J has worked at a summer theater every summer since I moved to Overcast three and a half years ago, and usually it's great. Long hours, but the people he works with are mostly fun and reasonably acquainted with the fact that graduate school is work, since some of them are thinking about grad school themselves. Except for a few people, mostly straight men, who seem to think that intellectual work, especially done by a woman, is not work at all. I'm aware that I'm extraordinarily privileged, in that my university gave me a funding package which allows me to solely work on my dissertation during the summers. I don't have to pick up a second job or teach unless I choose to, so when we meet people for drinks after work or whatever, my answer to "what did you do today" is usually "read another book" and not "rigged 500 pounds of lights/built a giant platform for people to dance on."
She is a grad student, academic and pretty awesome. But her work isn't seen by some (mainly men) as real. In my years with J, I've never heard anyone dismiss his work (theoretical physics mainly done from a couch) as fluff. I couldn't do what she does, and without people like her the breadth and diversity of our knowledge base would dwindle. Why is it that tasks are deemed less important when you have a woman do it?
I need to realize (and remember, and repeat to myself) that people who think like this are major douchebags, and I don't negotiate with douchebags. It will still irk me, but I should correct them when I can and move along.
The things I like to do, that really bring me joy, are not what most people would call a career track. I may never have a career in the sense that J has a career, but that doesn't mean I haven't done something with myself. Eileen wrote about how what you do for money doesn't have to be what defines you. It's great if it does, and defines you in a good way, but life isn't always work.
What I need to do is strengthen my non-"work" skills, so the after-work sphere of my life grows larger and more important. People may not respect the things I like to do (sewing, sculpting) as real work, but I need to. And I don't think I've been truly respecting my talents.
It's easier said than done, to not give credit to what others think of you. But starting this summer, I'm going to try to not care.
Yesterday, Diplopundit linked to my Trailer Trash post, sending a flurry of new folks my way (hello new folks!). It made me realize how hard it is to find a new word for something when the current one is in wide use. I fall back on "trailing spouse" so often, just because I know people will know what I'm talking about. And I'll admit I knew that if I stopped using "trailing spouse" altogether, no one new to these discussions would ever find this website. So am I perpetuating it?
I wish the word "caboose" didn't sound silly when not used in reference to a train. Because that's what we are, right? Not the front end, but not dragging either. Attached, carrying half the weight, and pushing when needed.
Trailing makes me think of being a little sister and my older sister getting mad when I followed her around. Or grades in school getting gradually lower, and falling behind. Or following someone when they don't know it (like a private detective?). The only positive thing I can think of is the trail left behind a comet:
Comet dust trails are the collections of large (greater than 0.1 mm) particles that closely follow a comet's orbit like the boxcars of a freight train (although trails are not physically bound together). Dust trails are the youngest meteoroid streams, and when they intersect the orbit of a planet they can create meteor showers. Some asteroids have been dynamically linked to meteor showers. However, dust trails have only been observed around comets. - Astro.umd.edu
Hrm. Actually, that doesn't sound great either. Though it does bring my train analogy into play. Things that trail seem light or superfluous, without great consequence or presence:
An email from a colleague of my husband referred to his Trailing Spouse; you can imagine my reaction. When I told a friend about this, she asked if I were planning to wear Laura Ashley dresses and waft about, chiffon scarves floating in my wake. - La Douce Vie Suisse
I should change the name of my blog, completely. I just need to leave bread crumbs so other women (like me, when I started this journey) can find there way here, and to other helpful places.
I will be giving my (two week) notice at my job this Friday. I’m not leaving to take another job. I’m leaving because the Army is moving us ….. again. Unfortunately, in order to get the job, I had to fib and tell the bosses that we’d be staying in the area (and would eventually retire here) and I think that’s one of the reasons why they hired me — I said I was sticking around. Many employers will not hire military spouses if they think they are leaving soon, and the reality is that I usually have to “fib” about how long we’re staying in order to get any job.
