around for 15 years at least, driven by the fear that when I'm an old woman I will forget everything that ever happened to me and thus will need 10 boxes (projected estimate) of reminders so I can go sift through it and remember that weekend trip I took to Boulder Colorado in 1994. Sigh.

One more day of cleaning the old apartment and then we're done. We're living out of boxes at the new place but the cable is all hooked up and I have my wireless internet again so all is well. Frankie has her very own fenced front yard all to herself (she's been sharing with 1 - 3 other dogs the last two years), and she wants to play ball all day. O.F. and Stella adjusted fairly quickly but Pepe needs some more time. The first thing he did is get himself stuck behind the refridgerator. He was able to get himself out though, but not before I panicked realizing there was no human way to move the fridge. When the cable person was here doing the hookup both Stella and Pepe hid behind the fridge for a couple of hours - I thought they were going to pass out from the heat and be too weak to jump back out -- Stella came out with some coaxing but Pepe stayed down in there for like two more hours. Weirdo.

Other than that I'm having trouble finding a place for the litter box. My bathroom hardware accessories from restoration hardware arrived today - I can't wait to install them. The front door area is festering with mosquitoes that attack even in broad sunlight - anyone know how to control them other than getting rid of standing water (which there is none). I am very scattered and overwhelmed! I am hoping no one at the Coww is missing me this week.

I'm packing, really, I am

Here I am knee-deep in boxes and random shit and I all of a sudden have time to post blog entries and update Girlstown Productions. Speaking of that, we're experiencing a bit of a lull while Return of the Silver Zephyr is in the hospital trying to keep the kid from being born prematurely and I take care of my move and my chronic laziness. We're working on recruiting new writers who will contribute music reviews and feature articles, so watch for that in the next few weeks!

More changes are in the works this Fall, as I am on track to re-join the world of the gainfully employed while I finish (uhhh, start) my dissertation. It's not official yet, but if it comes through I will certainly welcome the opportunity to leave a certain foundation (we'll call it the "Cow Foundation" ) which didn't live up to its potential for me. It's really too bad, because the potential is truly there. It just depends on what people/personalities occupy the positions of power and how they view graduate education, as well as the organizational upheaval going on. I'm being a little vague here, yes. It was better than being a T.A. though!

Here's to the many sushi dinners that may be in my future...

Punditry

So Jerry Springer and Al Franken don't think Bush is going to try to appoint an extremist judge to the supreme court (i.e. an anti-Roe judge). Jerry thinks it would be the "end of the Republican Party," and Al thinks it would create too much controversy and it would be a stupid decision politically. Jerry admits he may be a bit too optimistic, but really feels that the counter-revolution this would spark would be too much for the Republicorns. I tend to think that Bush isn't afraid of controversy, and likes to be seen as making the tough, unpopular, but "right" decisions. I also keep seeing in print that the current court is 6-3 for Roe, when all the pro-choice fundraising propaganda - whoops I mean literature - I get consistently says 5-4. So they would actually need Rhenquist and one other pro-Roe judge in addition to O'Connor to resign before it could be overturned.

Oh and can I just say I really like Jerry Springer's show on Air America? Plus he totally pokes fun at himself for his TV show.

So what have the other pundits and wonks been saying? Anyone watching Fox to see what their take is?

Wanted: one female centrist supreme court nominee

The New York Times has quickie profiles of eight potential nominees (how they arrived at these particular eight is not known) to replace O'Connor. To my horror, they are ALL men and almost all white. The fact that they're all conservative is a moot issue. Now we can only hope for some diversity.

We could be royally screwed here. Could we? It may be naive optimism, but I still have a hard time believing that Roe could be overturned. They've upheld it twice already, and the court does not like to take back prior decisions (the whole stare decisis thing). But I just know GW is going to express-lane an activist judge to the bench and so our only hope now is the Democrats' filibustering power, which can be taken away by the republicorn majority if they feel the democrats are being too stubborn.

Vancouver B.C. is looking veeeery good to me right now.

Remembering Beth

Today is the one-year anniversary of Beth Westbrook's death from complications of appendicitis at the hands of Seton Central. I still think about Beth a lot. She would be soooo pissed about the anti-gay marriage legislation in Texas right now. I know she would have been up at the Capitol all spring lobbying against the gaggle of anti-gay bills we faced this session. And I wonder if Ladyfest TX 2005 might have happened if she had been around. She's just missed, plain as that.

Her website is still up, just as she left it on June 29, 2004.

Mega-Noodle vs. Basic-Noodle: You Decide

M. and I recently found ourselves on our way to a pool but without our trusted floaties which are sitting in our garage getting moldy. To remedy the situation i suggested we stop in at target and get us a couple of the much-beloved and cheap-in-a-pinch foam noodles. But, of course, it wasn't that simple. Choices abound in the world of foam noodle pool toys. I was instantly drawn to the purple "Mega-Noodle." A little larger in diameter, and with ridges all the way down, it was about $1.50 more than its cousin, the "Basic Noodle." We decided to get one of each and test-drive them.

Essentially, the Mega-Noodle has a little more buoyancy so you can sit on it and not sink down to your neck in the water. However, it is not as flexible as the softer, more malleable Basic Noodle, and after a while it starts to get a bit uncomfortable if you are holding it under your arms. I found that if you have really good balance you can actually straddle the Mega-Noodle and lean back on it with pretty decent support. Works in a pinch if you forgot your pool lounger. In the end, M. prefers the more flexible Basic Noodle and I prefer the Mega for its stronger float capacity. And there you have it.

Paradox of the day

Well, yesterday to be precise:

The driver of a Honda Hybrid vehicle throwing a cigarette butt out the window of the car.

I still can't get used to the sight of people throwing ANYTHING out of their car windows (I never saw someone throw actual garbage out the window until I moved to Texas). But doing it while driving a vehicle designed to have less impact on the environment???

The making of a true hero

Some of you may be following this case, which has received international attention in the last three years. In 2002, Mukhtaran Bibi was publicly gang-raped by four men in her village as punishment for something her brother was accused of doing. In an unprecedented move, Ms. Bibi took her attackers to court where they were tried and convicted under anti-terrorism laws. She was awarded monetary damages, and used the money to open an elementary school in her village, which she started attending. Here's what happened next:

2004:
Two years after the gang rape, two men of the Matsoi tribe were
sentenced to imprisonment for sodomising Shakur, Mukhtaran's 12 yr old brother.

March 2005:
The Multan bench of the Lahore High Court acquitted five of the six convicts, while deciding appeals against the judgement of the anti-terrorism court. The death sentence of the sixth convict was changed into life term. Mukhtaran is invited to speak in the U.S.

June 2005
Rapists freed and Mukhtaran is under House arrest. Mukhtaran is put on Exit control list(ECL). International buzz about the case grows; Pakistani citizens are embarrassed about the negative P.R. Mukhtaran is removed from ECL list, but her passport is seized.

The Asian-American Network Against Abuse of Women, the organization that had invited Mukhtaran Bibi to speak in the U.S., is organizing protests in New York and D.C. this week. At this website you can send a letter to Pakistani President Musharraf (I just did!).

Also see the New York Times columns on the subject written by Nicholas Kristof.

Pop Science Rears Its Ugly Head

For some fantastic commentary on today's exciting new scientific discovery - that women's brains cease to function during orgasm -- check out this post from I Blame the Patriarchy.

Newsflash: Males and females are more biologically similar than they are different.

Even their birth control pill will be better

From www.statesman.com article on new research to develop a birth control pill for men:

"The researchers plan to test about a half-million chemical compounds to find a pill that does not involve hormones that men could take weekly or monthly. They also hope to find something that is close to 100 percent effective and has no risky side effects."

Well, shit. How nice that they are committed to finding a safe and effectve pill for men. The article went on to say that hormone-based (i.e. testosterone) pills for men have been tested but there are concerns about elevated cholesterol and cancer growth. Hello, women have been taking the pill since the 1960s and no one seems to give a shit about the long-term side effects of that!! The largest uncontrolled experiment in history, I once heard it called.

Woman-hating crap to start the week off right

While searching for info on the re-authorization of the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA), I encountered this lovely blog called "Men's News Daily." (They're against re-authorization of VAWA, by the way). I just HAD to read one entry, alluringly titled: Feminists and Fundamentalists: The Two-Front War on Men." There are so many misogynistic gems in here it's hard to convey.

Know thine enemy, yes?

Nicole, I totally understand now.

I can't stop reading Defamer for all the latest on the Cruise-Holmes saga. Radar Online had this to report on Cruise's auditioning of Scarlett Johansson mere weeks before he snared Holmes:

"After striking out with Johansson, Cruise reportedly turned his attentions to 24-year-old Jessica Alba, 22-year-old Kate Bosworth, and 18-year-old Lindsay Lohan, before settling on the 26-year-old Holmes. As far we know, Cruise’s War of the Worlds co-star, Dakota Fanning, was never under consideration."