Oy! Sound familiar? This was my go-to excuse for not trying to get out of my current work situation, not wanting to start a job when I knew we might move. You know who "might" move? Anyone! I wasted years not letting myself move on, and that totally sucks. I wish I knew if this lady had a blog, because I'd read the hell out of it.
The commenters on the post chastise her for her "fibbing" and tell her she's an out-right liar. This got my hackles up immediately. She can tell the truth and hope she's not dropped for the possibility she may move, she can omit what her spouse does for a living, or she can just stop living her life completely until she drops dead and finally "commits" to a burial plot.
When I asked my HR department whether or not I should tell my boss about J's graduation, we got into a talk about the possibility of relocation if he gets a good job. I said that was definitely a possibility, but since I have no control over his job prospects, it's hardly fair to judge me for it. One of the HR crazies even suggested that I let them know about his progress as soon as he gets an interview! It's like I'd grown a third arm or something, and that third arm was looking for a new job. Candace at Army Wives Lives answered a similar question to the one above, much more articulately:
Most states do not specifically grant military spouses protection from employment discrimination. However, you may not discriminate against someone based on marital status. An employer making inquiries about your marriage for any purpose is simply inappropriate. They also cannot ask if you are planning to get pregnant and take maternity leave in the near future.
Yes, I do sort of have control over where he gets a job (once he gets an offer) and we are a unit. I'm stuck to/with him for life, and I'm glad of that, but we are two different people. I do not want to be thought of in terms of him when looking for a job. It's enough to pull up roots and move somewhere for someone else, so I found it completely insulting that the commenters at Ask a Manager wouldn't even give her the concession of not offering up conjecture in an interview.
I see it as a bias similar to avoiding women because maybe someday they'll get pregnant and have to take time off. Planning for the future is a part of being a manager, but there are some assumptions that shouldn't be made, for the dignity of your employee.
So, now I need to go find army spouse blogs, because that is a corner of the internet I never even thought to look in! If anyone knows a good one, please let me know in the comments. I'm in a lather right now and will probably have to come back to this later to make it more succinct.
A quick trip to the Salvation Army got me 10 packages of ice-blue sequins ($1) and a large, beige flat sheet ($2). Let's talk about what happened to the former.
One dollar! (That's just 1.5 packs)
As for the latter, I was attempting to make a pair of Laupre's Easy Breezy Wrap Pants, but something went wrong in my head and I ended up with a kind of long-legged diaper. It's unfortunate, because the beige sheet I found was a good weight and khaki-look, but I think I've ruined the whole piece. I swear I followed the directions (of course, I hate directions, so I'm lying to myself) but it ended up looking like it'd need a lot of tailoring. The pants are supposed to be really easy, so I'm missing something. I'll try it out again tomorrow night. : (
Two people have asked me (in just the last three days) if I'm going to have children. Granted, one was a man from Yemen and one was a nurse, but WTF, mates? For the latter, I'd gone in for a non-baby prescription refill and a problem with my toenail. Babies? What?
Having children is something I've thought of. A lot. I've read lotsof books. I read blogs. I talk to people my age and older who are parents. I'm not shying away from the subject. J and I talked about having kids before we decided to get married, and one of the things that attracted me to him was that he would make a really good father*.
My doctor asked me if I was thinking about having kids, and I told her I had an IUD that was good for another three years. She said, "Well that could be taken out today!" And I replied, "BUT IT'S GOOD FOR FIVE YEARS AND THAT'S WHY I HAD IT PAINFULLY THRUST INTO MY UTERUS." Ok, I did not all-caps at her, but I was flustered. I gave her my reasons why it's not something I personally wanted to do yet, reasoned arguments about pursuing my interests, spending time with my spouse and keeping my body mine.** Her response and tone made me gag a little:
"Well, that's just the educated person talking".