Also, just so ya know, most of my politically-oriented postings and links are in the politics section of Girlstown Productions.

The Epoxies come to town!

The Epoxies play this Saturday June 18th at The Backroom. Come get microwaved and radiated with fuzzed-out heart-pounding synth-driven and irresistable dance-punk songs that will remind you of that cool girl from high school in the 80s who wore duct-tape mini-skirts, had killer robot dance moves, and didn't give a shit what anyone thought.

Say it!

I just found the most awesomest blog, I Blame the Patriarchy. It is so smartly written and she has a penchant for photographing insects and what she has for dinner. Plus, she lives in Austin.

It seems that over the last 20 years it has almost become "quaint" to mention patriarchy as a cause of anything...even in sociology! I mentioned the term "sexism" in a research proposal last year as a legitimate concept that had bearing on a theory I wanted to test and the professor was questioning its usefulness. I admit it is difficult to operationalize but why are sociologists so afraid to talk about it? It's like sexism is so 70's or something. So anyway I love this woman's blog because she unapologetically points out the concrete ways male supremacy operates in day to day life to fuck us over. Plus the insect identification thing reminds me of an entymologist I knew long ago, and miss.

Must...have...this...purse

are we socialized to be 'clinging-vine wives'?

"My own observations suggest that the changing status of (and expectations for) women plays a role [in the increase in anorexia nervosa]. Girls whose early upbringing has prepared them to become 'clinging-vine' wives suddenly are expected at adolescence to prove themselves as women of achievement. This seems to create a servere personal self-doubt and basic uncertainty. In their submissive way, they 'choose' the fashionable dictum to be slim as a way of proving themselves as deserving of respect."
--Hilde Bruch, 'Four decades of eating disorders'

A sort of identity conflict it would seem. What do you think of this explanation of eating disorders in girls?

I should be working right now...

The digital camera arrived today (yay!) so there will be exciting pictures dotting my blog from now on. i can't wait to illustrate entries - for instance, wouldn't my anecdote about finding the roach on the catfood container have been TONS better with a photo??

Moving update: We're moving to "lower Travis Heights" which is that area by Jo's Coffee but on the east side of S. Congress, off of Academy. It sounds snooty-patooty, but our place isn't. It does have a dishwasher though, so that's kind of chi-chi for us.

Unrelated aside: (Warning! Trite "I saw them before they were famous" comment ahead!) It weirds me out to see Modest Mouse on the freaking O.C.- they re-aired that episode tonight. I DID used to see their shows pre-fame when I was living in Seattle in the late 90s, and used to hear them on college radio in Pullman in '95. There was a DJ there at the time who LOVED them and when I'd call in requests he referred to me as "Secret Mouse." Even then folks knew they were going to be big. Car-commercial big? We didn't predict that.

at least jar-jar didn't have a speaking role

So is the new star wars movie some sort of commentary on the rise and fall of the united states? here's one commentator that seems to think so: Everyone Loves Vader

I saw the movie yesterday, and here's what seemed fairly straightforward to me - Anakin-soon-to-become-Darth Vader sounding a lot like Bush:

Anakin: "If you are not with me, you are my enemy."
Obi-wan: "Only Sith Lords deal in absolutes."

let the over-analyzing begin.

overall the movie was ok if you like lots of light sabre fighting (why does that still impress everybody? it's only fun for me when yoda does it, cuz i like to see muppets kick ass)- the shameless pandering for cheap laughs (lucas usually has multiple instances of these) was the wookie scene where they made "tarzan" sounds. Ugh.

Reality blogging?

And tech culture keeps chugging along...now bloggers have a reality-show type competition ("Ultimate Blogger")in which they are given different "challenges" and get judged on who has the best blog entry in response to the challenge. O. my. god.

Marisa Meltzer (formerly of Bitch Magazine) has a funny piece on this perhaps inevitable incarnation of blogging - here's an excerpt that made me laugh:

"The finalists' blog entries in response to each challenge force both the judges and the audience to address the larger question of what constitutes good internet content. Is the rather dadaist video Ritchey posted of a snail crawling juxtaposed with her eating cereal better than Lyova's Nabokovesque paean to lost love?"

"Voted Off the Internet"

My new personal library of dusty old books

So one thing that I really cherished about my grandmother and visiting her was her book collection. I've always been a bookworm, so as far back as I can remember my visits would include long afternoons alone in the the sitting room looking at beautiful old books - poetry, history, novels, and vintage books on etiquette, speech, and interior decorating!

When I was up there in May, I got to pick out some of her books to take home with me, to become part of my own library. Among the gems: Emerson's Essays, signed by my great-grandfather in 1894 in New York City; Tennyson's Poems (1925), leather-bound and signed by my grandmother's high school friend Alice who gave the book to her as a graduation present in 1928 in Jamaica, NY. Alice went on to become an M.D. at the Presbyterian hospital in NYC (cool!); an illustrated edition of Longfellow's Evangeline, with a suede cover - appears to be a first edition (no date); a 1926 edition of Moby Dick; a copy of Hard Times by Dickens; Thoughts for Every-Day Living by Dr. Maltbie Babcock (1901); Mark Twain's Roughing It and Mark Twain in Eruption. There is also a huge book of collected British and American poems, and 'Popular Home Decorating' circa 1940s which I rescued from the attic bedroom. I am so fortunate to have these treasures...when I leaf through them the smell of the dusty yellowed pages takes me back to her house on the ranch and the memories of those long quiet afternoons.

Catching up...

So quite a bit has happened already since I got back into town. Ms. Led came on Sunday May 29, and we hung out on the sofa at Lovejoy's before the show and got caught up while it poured outside. Marshall wowed Peg with his detailed knowledge of Journey's discography down to the cover art, which Matt also appeared highly amused by. Lesli filled me in on the travails of being a third-year law student, and Steph and I talked about our pets. Later, they played to a sparse Emo's crowd. It made me sad! It was Sunday of memorial day weekend, plus it had rained pretty hard that night so all those things combined to make it The Night All of Austin Flaked. The opening bands didn't stick around, and even the people that had arranged for the band to crash at their place after the show didn't show up!! That's so lame.

So at 2am the decision was made that Lesli and crew would follow us back to our place where they could get some z's for a couple hours. I was equal parts horrified (at the prospect of my heroes seeing the apartment we hadn't cleaned in days) and honored. I was kinda drunk so before I knew it I was ferociously digging in our bathroom shelves for a couple of clean pillow cases. I swear I did that for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile Marshall is calmly lounging in the living room with Lesli and Steph. They got to sleep on the old futon which is akin to sleeping on a pile of hard sand. Poor girls. I have a Ms. Led poster hanging in the bathroom (along with the Butchies and Sleater-Kinney) so hopefully they felt welcomed! They played a new song ('Jump, Dammit') and closed with a cover of Le Tigre's 'Deceptacon' - kickass! Thanks G$ and Laura for coming to the show!
......
This morning my first move was to reach down and open the lid on the cat food container which we keep in the bedroom. My hand actually touched a big tree roach that was hanging out on the lid! Aaagh! Marshall heard the word 'roach' groggily in his sleep and sprang into action (he is the official bug wrangler, if Pepe fails us, which he obviously did). We've decided to move out of our lovely vintage duplex - unrelated to the roaches, I swear - it's a little too vintage for the amount they were raising our rent to, so we gave notice today. I will most miss the huge & plentiful windows looking out into the oak trees, and the mint green tiled bathroom. We're most likely moving to a cute duplex (again) off of Academy St. in Travis Heights. 5 minute walk to Jo's Coffee. The other contender is a whole house (painted mint green!) further south off S. Congress and St. Elmo (just past Ben White). We're looking at the house tomorrow to see if it's worth being further south. But, in any case, it looks like we're heading to South Austin for sure!! It's not just a zip code, ya know.

The last best place

Another day, another pile of cat barf to clean up. Actually, Stella hasn't been ralfing as much lately because we've been giving her fresh cat grass more regularly. She mows that stuff down, I'm tellin' ya. She does have the "scarf 'n barf" syndrome as one vet so eloquently put it. When she gets nervous or excited she heads for the food bowl and gulps down some kibble, barely chewing it, tail twitching, purring...it's a whole thing she does. Anyway.

So I promised some tall tales from Montana, "The Last Best Place" as their tourism department likes to say. Curiously, Alaska is "The Last Frontier," so I seem to end up in these ends-of-the-earth type places chock full of leave-us-alone libertarians. But these regions also attract people who love mountains, alpine forests, native plants and wildflowers, rushing rivers (i.e. not the dammed-up ones seen here in Texas), undisturbed wildlife like moose, bear, and all sorts of birds. They bike, run, ski, and hike as if their lives depend on it, and I believe it does. My mom is one. But I digress.

The occasion for my trip was my grandmother's passing. This is a big deal around these parts, as she had lived in the Missoula/Arlee area for over 70 years and just about everyone knew her. The days leading up to the memorial were kind of a blur, filled with comparison shopping for geraniums and picking my brother up from the airport and eating out and napping. The memorial took place on my grandmother's ranch, with rows of folding chairs set up in front of the pond and the barn, with the house in the background. I'd say about 200 people were there. It was the one beautiful & sunny day complete with puffy white clouds in a string of grey/rainy days, and everyone commented on how meaningful this was, as if Cornelia perhaps had something to do with it. My brother provided some of the music during the program, playing trumpet with a piano accompanist: a tune by Handel, the hymns Rock of Ages & Nearer My God to Thee, and, inexplicably, America the Beautiful. That one seemed more appropriate for a baseball game, but that was what my dad wanted. The trumpet sounded great outside - that instrument can sound so sad!

I got up and spoke at the podium after my dad and aunt, and talked about how Cornelia's independence, activism, and love of animals influenced me as a little girl. She was essentially the only grandparent I had, as my grandfather died before I was born and my mom's side of the family resided (and still does) in South America during my youth. The community had banded together and cooked up a ton of food - assorted casseroles, lasagnas, pasta salads, and an entire table of desserts - quite impressive. I met a zillion people who knew my grandmother better than I ever did, too. The most poignant were the alumni of the bunkhouse, most of whom had traveled to be there (one came from Wisconsin). Two of them got up and spoke about how much Cornelia had meant to them - sometimes they only stayed in the bunkhouse for a few months, but kept visiting and writing over 30 years. She housed artists, musicians, and all sorts of eccentric creative people over the years, rent-free in exchange for chores (there was no running water in the bunkhouse, but no matter).

The occasion was also a family reunion of sorts, which we've never had. My five first cousins were there, and I met second cousins and once-removed cousins (I can never remember the difference). None of us really "knows" one another, since we all grew up far apart plus we're all decades apart in age, which makes for a weird vibe. What the heck do you talk about? After all the guests and extended family left a few of us built a fire in the outdoor fireplace and broke out some beers. Now that was more my speed! My dad, uncle, and dad's old friend Bart decided to use some explosives they had lying around to blow up a stump that was out in the field next to the yard, so that was definitely exciting. I think Cornelia would have loved that, while feigning disapproval.

I did have a small personal triumph: one of my cousins, in his 50s, had bet me 13 years ago that the next time he saw me I would be married. At the time, in 1992, I was a junior in college, and insisted that marriage was just not in the cards for me as I saw no point in it. He gave me that "oh it's just a phase and you'll see, it happens to us all." Heh! The first thing he says when he sees me is "I guess I owe you $5." Damn right! It's funny though, because he doesn't seem to get that there's a middle ground between being "single" and being "married." I got the distinct feeling that he missed the entire point of my rebellion. I'm like, "I'm not anti-relationship, it's just that I have no need to be married." He's like, "yeah I can see the benefits of being single." Huh?? Oh well. I let him keep the $5.

MonkeyWrench Cafe Grand Opening!

This just in from Brea:

Saturday June 4th
Noon to 8 pm
Come by the Grand Opening of the MonkeyWrench Books Cafe. Same politics but add coffee!
We'll be serving coffee, tea, Good Flow juice, Blue Sky, and Celeste's vegan treats. Plus, a tent sale all day!

110 E. North Loop (as always)

The most upsetting news today is that next fall, Veronica Mars (UPN) will be airing in the same time slot as Lost (ABC), Alias (ABC) will be on during the O.C. (Fox), and the West Wing is on during Cold Case (CBS). O what am I to do?? The O.C. will be the first one to go - that's just something I watch if I'm home and remember. I'm too poor to get a TiVO so Marshall and I will have all summer to plan our carefully honed VCR gymnastics skills.

I am not interested in any new shows except for Commander in Chief, starring Geena Davis as the president!! Much kick-ass potential here. Let's hope they don't fuck it up.

This summer, Bravo is showing a second season of the hair salon reality show "Blowout," which was soooo juicy good. That Jonathan guy is such a condescending ass and he knows it! And he charges like $600 for a haircut! Last season they showed him trying to open up a new salon in Beverly Hills and all the drama between the stylists and him. And they showed him cutting Margaret Cho's hair. This is good T.V.

And check out this handy season finale cliffhanger review!

Everything's pink in Miami

Whoo-wee. Where to start. In the last couple of weeks I've been to Miami, where the weather was lovely and cool but the drivers are fast and mean and there are a lot of 'em, and Missoula. But first Miami. First of all, let me say that I do enjoy all the pink and orange houses in this city. These paint colors would probably look very weird anywhere else but how fun! The fam and I went on a tour of the bay and looked at all the homes of the rich and famous, including Rosie O' Donnell, Shaquille O'Neal (who had a foot-high figurine likeness of himself perched on his dock to greet the passing tour boats), and the homes formerly occupied by Vanilla Ice and Don Johnson. Rad. It's actually sickening that middle america pays to go see these unimaginably expensive homes of celebrities that THEY MADE RICH in the first place!! I was well aware of the absurdity and just tried to enjoy being out on the water. There's just something weird about the tourist activity of viewing things that you will never in a million years ever come close to having yourself. Is it marketing for the american dream? - or the capitalist's wet dream, more like.

We also visited Miami Beach, which is mainly known as the place where Versace was murdered, and I found the actual beach to be kind of gross with people in various stages of undress and a couple that I can verify was engaged in unabashed foreplay involving "private parts" in public. Tacky! Mom still wanted to take pictures and apparently hadn't noticed anything untoward so I tried my best to not look horrified as we snapped some family photos looking very out of place amidst the tan languid bodies laying about.

After the beach we wandered down the street to an open-air cafe (the third one we tried that my mom was convinced we'd all be satisfied with) where I proceeded to order a huge alcoholic drink (it was called a "Bahama Mama," ugh) served in a cheap plastic "hurricane"-style cup like you get in New Orleans. It tasted crappy but the four different kinds of alcohol gave me a nice buzz about halfway through, which played a key role in my ability to maintain a pleasant and blissfully oblivious demeanor around the folks.

My bro got all graduated and stuff (D.M.A., not a Ph.D., mind you) and we went to a swanky dinner at the swanky old Biltmore Hotel in Coral Gables. Super vintage-glam so I was right at home. It had a gargantuan pool, in fact the largest hotel pool in the continental united states, how 'bout that. The food was awesome, too - pan-seared and oven-roasted scallops, even the vegetable sides were incredibly perfect. You know, if you're ever in Miami. Good luck to Pete as he tries to find a college who wants to hire a trumpet professor.

Next up: the Montana report.

Spot on

I really like finding out people's stories. You know, where they've been, what they've done, what experiences have shaped them into who they are today. It's especially fun when a person's history is prolific but not talked about much, and he or she shows up day after day at his or her job minding their own business while all the youngsters mill about self-importantly oblivious to the royalty in their midst. Such a person is Spot. He currently works the door at Lovejoy's, and has a standing happy hour gig at Beerland on Tuesdays with Charlie (of Charlie's Holy Happy Hour).

Marshall had always told me that Spot was heavily involved in the punk rock scene years ago, but the details ended there. Recently I was looking up Lovejoys' street address on the internet and Spot's website came up in the search; I ended up searching out more little tidbits that pieced together Spot's former life as producer and engineer of some of the most important punk underground records of the 1980s, including Black Flag, Husker Du (he co-produced Zen Arcade), Meat Puppets, Minutemen, the Descendants, and the Misfits.

A multi-instrumentalist and songwriter, he does his own thing now and apparently doesn't like to talk about his place in the punk rock canon. So if you are a punk rock history buff or just curious about people here are some links where you can surreptitiously do your own investigation. Oh - and go see him on Tuesdays from 7 to 9 at Beerland.

"X Marks the Spot" (article in the Denver Westword)

Excerpt from the book "Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground 1981 - 1991" by Michael Azerrad (a historical primer on Black Flag)

Spot's website

Stories to read of a bittersweet nature

There was a feature story written about my grandmother in The Missoulian, on May 6:

Life of Cornelia Francis Spoke Volumes

This is a story my grandmother would have appreciated:

Judge Awards $45,480 in Cat's Death

The New Asylums

On the show "Frontline," PBS, Tuesday May 10:

PBS explores the question, Are America's jails and prisons the new asylums? Nearly 500,000 mentally ill persons are currently incarcerated and corrections personnel are typically unprepared to handle the unique needs of this population. Frontline took cameras inside Ohio's prison system for what they promise is a rare look at the mental health-criminal justice issue. Should be very interesting.

The New Asylums - on Frontline

My new favorite cartoon is...

Hi Hi PuffyAmiYumi !!!!

Check it out

Random musings

Today I am wearing a pair of linen pants I've had for several years and I realized that they are high-waters. The question is, have they always been high-waters or are they just high-waters by today's standards?