Let me remind readers that I work on a college campus and this was the campus clinic. She went on to say that most parents never crack a book about it and do just fine. I couldn't shake the feeling that she was on the "Just jump in!" bandwagon. Regardless of my want for children? Our financial readiness? Lady, love doesn't keep anyone alive. Especially in this economy. I usually really like this APN, but she sounded judgy and I kept expecting her to say, "You'll change your mind!" which is incredibly rude. How do you know my mind better than me? Or worse, what if I change my mind after I have a baby? No one ever tells a woman who wants kids that she'll regret it one day, that she'll change her mind or that she's selfish. These are common slurs tossed at childfree women. To pull a comment from Where are the child-free role-molels?"
When I was growing up people kept saying "you'll change your mind". I wonder how many folks ever tell reproduction-inspired young women that they might someday "change their minds".
When I was younger, I never said things like, "I will never have kids", because I realized that I was still turning into the woman I'd become. Almost 30, I'm pretty sure I'm almost a finished entity. And I'm slowly becoming more interested in spending the rest of my life with J and only J. If that's what we decide to do, you can bet that I'll be berated but no one will probably question his decision.
None of what I'm saying is to judge anyone for having kids. I wish I had a drive to do it, and maybe I will later. But if I don't, I'd like to live my life happily without anyone telling me what I'm missing. I already get that from meat-eaters. All. The. Time. This subject has just been so front-and-center for me lately. All my lady-blogs are blowing up with it, people I know, friend's parents. The only person who hasn't really bugged me is my mom***.
*I was shelving books in the Parenting & Childbirth section of my library at the time, so it's not as weird as it sounds.
**I am not saying a pregnant woman or mother does not have bodily autonomy. I am frightened of mother mortality and icky American birth practices/attitudes.
***Who was put on a 5-year grandbaby moratorium the day of my wedding. She has kept her promise.
I am not a clothes horse, but I am always in search of the illusive piece of clothing that makes me feel wonderful. I have already found a few of them, and learned how to recreate another. After my first success, I had dreams of a spring filled with handmade dresses and me always feeling wonderful, but my choices of patterned fabric in town are really sparse. Nothing looks good enough to wear a whole dress of. The only online fabric store I know about is Reprodepot, and they appear to be on hiatus. Sadface.
To the internet! I found a handful of online shops that have great stuff, and if you know of others, please let me know in the comments.
I made a lot of plans today, and cancelled them all. No guilt. I finished a pillow project, and it doesn't look too bad, just a little lumpy:
This isn't exactly what I was going for when I set out for Joann. I love to sit up and read, but I hate sliding and having to scoot back up every few minutes. A "boyfriend" pillow would be great, but they are ugly and I don't want to buy a pillow. Ideally, I would purchase a chaise or a fainting couch (one day, oh one day.)
My friend Anca helped me sketch out the pattern, since I can't seem to think twice about something before cutting a big gash in it. Lo and behold, she took her eyes off of me and I made the inner pillow larger than the fabric for the case. I pretended I did it on purpose so I could make little ribbon ties.
Detail on ribbon
I'm also not sure where I will put this, since our bedspread is red. All that matters is that I actually accomplished something.
Yesterday I made the Mother's Day Corsage from Holidash.com. I took a tip from the comments to felt the petals into shape INSTEAD of using glue. The tutorial said that the gluing took a while to set, and I don't think felting really took that long. I ended up not using any glue. Mine did not turn out as beautiful, but I'm sure that wasn't her first try either:
Next on the list is a replica of a skirt I've had for literally 10 years. I bought some blue cotton similar to the color above, and some lovely lining (which no one will see). I'll try sketching out the pattern today, but probably won't have much time during the week to work on it. Spring Break is coming up, which shouldn't mean much to a working stiff like me, but my workplace is CLOSING for a few days for maintenance. Once more, the freest of all free time. And warm, too.
I don't know why I didn't make the connection between traveling with your spouse and a spouse who has a job that requires lots of travel. Do I need to change the name of my blog again? Or can we beat the other team! Now that I'm looking at it, Secret Confessions of a Traveling Spouse sounds like an erotic journal of adultery on the road. I'm sure that would get me better pageviews, but not exactly what I was going for when I created this blog.