I am hooked on this sandwich that Whole Foods makes called the "Barton Springs." It has in-house roasted turkey, brie, fig spread, and spring mix greens on a big hoagie. It's that fig-spread - totally addictive.

Bill Clinton was in town today - I saw a bunch of people wandering around Whole Foods clutching their copies of "My Life." Sigh. Gotta love Bill.

Next week I am going to Miami to watch my older brother get his Doctorate of Musical Arts (D.M.A.) from University of Miami. Then the following week the family meets up again in Missoula, Montana for my grandmother's memorial. I'm staying a whole week since I haven't visited in like four years. Missoula's this great hippie town, kind of like Boulder used to be before it got hijacked by rich people.

Obituary from The Missoulian, May 2, 2005:

ARLEE - Cornelia Hawkins Klittke Francis, a dedicated teacher, influential community member and longtime ranch woman, passed away at the family ranch in the Jocko Valley on Saturday, April 30, 2005. She was 96.

Cornelia was born to Herman and Cora Klittke on Jan. 18, 1909, in Williams Bridge, N.Y.

When Cornelia was 10 months old, her family left the comforts of their home and boarded a freight car with their belongings to travel to the prairies of Saskatchewan where they homesteaded 640 acres. Home there would be a rudimentary but weatherproof house built by her father. Cornelia drove workhorses with her father and was home-schooled by her mother. She remembered visits to the homestead from red-uniformed Royal Canadian Mounted Police and Christmases celebrated with a homemade tree made of lath.

At age 13, her parents decided that Cornelia should return to Jamaica, N.Y., to live with family friends and pursue a formal education. She entered eighth grade in public school. It was her first time in a classroom, and she recalled this experience with fond memories, true to Cornelia's sense of adventure and her desire to learn.

Cornelia graduated from Jamaica High School in January 1928. She worked briefly for McGraw Hill Publishing House in New York City before returning to the West to enroll at the University of Montana to study under Dean A.L. Stone, the first dean of the journalism school, and the prominent English professor H.G. Merriam. She pursued degrees in journalism and creative writing, graduating in June 1932.

That same year, Cornelia married Hiram Francis and moved to his ranch in the Jocko Valley. It was here that their three children were born and reared. Cornelia energetically participated in ranch life. She cherished memories of riding the cattle range in LaMoose Canyon. She created a warm, wholesome environment for her family and those who came to visit.

In 1959 after additional study at UM, Cornelia accepted a teaching position at Arlee High School, where she taught English, journalism and drama for 13 years.

A tireless and energetic teacher, she shared with her students her love of language, literature and writing. In 1966 she was named the Montana Journalism Teacher of the Year.

During her years of teaching and following her retirement in 1972, she was a feature writer for the Missoulian and Lake County Leader.

After the death of her husband in l966, Cornelia spent the next 39 years managing the ranch. Her life abounded with family, friendships, her pets and her love for nature and the beauty of her rural environs. Her ranch was a welcome respite for visitors of all ages.

She was active in the founding and lifetime member of the Arlee Jocko Museum and was a charter member of the Fort Connah Restoration Society. She was a member of Eastern Star, Alpha Alta Kappa and the Arlee Methodist Church.

Cornelia is remembered for her independent spirit, her sense of humor, commitment to land stewardship and to the betterment of her community. Her love of life and hospitality were apparent throughout her life.

Her family extends gratitude to the loving caregivers, community of friends and Partners in Home Care Hospice. All made it possible for her to remain in the home where she had lived for 73 years.

Cornelia was preceded in death by her husband Hiram, her sister Constance and her son Howard.

Survivors include her son Perry (Maria) Francis of Missoula; her daughter Emily (Mark) Lennon of Polson; daughter-in-law Betty Francis of Cape Canaveral, Fla.; one nephew; nine grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren.

An outdoor memorial service will be held Saturday, May 21, at 2 p.m. at the family ranch on 434 Hi Francis Road, Arlee.

In Cornelia's remembrance, donations may be made to Partners in Home Care Hospice, 2687 Palmer St., Missoula, MT 59808; Arlee Senior Citizens, 106 Wessinger St., Arlee, MT 59821; or Arlee Jocko Museum, Box 512, Arlee, MT 59821.

C. K. Francis, 1909 - 2005

My grandmother passed away this morning at her home in Arlee, Montana. She was 96. Born in New York but raised on the desolate prairie in Saskatchewan, her parents sent her to live with family friends in New York City in her early teens so she could have a better education and learn about the world. She returned to the West in 1928 to attend college at Montana State College (now the University of Montana) in Missoula - also my alma mater. She graduated with a degree in journalism in 1932, one of few women at that time to do so. She worked on a gorgeous ranch nestled in the Jocko Valley outside of Missoula in a little town called Arlee, which is on the Flathead Indian Reservation. She married the man who owned the ranch, and never left it - she lived on that ranch for over 70 years, the last 39 years by herself (my grandfather died in 1966). She loved literature, reading The New Yorker, and all animals.

I'll write more about Cornelia soon.

Dr. Gini! Paging Dr. Gini!

Congratulations to my good buddy Gini, who defended her dissertation yesterday!!! What a truly awesome event this is. To commemorate this milestone in her life we got together and kicked out some serious karaoke jams til 1am. Gini wowed us with selections from the Cranberries and Guns 'n Roses (she does a mean "Paradise City"), while Marshall tried out some David Bowie and Air Supply. Now if we can just get him to follow the words on the monitor.... My fave of the night had to be Katie singing "It's Raining Men." Nice. Laura displayed an uncanny knowledge of contemporary dance/hip-hop numbers. I got off to a shaky start with "You Can't Hurry Love" (too fast!) but recovered a bit on the Bangles' "Manic Monday." I think I may be hooked! Which is progress considering how traumatized I was by my first & last karaoke experience: in college in the early 90s, to "Bust-a-Move" by Sir Mix-a-Lot. Hoo boy.

Passover

I forgot to report that i went to my first Passover dinner last weekend - it wasn't the super-formal kind, but Gini did her best to explain some of the traditions and she did have reference material in case we wanted to learn more. We learned about how it's an anti-oppression holiday - how cool is that to have a whole holiday set aside to remember slavery and how wrong it is to oppress people for their religious or political beliefs. To illustrate this, scallions were passed around to symbolize the flogging endured by jewish slaves. M. proceeded to run around fake-flogging everyone which prompted K. to say, "I hate being a slave." Funny how the Christians don't recognize such things as anti-oppression, eh? Well, except for Jesus being the perpetual underdog and unjustly crucified I guess. I should stop talking about religion. But it was cool to go to the dinner because I have jewish ancestry on my mother's side, but it's been kept hush-hush and I never learned any of the traditions. My grandparents actually had to flee Germany because of their ethnicity in the 1930s, and while the immediate family members all survived (by fleeing), some of my grandparents' more distant relatives didn't make it.

so i've just discovered rosie o'donnell's blog, and it's really interesting. she writes these sort of clipped poetry-style entries that in total can be pretty powerful. i guess it's just interesting to read something so personal by a really famous person. i'm not famous at all and i find it hard to write personal things in this blog, so i don't know how she does it. This entry is about her decision to be a foster parent - a gay foster parent.

Why does watching a 65 year old man carefully folding his underwear at a laundromat make my heart break?

Edna Rocks

Thanks to Kim B. for sending me this gem:

The Prisoner

All right,
Go ahead!
What's in a name?
I guess I'll be locked into
As much as I am locked out of.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

(isn't it cool that we have time to read poetry now?)

Yippee!

Woo hoo! I passed comps and can now officially get on with life. The past few months have brought new developments in my consulting biz -- I'm going to be presenting a three-hour workshop in August at Austin'sGreenlights for Nonprofit Success on nonprofit program outcomes and evaluation! There is a chance that some consulting jobs might come my way after the workshop, which would be awesome. GENaustin also might contract with me to head up the evaluation of their after-school mentoring program, clubGEN. I should find out in the next month or so. It feels so good to get back into consulting - and it really makes me realize how much I learned at ORS before I came back to school. The skills I developed in my five years there with Jane, Marc, and Anne pretty much set me up so that I could be a reasonably competent independent consultant. Which isn't anything you can learn in a PhD program.

Post-Comps Fever

I am back from the land of comprehensive exams and quickly purging the memories of endless hours of studying and hair-pulling. My faculty committee meets this afternoon to discuss my exam and decide whether to pass me, pass me with conditions (i.e. re-write a section or two), pass me with "distinction," or not pass me at all. Nothing like a bunch of professors sitting around a room talking about your work to make you feel really jumpy and skittery. My supervisor at the Hogg said I looked "dazed" today. Just what you want to hear.

Last week was lovely, though - two days before the exam Anna gave me a survival kit in a "brief case" (a zippered pouch in the shape of a pair of tighty-whiteys) plus a lucky vinyl wrist cuff in wonder-woman colors. On the last day of the exam Marshall met Kim and I at El Chile (I am proud to say I had a top-shelf margarita in my hand no less than 30 minutes after leaving the exam) and gave us hilarious congratulatory cards. He also had a dozen roses waiting at home - awwwww. I proceeded to stay out the rest of the night and had a great time. Charlie even worked Kim and I into his holy happy hour act.

Marshall was awesome the last few months - he fed me, didn't get mad at me for not cleaning, came home early when he felt like staying out but I needed to go to bed early, stayed out late when I needed more study time, and even scooped the litter box a few times. Marshall is super rad but everyone already knows that. I am just giving some concrete evidence.

Hegemonic Femininity

I lied. Here I am again. Here is a handy term - feel free to try to work this into casual conversation.

Hegemonic Femininity:

"Simultaneously expected to behave and conform but not perform (at least not in subjects that 'really' matter, like physics, mathematics, biology, chemistry, and so forth), 'women learn that they are not as worthy, that they do not count as much, and that what competence they may have is usually restricted to a specialized sphere which does not rank high in the male scheme of values.'"

from Simpson and Ellis, "Doing Gender: Sorting Out the Caste and Crime Conundrum," Criminology,1995.

I probably won't be writing for a week or so while I am busy psyching myself up for comps next Monday and Tuesday, and I have been saving up several miscellaneous little nuggets to post here - so I will do that now and then I'll have no excuse but to get to work on this pile of readings on gender and crime.

First of all, if you are so inclined I highly encourage you to vote for Ms. Led for Best Seattle Indie Rock Band. The link above will take you to the online ballot for the Seattle Weekly Music Awards.

Next, if you are glued to the show Alias like I have been for four seasons, you might be interested in this reluctant critique by a fan at Alternet.org who, like all of us, must come to terms with the show's unrealistic, positive portrayal of the CIA (e.g. they hardly ever kill anybody and are always the "good guys"). But that's OK. I watch West Wing to pretend that Martin Sheen is actually the president, and I watch Alias to pretend that there actually is a Sydney Bristow who works for the CIA. It's all part of an elaborate coping mechanism.

And finally, I can't seem to find the article anymore but a couple of days ago the Austin American-Statesman reported on a rape trial where the defendant, who was representing himself, was allowed to directly question his accuser about her sexual history because the rape shield law was recently overturned. Since the 1980s these shield laws (most states had them) were in place to protect rape victims/survivors from being questioned unnecessarily about their sexual history on the stand, as they had been since time immemorial. Defense attorneys love nothing more than to show that the accuser and defendant had sex previously, or that the accuser has had sex in the past - because, don't you know that when you consent once that means you've consented to sex with that person in the future, whenever he wants? Or with anybody, for that matter? Of course. Good GOD this is scary.

The argument against these shield laws is that it inhibits the ability of a rape defendant to defend himself like other kinds of defendants. Ok, but do defendants accused of robbery ask their victims if they've carried money on them before? Have they previously given the defendant money willingly? These kinds of questions are pretty ridiculous in that context - as they are for rape.

Holy crap that's a lot of people!

Using International Women's day as a catalyst, around 30,000 people kicked off the start of a worldwide march for global women's rights in Sao Paolo, Brazil last month. The relay-style march will go through 50 countries, calling for a global equal rights charter. Fittingly, it ends in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso (formerly Upper Volta - I did a country report on it in 7th grade) a west African country with few protections for women (as a general rule: the poorer the country, the worse things get for women relative to men). Also see the Boston Globe.

So in case you or your family members or people you know think women's rights are so passe and "so 70's" and that we need to get over ourselves, it's instructive to look beyond the borders of our privileged shiny frosted cake that is the U.S. on the global picnic table:

-70 percent of the 1.3 billion people living in poverty are women (International Confederation of Free Trade Unions)

-The incidents of mass rape in war zones like the Congo, where the military and rebel fighters have raped tens of thousands of women and girls during the conflict in the east of the country, have gone virtually unpunished (Human Rights Watch, Africa Division)

And that's all I can bring myself to share today.

Girlstown Productions Launch Party!

O SXSW, Why Must You Be So Cruel?

Eleven hours of music every day for four days...by Sunday all I could do was nap for three hours and watch The Incredibles and eat cheezy poofs.

The assessment: Wristband (which I tried for the first time this year) totally not worth it. Most of the good bands I saw were at the free shows. I thought it would allow me to do more stuff with my friend who was visiting, but we ended up seeing different things anyway and if you weren't already in a venue by 11pm you weren't going to get in. Also not fun: hanging out with a drunken out of towner on a four-day drinking binge.

Impressive: The Kills, Go Betty Go, Stars, The National, Bloc Party, Drums and Tuba, bloody mary's at the Longbranch Inn

Super Fun: Charlie's Holy Happy Hour at Beerland, Passed Out Flyers, Sniffy at Lovejoy's, Smoosh at Maggie Mae's, Visqueen w/ Neko Case at the Longbranch, Pong at FXFY, riding bikes

Unimpressive: French Kicks, New York Dolls. (Yes I recognize the significance of this band, but heroin chic doesn't do it for me and I was nonplussed by all the covers).

Unforgiveable #1: Bigsby's running an hour late on their Blackeyes and Blackouts Brawl and shutting down Young Heart Attack in the middle of Frenchie's guitar solo.

Unforgiveable #2: The sound guy at the Chuggin' goddamn Monkey being too drunk and/or stupid to know how to adjust Visqueen's sound, resulting in crappy vocals and feedback throughout the show. This marks the second time Visqueen has been screwed by SXSW sticking them in a shitty venue. Always the professionals, Rachel, Ronnie (from the Muffs), and Ben stuck it out; but not before Rachel changed some of the words to her songs to how she was going to kill the sound guy. As soon as they were done Ben and Ronnie climbed out the window of the club (which was right next to the stage) onto the sidewalk to escape the horror that is the Chuggin' Monkey, only to be called back for two more songs by the sound guy who, though utterly incompetent, was apparently smitten with Rachel.

After days of street-cart food (bratwurst, anyone?), smoke and hipster-clogged bars, wayward st. patrick's day revelers, and drinking way more than usual, studying for comps never felt so good.

Pictures to follow soon...

Air America Radio comes to Austin!

Check this out Austin peeps...1600 AM "KOKE" is our new Air America station. Program your car stereos accordingly.

Austin Sides With 'Buster"

Things are getting nutty around here what with sxsw coming up next week, and comprehensive exams looming in five weeks...but I had to feature this story today because it makes me a little happy. Austin's PBS channel will be showing the much-feared "lesbian" episode of the children's show "Postcards From Buster," on March 28 at 8pm, even though the national PBS decided not to distribute it.

Of course it's silly that such a hub-bub was even made over this - goes without saying.

KLRU sidesteps PBS, joins "Buster's" visit to same-sex household

US Supreme Court Refuses to Re-Open Roe v. Wade

(From Reuters) The Texas woman once known as "Jane Roe," whose case led to the ruling that women have a constitutional right to an abortion, lost a U.S. Supreme Court appeal on Tuesday (Feb 22) seeking to overturn its historic 1973 decision.

Article

The Court rejected this most recent bid without comment or recorded dissent. You might also remember that in 1993, the Court actually heard a more significant challenge to overturn Roe, and Roe was upheld.

I am also *somewhat* comforted in all of this by the core legal notion of stare decisis, which literally means "to stand by that which is decided." Courts are generally unwilling to depart from earlier precedents, even if current justices would decide the case differently if heard today. This doesn't mean decisions aren't overruled - they are, especially if it can be shown that the earlier decision was made too hastily or if new legislation undermines the decision (U.S. vs. Washington). I just want you to know that all is not necessarily lost, even if Rhenquist is replaced with an anti-choice justice. Having faith in stare decisis is about all I can do at this point.

SXSW Day Parties

I'm probably going to buy a SXSW wristband for the first time this year, mainly because I have a friend coming in from Seattle and it will be easier to hang out. It pains me to give my graduate-student salary to sxsw. But you can have a kick-ass time sans wristband! Keep checking the Girlstown Productions event calendar, where I have been posting all the cool-sounding day parties which are free (and sometimes have free beer and food while it lasts). So far Wednesday at Emo's (WMMF, Octopus Project, other locals) is looking good, as is Thursday at Emo's (Tegan & Sara, Stars, The Wrens + lots more), Church of the Friendly Ghost (Chunklet Party with Enon, Swearing at Motorists + more) on Friday, and Tillery Street Theatre (Porchlight Pop Fest)and Longbranch Inn (Visqueen & Schoolyard Heroes!) on Saturday.