Every once in a while, I do some googling to see if anyone can find me yet. (The answer is no.) I went through 20 pages of google results and found nothing leading directly to this site. Fortunately, out there in the far un-optimized reaches, I did find a few blogs and some good resources and articles. Feast your eyes!:
There were more, but mostly expat stuff or boring rehashed stuff about the negatives. I'm still searching for someone like me. So far A Mathematician's Wife is the closest, though she's not nearly as neurotic as me.
If the blog has been scattered, please forgive. Right now, nothing bad and nothing great is going on. J was given some great advice about industry jobs that made him really happy, and he's hard at work on his dissertation. PhD Comics are less depressing and more funny now. SCOATS abides.
I don't know where my privacy line is right now. I love writing here and it makes me feel better, but I also don't want to turn into an emotional-vomit blog, or say things to embarrass myself/J. Telling him about the blog made me feel WAY better, because I was getting proud of it and wanted to share my happiness with him. But now I've lost a little bit of that bitching edge and have become too un-anonymous to talk about more details without incriminating J. No more talk about bosses or advisors, and sadly that could be really interesting. Actually, it IS really interesting, but I'm playing it safe.
I'm a little late saying anything about last week's Valentine's Day episode of Glee. Not that anyone was on tenterhooks waiting on my grand decree...
Ashley Fink (Lauren Zizes) in the middle, with Chris Colfer and Amber Riley. Image from Wetpaint
I was a huge Glee fan during the first season, because they pushed some boundaries and introduced more diverse characters*. Not as good as Huge, but still pretty dern good. Sure, they did some questionable stuff, but how could you stay mad at a show with gay teenagers, ambiguous sexuality, plus size ladies, several differently-abled characters, teen pregnancy realism (sort of) and unbridled female determination? Yeah, the second season turned around and slushied all of that (fat phobia, genderqueer hate, misogyny, slut-shaming). Ok, perhaps that existed the whole time, but it felt like an envelope was being pushed right? Maybe just a small envelope?
Sometimes I find it mind-boggling how some jokes get through without someone calling foul, but entire plotlines? This episode found Puck, the bad-boy character, suddenly falling in love with the newest Glee-member, Lauren Zizes (played by Ashely Fink, from Huge!!). She's been a pretty fantastic recurring character though the show's run, but unfortunately the show's creators aren't content with her being an awesome, mouthy wrestler-lady, they have to always film her eating (close-up on her mouth) and milk the fat jokes for all they're worth. They brought her on as a main cast member, but so far have made everything about her weight.
The show starts with Puck staring at Lauren while a voiceover says, "You can't choose who you fall in love with." Really? That's how you're going to start this? Would they have used that line if he was staring at Quinn? First "ugh".
Lauren gets a main part in this episode, where Puck decides he wants her after she tells him she doesn't want him. I immediately thought, is this supposed to be an interesting plot because he wouldn't normally go out with a fat girl?** I felt really bad making that connection., but not so fast, brain-- he goes on to tell her several times he likes her because of her curves and body, even once saying he likes her despite her curves. And then he serenades her in the choir room in front of the whole Glee Club-- with "Fat Bottomed Girls" by Queen. I really liked this song until this episode. The whole club was clapping along and having a great time, while Lauren sat silently.
The song ends and she tells him, "That was the first time anyone ever sang me a love song. And it made me feel like crap". Ok, maybe someone will learn a lesson: like someone for who they are, not for their body type. Don't reduce a person to a body part. Don't tell someone they're attractive despite something you don't like. Don't make your attraction sound like a kink (unless you're just going for some kinky fun times, of course). They end up on a date by the end, but you never hear Puck say that he understands that she wants to be loved for who she is, not because he's suddenly curious about big beautiful ladies.