Worlds Collide

I witnessed the weirdest thing the other day, but in order to tell about it I will have to admit that I was at Nordstrom's, looking for cheap-ish clothes in the teeny-bopper section. Ok. Now that that's out of the way, there is a giant video screen in this section of the store that plays various music videos and random interview clips with people I'm too old to have heard of. When I got there, Le Tigre's "TKO" (from their recent major label debut "This Island") video was playing on the screen and it was super loud! It was the strangest feeling to walk around looking at clothes in Nordstrom's to Le Tigre. I stood there, transfixed, staring at the video screen. No one else seemed to notice the revelation ocurring in that moment. Immediately following the Le Tigre song, a clip came on with some smarmy teenage boy (a new teen idol that has somehow escaped my radar?) talking about his ideal of a "perfect girl." He said nothing mattered as much as "having class." Puke. It was so jarring and wrong and horrible to have this punk-ass kid come on right after Le Tigre and preach to the girls shopping at Nordstrom's that they can get a boyfriend if they are "classy."

It made me realize that Le Tigre really has succeeded in their quest to take their message to the mainstream. I say, good for them!!

More Project Runway Drivel

I just have to share the joy in my life that is Project Runway. O my gawd this show has me right where it wants me, salivating for more. I should note, studying for my exam makes me extremely vulnerable to the clutches of television. So if I sound like a big loser, I kind of am at the moment and I'm ok with that. Anyway -- back to the show. If you need to catch up, this article gives a good overview.

This Sunday, Bravo is doing a Project Runway marathon so you can watch every single episode leading up to Wednesday's two-hour finale!! if you have cable. and haven't killed your television which we all know we should do. i also know it's a big banana republic advertising vehicle, but just ignore that part. hee hee.

Austin Rocks Tonite

Woo-wee there is a lot going on in Austin tonight.
We have a hipster show at The Parish (I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness), a rocker show at Emo's (Young Heart Attack, The Good Looks, Rockland Eagles, The Action Is), and the down-and-dirty punk blues of Amplified Heat at Whiskey Bar. I also hear that Red River charmers Hobble will be at Room 710 tonight. Oh the choices!!

As if that weren't enough, there's the Flicker Film Festival at the Alamo downtown (hosted by the Austin Craft Mafia), and an earnest intellectual lecture on the inequalities of globalization on the UT campus.

If I can convince myself that going out will actually help me study for comps, then I will most likely be at Emo's and Room 710.

p.s. tonight is the sold-out Duran Duran show at UT. Who was your favorite band member? I was a Roger Taylor girl, all the way. 8th grade was pretty much spent watching Duran Duran and Wham! videos on MTV at my friend's house after school. (sniff)

A friendly valentine's day message...

Sales of gold jewelry in the first two weeks of February will create 34 million metric tons of waste worldwide. To put that in perspective, according to Oxfam America, the production of a single 18 Karat gold ring weighing less than an ounce generates at least 20 tons of mine waste.

Yay.

How many female chemical engineering professors are there, anyway?

If you've been dying to know, it's your lucky day. All the hubbub over the Harvard President's recent gaffe has renewed public interest in the underrepresentation of women in the sciences. This website, which was created prior to the recent fracas, lets you look up fairly detailed demographic information on 150 research universities in the U.S. to see what percentage of their math and science faculty are women. The site is set up to send a letter for you to the University President of your choice, among other action-oriented things.

Did you know there was a GAO Report last year recommending that federal agencies need to do more to ensure compliance with Title IX (that's the one about sex discrimination being wrong and bad)?

"I'm not a woman in rock, I'm a force of nature" - Courtney Love

Are we already going to be talking about the 'good old days?' I am so depressed.

"Fast forward 10 years and there's barely a female rock voice left. Of the 23 categories contested at this year's NME awards, a British female artist is nominated in only one: World's Sexiest Women. How has it come to this? Where is the female Alex Kapranos? Where are the female Razorlight? Didn't we make it easy for girls to become rock musicians and gain the respect of their male peers?"

full article from the Guardian

Boxing is Good For Us

I heard this great review of Million Dollar Baby yesterday on the radio. The reviewer talked a lot about girls' aggression and how we're socialized to repress it at our peril. I got excited because my dissertation (hey! stop yawning!) will be about similar stuff and she articulated the issues really nicely. I saw the movie a week ago and the whole theater was crying by the end. Seriously! Clint has no shame when it comes to manipulating our emotions.

"Million Dollar Baby's portrayal of a female boxer resonates for Leah Hager Cohen, who sees a greater victory in the triumphs of women in the ring. Cohen is the author of the book Without Apology: Girls, Women, and the Desire to Fight and trains at the Ring Boxing Club in Boston." --NPR

You can go to this NPR page and click on the audio link to hear the story.

Flying Blind or Who Needs Social Science, Anyway?

The connection between social science research and policy is usually tenuous at best, but here's an example of how policy completely disregards empirical evidence: the recently published study that suggests abstinence-only education programs don't work, and actually might increase sexual activity among teens, and the subsequent proposal from the Bush administration to increase funding for these programs by $38 million to a total of $192.5 million in 2006 ("Bush Budget Calls for Cuts in Health Services," New York Times, February 5, 2005).

The study referenced above has its methodological flaws, the most obvious of which is the lack of a comparison group, so we can't rule out other explanations for the results. But to increase funding for this crap? Oh, and by the way, mr. prez, your freaking boot camps don't work either.

Project Runway Rules!

This is the best reality show ever. Period.

This is Just Plain Nutty

A 25-year-old waitress who turned down a job providing "sexual services" at a brothel in Berlin faces possible cuts to her unemployment benefits under laws introduced this year.

Full article:
If You Don't Take a Job as a Prostitute, We Can Stop Your Benefits

*Thanks to secret pal steve for bringing this to my attention*

Currently listening to...

Left of the Dial: Dispatches from the 80's Underground

A four-disc box set I bought with the gift card my brother sent me (thanks Pete!). One thing I've learned is that I wasn't as completely out of it as I thought I was in the mid-to-late 80s in Anchorage, Alaska. Thanks to a friend's older sister who lived in Chicago and sent music back to her siblings, I was listening to Bauhaus, Love & Rockets, The Church, Ministry, The Smiths, Siouxsie & the Banshees, and Sisters of Mercy (I wasn't goth, I swear!), all of which can be found on Left of the Dial.

Thanks to my pen-pal Steve, who was living in Port Orchard, WA at the time and made a mean mixed tape in his day, I discovered Left of the Dial bands the Meat Puppets, Violent Femmes, The Replacements, Husker Du, Dead Kennedys, Hoodoo Gurus, and The Stone Roses, among many others.

If it wasn't for these two people in my life, it would have been all Kasey Kasem, all the time.

But it's free speech, man!

This is a short, smart article that suggests we take the porn debates a little further than the same old obscenity vs. free speech quagmire.

Revisiting the Porn Debate
by Chyng Sun, NYU

"Most liberal-minded people rush to defend pornographers' right to free speech. Maybe we should stop and ponder what we are defending."
More

Gender & Science

Here's some interesting follow up to this story. First, a story that ran on NPR's All Things Considered today:

A Look at Research on Gender and the Sciences
David Kestenbaum, himself a particle physicist, examines what the scientific evidence shows about this subject.
click here for the link to the audio

And second, from the Feminist Majority Foundation's newswire:

Under Pressure, Harvard President Announces Program to Recruit More Women
Succumbing to pressure by women's rights groups and prominent women scientists and academicians like Sally Ride and Donna Hopkins, Harvard President Lawrence Summers has announced the initiation of a new program at the university to recruit women a week after suggesting at an academic conference that women have less innate ability to perform in science and mathematics than men. Summers defended his comments over the past week, maintaining that he was merely suggesting that the role of discrimination and innate abilities of women and men in the sciences need further research. However, in an open letter to the Harvard community, he committed Harvard to “recognize and reduce barriers to the advancement of women in science,” including making it easier for faculty to balance work and family.
Full article

The evidence just keeps pouring in...

So some guy wrote in about my last post and told me to "take it like a man and shut the fuck up." Wow. Where to even start with that one. Take what, exactly? Gender discrimination? Uh, ok. Like white men would put up with that for one freaking second. The funniest part is this guy keeps his blogger profile hidden, which is so...manly.

Harvard University President Revealed to Be Not That Smart

This is why everyone should be required to take a sociology of gender course: the president of Harvard University, an economist by training, dredged up the quaint notion that women are biologically inferior to men when it comes to math and science ability. There is no defensible research to support this! Furthermore, he questioned whether the low proportion of female professors in these disciplines relative to the proportion of females who are actually getting doctorates in these disciplines is really due to discrimination. (Christ. The academic tenure system is completely based on the historical model of male academics with wives at home to take care of their children and type up their manuscripts. It's institutional sexism. For female academics, it pretty much boils down to a choice between getting tenure or having children. Very few tendured female professors have children, while most of the males do.)

This Harvard guy eventually apologized to the accomplished female scientists that were at this meeting, but whatever. Biological explanations for why women are second class citizens - haven't we been here before?

I have a favorite pimp, don't you?

So speaking of fake breasts, I started a discussion with Anna this morning about the seeming obsession that (white) men have with Snoop-freaking-Dogg. He is actually referred to as "middle class America's favorite pimp." So now we have favorite pimps?

Check out the slobbering tribute to him in one of our weekly entertainment papers: Austin Chronicle. At least Joe Gross calls it like it is: XL
I can't help but think these dudes must secretly wish they could be pimps - if they can pretend all men are pimps and all women are "ho's," life becomes a lot easier to figure out, doesn't it. We're all in our proper places. Don't get me wrong, a lot of women are all over their role in this little fantasy, too - like being a sexual commodity of men makes them feel protected and worth something. I remember in college there were fraternities/sororities that had "pimp and ho" parties where people were supposed to come dressed up like that. WTF? Small-minded indeed, to put it mildly.
p.s. this isn't a critique of prostitutes or prostitution - that's a way more complicated issue - it's the glorification in mainstream America of the power-trip that supposedly comes from being a pimp that I'm talking about.

Oh, dear

On the one hand, I can hardly believe we actually have an African American woman as Secretary of State – you sort of have to stand back a minute and let that sink in, purely from a race and gender perspective. I mean, holy cow. But then, everything has a context and this particular context is pretty bad. I won’t go into the obvious stuff about Condoleeza Rice’s track record on Iraq. But I did want to call attention to the senate vote on her confirmation. At 85 For and 13 Against, this was the largest “no” vote against a Secretary of State since 1825, and the second largest in U.S. history.

You can read the article here if you want. Interestingly, the closely-watched Barack Obama voted “yes” in one of his first actions as a new senator, as did Hillary Clinton (no big surprise there I guess).

Here are the twelve Democrats and one Independent who voted against Rice’s confirmation:
Akaka (D-HI)
Bayh (D-IN)
Boxer (D-CA)
Byrd (D-WV)
Dayton (D-MN)
Durbin (D-IL)
Harkin (D-IA)
Jeffords (I-VT)
Kennedy (D-MA)
Kerry (D-MA)
Lautenberg (D-NJ)
Levin (D-MI)
Reed (D-RI)

Ms. Led Visits Austin, Rocks

I had already written this post but then lost it (ugh), so this will be a reconstruction. Now that I've recovered from Saturday, I can write about it a little...Marshall and I started out the day with laundry (wait! that's the sort of thing you're not supposed to clutter up blogs with, right? Sorry). We stopped by Legs Diamond where Jasper and Leah sold us some rock 'n roll accoutrements so we could look cooler later that night at Emo's (ha!). I finally got a belt with an interchangeable belt buckle so now I can wear my Olympia Beer buckle that I've had forever. It's the small pleasures that make life worth living, you know. A word of advice: by all means check out Leopard Lounge clothing exchange next to Mojo's, but don't go on a Saturday unless you're under about 22 or so. They had live DJs (loud and blocking the belts) and the place was overrun with people talking about what they were wearing to their next formal.

Speaking of Mojo's, Marshall's friend used to own it when it was shabby and comfy but sold it recently (hence the new purple paint job). You know the shared graffiti walls in the back? THere's this nastily written letter posted on them addressed to artists, painters, and writers telling them to take a flying leap and get over themselves because there will be no more graffiti back there. We immediately jumped to the conclusion that the new owners of Mojo's must be fascists. But I have no data to back that up. Those walls are a fantastic piece of Austin culture and it's a really bad move to ban them. I decided to not visit the new Mojo's any time soon.

But I digress. Ms. Led was in town! We met them at Casino to hang out before the show, and talked about pro-choice politics and female rock stars who denounce feminism, among other things. Hardcore Anna showed up despite barely being able to talk. A good time was had, except for the notoriously slow food at Casino made us all get to Emo's a lot later than planned. We did catch the last couple songs from The Fall Collection, a local indie-boy rock trio. They were awfully cute. I'd go see them again. Ms. Led played an amazing set to a full crowd, and I think they sold several CDs to new fans (yay!) who unfortunately don't get to see bands like this around Austin. I hope they come back for SXSW. After saying good-bye to them, we capped off the night with some half-pints over at Lovejoys with Sarah, Scott and Roy. I felt like it had been Christmas and now it's over.

Arcade Fire Lives Up to Expectations, Crowd Exceeds Them

Eventful weekend! Friday I went to the Texas NARAL lunch and represented while Anna was down for the count. I'm looking forward to getting more involved here after having worked for Washington NARAL in Seattle. Ok, then later that night I was able to go to the Arcade Fire show at Emo's, which was sold out. They played for a little under an hour, and sounded great. They had six band members stretched across the front of the stage all in a line, with a drumset behind. Several of them would switch instruments at various points, but in general there were two violins, an accordion, drums, keyboard, guitar, bass, a xylaphone-type instrument which i couldn't see, and extra miscellaneous percussion (including hitting the metal rafter overhead with drumsticks).

what made the experience so pleasant was the utter un-pretentiousness of the crowd. just a bunch of nice folks who appreciate good music out to see the latest "buzz" band. lot's of "excuse me's" and "i'm sorry's" from people trying to squeeze their way through the dense crowd, and people graciously made room for them. amazing. i was in one of my rare "i love people" moods that night, so i was probably just seeing the best of everything. thanks to anna, who was still too sick to come out, but made every effort to give her spot on the guest list to me. i felt like a VIP!

From the Streets of Austin to You...

I love going to protests. They're so heartening, and soul-warming. I've been going to protests and demonstrations for various causes for fifteen years (pro-choice, violence against women, WTO, labor, anti-war, etc.), and the first 15 minutes of the demonstration is always the best. Everyone's energized, checking out each other's witty homemade signs, and the vibe is jubilant and hopeful; individuals who in their everyday lives feel isolated and angry come together and see, conceretely, that hundreds of people in their own community feel like they do. And for every person that takes the time and/or is able to show up, there are lots more who couldn't make it.

I approached yesterday's counter-inaugural protest on the Congress Ave. bridge with a bit less enthusiasm than usual, because lately I have not been feeling much about anything -- I have been tired of caring, tired of being mad, and my lack of emotion has been worrying me a little to tell you the truth. But in the first fifteen minutes of the protest I got the inoculation I needed. It doesn't matter how hokey or quaint a protest might seem to the majority of Americans -- when you're participating in one you are looking straight into the eye of this country. It's a beautiful thing. I decided to wait by the bridge for the marchers to arrive from the state capitol building, preferring to watch them appear in the distance and descend upon the bridge - more dramatic that way. The smallish Austin-sized contingent was led by 10 or 12 people on bikes, which is what I love about Austin protest marches -- the BMXers doing tricks, 20-somethings on their beach cruisers and rickety three-speeds, plus a couple mountain bikers all riding real slow in front of the walkers. Their presence makes an environmental statement all on its own, separate from the cause at hand, and it lends an Austin signature to the event.

After the cyclists, a big papier-mache head of George Bush on the body of a snake headed up the group of marchers. The obligatory drums were pounding, and as they approached the bridge the motorcycle cops began megaphoning their instructions to stay on the sidewalks (the marchers had managed to use one side of Congress Ave. as they made their way south to the bridge, even though they didn't have a city permit). Of course, this set up an immediate power struggle once on the bridge, because the crowd wants to step into the street and police want the crowd to stay on the narrow sidewalk. At this point I was in the middle section of the bridge and it was getting pretty crowdy because there were too many people for the narrow sidewalk. Cars were driving by honking approvals, except for one SUV whose passenger yelled "four more years" as it sped by. I felt the bridge moving a little from the weight of all the people, and having grown up in earthquake country I got a little nervous. Next I saw out of the corner of my eye some police in white helmets at the start of the bridge taking a few people down to the ground. This, combined with the crowd pressing ever closer, triggered some panic in me as I recalled the 1999 WTO protest in Seattle. I had ended up in some situations with large crowds where I couldn't escape and I was a sitting duck for police with pepper spray. Now I always follow my instincts and get the hell out. Call it post-traumatic stress if you want.

On solid ground at the start of the bridge, I actually had a better view of the police - they arrested three people, one of which they tasered unnecessarily. After the police van took them away, the energy level was sustained by the drums, several of which were stowed on the back of a pedi-cab by a guy wearing what looked like a dirty rabbit suit. It's usually at this point in a protest when people sort of wonder what to do next or what's going to happen next, and after awhile it starts to peter out. There was no one "leading" this event, so it really was an organically evolving situation. The police were commiserating over what to do with the crowds who clearly were not staying on the sidewalk, and they wisely decided to block off the bridge and let the people use the whole bridge. At this point everyone cheered, rushed out into the middle of street, and began jumping up and down, hands in the air, celebrating the apparent victory: "Whose streets? Our streets!"