Fink peeking at other Huge cast members. Really, if you haven't watched this excellent, short-lived show, do so now.
Leslie at Two Whole Cakes (lovely blog) saw the song as awesome and empowering, and I'm glad that some good can come out of this episode that was played so cheaply for fat-laughs. But I saw it as sexual tourism, not to another country, but another body type. He's wowed by her body and the way she rejects him, and that just doesn't stack up very romantically in my mind. He plys her constantly with food. He assumes she doesn't want to go out with him because "guys like [him]" have hurt her before. Ugh ugh ugh. I wish some lesson had been learned, and that we don't have to wonder if Lauren is always wondering if he loves her as a person or a body. But Glee isn't great on lessons, really. My favorite quote EVER about Glee's shortcomings is from Satah at This Ain't Living: SUGGESTED AD CAMPAIGN FOR GLEE: remember that one time you liked what we did? We take it back!
I've obviously been thinking about this awful episode too much, and should not be expending my valuable (limited?) thought resources on a teen musical dram-edy. I want more diversity on TV where the character's non-white/hetero/thin/cis identity is NOT all the writers can think of.
And this is what he could have sung and it wouldn't have been as bad, but still pushing it:
*If I use any terms that are not ok, PLEASE TELL ME. I'm not always sure, and I try to look everything up and get the terms right. I'm not asking for a 101, just a helpful nudge.
**Don't think I'm fat-hating by saying that. In the context of the episode, with the writer's obsession about her weight/eating food, it's obvious that's the direction they're taking. And in 2011, it's just sad that this is still how TV works.
Remember that giant artichoke? Well, there's asparagus too. I worked on these two objects for about a month I guess, but I haven't been able to post their progress because I'm blog friends (and real friends) with the recipient: Heidi at Hands Occupied. She knew I was making them, but I wanted the whole package to come as a surprise. It was almost an even bigger surprise: it was delivered to the wrong house, but eventually made its way to its new home.
My lovely photographer friend took lots of pictures so I could someday begin a portfolio. TONS of pictures after the jump.
I went with friends to work out on Monday afternoon, and received a call that the whole university would be closed on Tuesday. Magic. Then I received a call on Tuesday for the Wednesday closing. More magic. I have spent these two snow days (not ice days, fortunately) working on a puzzle and doing some light housework.
First puzzle since I was a kid. Strangely satisfying.
I told myself I'd spend these days (if they happened) doing really productive things, like starting on the next sewing project (large floor pillow). Nope. The snow is really nice, power isn't going out from the very light ice and we've got enough good food to keep us happy. It's good getting to spend this much time with J. Some free time is good for him. So far, he's made a batch of kombucha, biscuits and yogurt. And not once talked about work. He seems relaxed, and even started working on his food blog!
On Monday I got an email from Heidi at Hands Occupied asking if I might write some guest posts while she moves with her (future) husband in the summer. I am thrilled. We've got some things in common in the "trailing spouse" department, so I'm really glad to be her sounding board, and vice versa, about identity/marriage/moving issues. However, she'll be very likely taking that step before me.
Heidi's fiance is an excellent craft helper with their ribbon wall.
[UPDATE: we are closed for Thursday, too. As an adult, I don't think I can ever hope for such luck again.]
I was quoted on The Smart Expat today, in a post questioning the need for a name. I still consider myself new to this game, so the idea of having a place to talk about my feelings and belonging to a group is still tender in my heart:
For those of us who are new to a the idea that our spouse or partner’s career is going to lead us to new places and to circumstances which involve putting our own careers, dreams and ambitions on hold, giving those common circumstances a name gives us the opportunity to know that the emotions we’re experiencing are commonly experienced by people who make the life changes we have made. It lets us know that in circumstances where much of what we find comfortable, supportive and familiar is no longer available, we are not alone.