I milled around taking pictures (sorry no digital camera so pics will have to wait) and observing as any sociologist would - heh heh. I admired the silver-haired whippet that a man had brought along with two other dogs, and wondered for the millioneth time why the hell do people bring their dogs who are afraid of the loud drumming? This poor whippet (think: small greyhound) was so petrified his tail couldn't get any more between his legs. A few frustrated after-work joggers tried to get through the crowd. Austin protests are small enough where it's possible to run into people you know, see people you recognize - and now that they had the roomy street people were socializing, some were dancing, and others straggled off to the sides or began to go home. My favorite thing I overheard: a teenage girl, her face sharpied with anti-Bush commentary, commented to her friend after she read a sign alluding to the fascism of our government, "it IS fascism -- my minister said so."

The most indelible image was the fifteen-foot tall rendering of the infamous Abu Ghraib prisoner in the black robe and hood, arms outstretched with electrical wires attached to his hands. It was fastened to the back of another pedi-cab, whose owner slowly pedaled through the crowd. On my way back up to Second St. I saw a few folks with signs standing at the intersection of Cesar Chavez and Congress, where the traffic was being diverted from the bridge. I overheard one say, "Well, we thought at least someone should see us." It seems the joke was on us, because giving us the street also meant that the 1,500 or so of us were quarantined off on the bridge where none of the downtown rush hour traffic would be able to see us. Oh well. I still left with lifted spirits, my step a little lighter, and hope for the future. And that is the real goal of a protest, I think, to rejuvenate a community and renew our commitment to action.

Is that a frog in your throat?

I finally finished my three record reviews for Girlstown Productions. My first foray into writing about music, and it took forever. I'm slow anyway at getting things done (lazy), but this was new territory for me and it was hard to try to write creatively again after years of writing research reports. I'm not sure if I can write about music that I don't care about though -- just the bands I love!

So now that this is out of the way for a while I can get back on comps studying. It's obvious where my priorities lie, isn't it? Seriously, I can't back burner comps any longer.

I lost my voice on Sunday and I can pretty much only talk in a whisper right now. Sometimes I can croak out really low tones but that's it. It's sort of interesting to be voiceless for two days. The guy at the checkout counter at Target thought I was wacked.

Yo Frankie

Frankie was a good sport on this day when we thought how cute she would look in a knit cap.

Yay Silk Soymilk!

To add some balance to the frequent rants about the sexist commercials that perpetually blanket our media landscape with no end in sight, I have this to offer: The commercial currently running for Silk soymilk. It features a young girl around 10 or 12 years old determinedly toting her snowboard up to the chairlift early in the morning. So early that she's the only one on the mountain, and the chairlift operator isn't even there yet. Her voiceover says, "Today I'm going to invent a trick that will be remembered for all time." She plants herself in position to get on the lift, and then the lift operator eventually shows up, a gruff-looking guy in his 40s wearing a parka. Our heroine turns to him and says, "you're late." Chairlift guy grins and shakes his head, but not in a condescending way -- it's a look that says "I know you're a badass and I can only hope to be as strong and confident as you one day."

I love that commercial. There are no images of mom making breakfast & getting kids ready for school, no women in leotards measuring their waists (although some of their print ads tend to go down that road). If you want to tell the company what you think, email them here.

I AM just shy

I've noticed of late that I am more apt to post news stories and tidbits that I find elsewhere than to actually write my own comments. In response to that, or in defense of that, can I just say...look at the title of this blog! Yes, I am reticent to expose myself and thoughts through this venue, even though the 4 people (generous estimate) who read it are good friends who already know me! I guess I'm too obsessed with looking stupid - always have been. My friend John inspires me though, as he never worries about such things and occasionally goes out of his way to look stupid - I imagine it's quite liberating. I can remember way back in 5th and 6th grade being afraid to talk to people on the phone...major phone phobia. I had to write down on a piece of paper what I was going to say because I would get so nervous. Calling my friends was nerve-wracking, because I was deathly afraid that I would say my name and they would go Kim who? That never happened, but the threat of it was enough to make me hyperventilate. Ahh, memories. So, there you go - a whole post written just by me!

It's About Freakin Time

MONDAY, JANUARY 3 The week begins with a burst of righteous anger from a heartening source: Essence, the black women's lifestyle magazine, whose editors have announced a long-overdue war on hiphop misogyny. Explicated by writer/scholar Stanley Crouch in today's New York Daily News, the Essence campaign was launched after editors held a group listening session. "We found the rap lyrics astonishing, brutal, misogynistic," said editor Diane Weathers. "So we said we were going to pull no punches, especially since women were constantly being assaulted." This assault is well illuminated by Crouch: "The elevation of pimps and pimp attitudes creates a sadomasochistic relationship with female fans. They support a popular idiom that consistently showers them with contempt. We are in a crisis, and Essence knows it." After last spring's demonstrations at Atlanta's Spelman College--where a campus full of young women (supported by their male peers at Morehouse) cancelled a performance by Nelly over his standard-issue "gangsta" treatment of women in songs and videos, "we realized that… it was time," says editor Weathers. "Women were no longer going to sit still." Praising Essence as "the first powerful presence in the black media with the courage to examine the cultural pollution that is too often excused because of the wealth it brings to knuckleheads and amoral executives," Crouch closes his editorial with tempered hope: "Things are getting hot. This is a beginning that has been a long time coming, and it is good to see it all forming naturally with the women in the lead."

From Last Days by David Schmader

Women's rock zine marks 10th year

1996 Rockrgrl Cover

By Gillian G. Gaar
Special to The Seattle Times

In 1994, Carla DeSantis, a divorced single mom then living in San Mateo, Calif., was rekindling her interest in music by venturing into, in her words, that "brave new world" of the Internet.

And the former musician quickly learned attitudes hadn't changed much from the days when a music-store clerk forbade her to touch a new bass she was interested in buying.

"I thought, 'Am I the only person this happens to?' " she recalls. "There are probably other women out there who've experienced the same thing, but I don't know where they are."

Buffy the VS Fun

Marshall and I have been watching the entire series of BTVS from season 1, which we started last month. So much fun! I watched the whole thing as it happened from 1997(?) on, but it is amazing to watch it straight through on DVD. And I totally nerd-out on all the commentaries and stuff. We're on season 3 right now. A lot of it is new to Marshall so it's great to watch him get excited about it. It's old news that BTVS was the smartest, most well-written show on tv (not to mention totally feminist). I only wish I had this show when I was a teenager. I wouldn't have been such an idiot...but it's never too late to find yr power. OK, back to Buffy!

It's True!

Quack's bakery is going into the old Pato's location! Yowza! For those living in the French Place/Cherrywood neighborhoods east of I-35, this is the best news ever. We now officially live in walking distance of good coffee and bagels. Kick ass!

Here I Go

I've started studying for comps - my reading list is 15 pages long of books and articles and I have three months. This is going to be occupying about 75% of my life, and I'm anticipating freak-outs at regular intervals along the way. I know I can do this; I just get little pangs of self-doubt and when paired with pathological laziness, this leads to avoidance and anxiety and finally helplessness. But then I just feel stupid for making a big deal out of it and I eventually will pull it off. This is a little different than writing a 30 page paper in two days, though...a new challenge for me to see how little I can study and still pass. and everyone thinks i'm such a good student.

sometimes i think i've gotten really off track with my dissertation topic. i used to be into all of this radical/critical/feminist criminology and feminist jurisprudence stuff and it really rocks my world, but i've found myself focusing on the staid, more traditional types of studies (albeit with a feminist influence). part of it is because i want my dissertation to be easy and straightforward. that other work gets really messy really fast. and i DO want to graduate by age 35 - the looming deadline. but geez, i miss reading all that cool stuff. sometimes i think just for a second it might be nice to go into academia just so i could pursue those tracks---so much i want to do. but then i remember what i really want is to have a nice research job with nonprofits and be left alone. no academic rat-race for moi. but...

Cheese Hangover

Today I am feeling the effects of ingesting large amounts of cheese fondue at Sarah and Scott's kick-ass fondue party last night. After the cheese course, there was our contribution of fried fish balls, which sounds gross but was actually really good -- like crab cakes but with smoked mackerel -- and everyone cooks their own in the fondue pot which is filled with hot vegetable oil. And then we moved into the chocolate course, which had apples, strawberries, bananas, marshmallows, and angel food cake to dip in it. Along with swigs of cherry brandy and several glasses of wine, a rowdy game of 'catch phrase,' bad jokes about fish balls, and marshall's gorgeously horrific polyester shirt, the evening was a lovely way to start off the new year. Now excuse me while I go take a nap...

Pregnant Woman Can't Get a Divorce, Judge Says

This is totally outrageous. What century are we in? In 2005 women in the U.S. are still fighting for basic rights. Not a big newsflash, but we need to see it in print more often.

Click here for AP article

Click here for longer feature article