Renee at Womanist Musings posted a video of Judith Butler and Sunaura Taylor taking a walk and talking about what that means when a person isn't literally "walking", and about disability and social acceptance. This is not a subject I know very much about, but I do think about mobility often as I am walking around my neighborhood and to work. We live near enough our workplaces to walk or ride a bike, and are lucky to have a nearby bus stop when it is not comfortable to do either. There is an old apartment complex a few blocks away that houses mostly older people and many war veterans. I see them in motorized wheelchairs, oftentimes riding in the road because the sidewalks are not even or there are no curb cuts. The first time I saw it happen, I was annoyed, but now I think about how scary it must be to ride in the road (just as some cyclists are scared) but have no other option, because the sidewalks are only usable to those who can step up and down, and over obstructions.
I feel very lucky that we have so many options of getting around. In the morning I just have to pick what kind of shoes to wear that day, and that is how I decide how to get around. When we move, I know the chances are pretty small that we'll have such a good location. I just hope we don't have to buy a second car. That makes me frown just typing it.
This is a reminder to think about what sidewalks are for and that many differently-abled people need to be able to use them. I need to remember this when I pull my car into my tiny, steep driveway, so the end isn't sticking in the sidewalk. If you have a sidewalk around your house/apartment, get some hedge trimmers and make sure there isn't any vegetation that would block the way, or cause someone to step into the road. I know as a pedestrian, it bugs the shit out of me. If people leave their garbage cans turned over in the way, move them. If they keep doing that, move them LOUDLY. Yeah, I'm the person that's doing that.
Here is a "passive aggressive note" about blocking walkways (I think it's wonderful) that the car owner didn't really understand.
Oh goodness. Hello everybody! I am sitting in a coffee shop silently bonding with J. as he does work (not distracting him of course) and when I checked my page views (ok, yes, I do that too frequently) I saw 98 people had come today. Total flabbergastment ensued. It seems a bigwig has linked to me on her/his twitter account, who blogs on the same blog as Comrade Physioprof (Drug Monkey on Science Blogs), who I remember is a huge commenter on feminist blogs from when I first started reading them. I feel touched by greatness. What a Saturday morning! If anyone is here who is married to an academic, welcome welcome welcome and I hope my ramblings set you at ease. If you are an academic, please don't be offended by my whining. I have learned so much since I started this blog. If you are here because you love feminism, crafts, or the Alien franchise, I hope to not disappoint.
A Christmas Story is my family's go-to holiday movie, and at 28, I'm pretty sick of it. One year I read In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash by Jean Shepherd, which only made watching the movie worse (give him a try, stuff's pretty funny). The best part about the movie is that my dad loves it, and it's good to see him laugh. Usually when he laughs it is at the expense of someone else, which is hilarious when it's not me. We even got him a leg lamp a few years ago, which is ironically, stuck in a bedroom no one uses, away from the window. You can get a leg lamp at leglamps.com. I'm not kidding.
Not as funny at $99.99
Luckily, we don't watch It's a Wonderful Life or The Santa Claus. We'll usually end up watching some horrible but entertaining action movie like Transformers. I'm going to lobby heavily for The Day After Tomorrow which is my FAVORITE movie ever (tying close with Super Troopers). I'm usually pretty Christmas'd out by the 20th, so Christmas Day is for sleeping, eating and watching stupid movies. For your internetting pleasure, here's a scene from Super Troopers, with Jim Gaffigan (of Hot Pocket fame):
So, what am I getting at, other than just wasting time at work? I have decided that Allie Brosh of Hyperbole and a Half needs a movie deal (or some money, whatever, she's awesome) to make a live-action version of her comic-story "The Year Kenny Loggins Ruined Christmas". I want this to be our new family xmas movie, to supplant Ralphie and the Bumpuses' dogs. This excellent installment tells the story of a young Brosh re-imagining the birth of Christ with the help of her drunken family, because the original story and typical play are plain boring.
I'm not going to post any more than this, because I don't want to deprive you of the joy and weeping and gagging that I experienced reading this comic. Hell, even my parents liked it, and they enjoy stuff like Everybody Loves Raymond*.
No, don't get excited-- not for me, at least. A close friend of ours (who introduced us, incidentally) is finishing up grad school and just got a job in Chicago. He and his soon-to-be spouse will be moving there in June or July, which should put us just about in the same boat right. Except they know where their boat is going! I am so excited for them, and eager to snap up any advance knowledge on the moving process. I talked to him yesterday and said, "This will be your first adult move," and he agreed. Though he moved to another part of the country for grad school, this is the first non-school, real-job event. I'm nervous because I've never moved anywhere by myself except for undergrad, and I was only an hour away from my parents.
We're going up to Michigan for their wedding in March. Hopefully by that time we'll know what's going on. Heck, I'm nervous about even buying plane tickets at this point.
His fiancee is absolutely awesome. She's got skills out the wazoo, so I'm sure she's not freaking out like I am about uprooting herself. She has a craft blog called Hands Occupied where you can see all the crafts fall neatly from her brain. The friend himself trained to be a student DJ at our college radio station on the same day as me, so that's when we met. He's a huge music nerd and a great friend. He used to make me the best dance mixes for my parties and was one of Justin's groomsmen. I am very tempted to post a picture of his Eddie Mercury costume from the night Justin and I met (at a Halloween party, of course). I am going to bawl at this wedding.
I don't see why we can't just say husband or wife. If one spouse works and the other does not in an on-expat setting, they don't need to be differentiated to this degree.
"Trailing spouse" is absolutely a horrid term. I've just already renamed my blog twice, and it took me a long time on the internet to even find that one term, so horrid as it is, it's a keyword beacon for other frustrated souls.
I think there's more problems in not naming it. Before I came across these terms, I felt very alone that had all these thoughts/feelings about my identity if I leave my job/town and go somewhere with my spouse once he gets his post-doc job. Once I found the term "trailing spouse", even after recoiling at the name, it felt good to know that I wasn't imagining things. Like when I found out "lie bumps" were just inflamed taste buds, not tongue cancer.
If there's not a word for it, and it's mostly women who are in this position then we're implicitly saying that it's just a normal female role. "Why give it a name? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" And even though the "you" in this situation could be male or female, if it was mostly men, there'd be less demeaning name.
Betty Friedan opened the door for a more comprehensive vocabulary about these issues in The Feminine Mystique, where she wrote about "The Problem That Has No Name" (women's ennui with traditional feminine roles). Hello Feminism! I can't imagine what it felt like to read those words back in the 60s. As a twenty-something in 2010, I am conscious of the long road we still have to travel as women, but cannot even pretend to know what it was like for my grandmothers, or my mother. And I thank them for saving me from those experiences. And so, when I hear that differentiation isn't necessary, I would rather err on the side of too many names than not enough.
I hope this post doesn't come off as too aggressive, but I am a fan of words, and an obnoxious baby feminist to boot. I'm sure reading one or two posts made that last point obvious. I still can't believe anyone is even reading this.
*I've linked to a post he wrote about his work/life/marriage situation. Good to hear from a male perspective on this! He is now on my blog roll! (and I know he's just thrilled).
My definition of girl-crush is less "have my babies" and more "I wanna try your clothes on". From Austin to A&M is about being a transplanted grad student (somewhat pertinent to my interests) and about what happens after you lose your bullshit filter and can't stop seeing the madness around you. These ladies pierce my heart with the intensity of their what-the-fuck-ness. The latest post was about a highly anticipated AMC show about zombies totally failing the Bechdel Test*, before that a light skewering of the university paper. I think I found this blog through Feministe, and it was just at a time when I needed a little feminist voice on sci-fi. Really good criticism of misogyny in geek culture, which is really good to hear articulated because it's super confusing and upsetting. From Austin to A&M reminds me of my first real adult female friend, who tried to instill some boy-sense into me before my freshman year of college, got me into cool music, and made me feel better by telling me that no, Virginia, this is not a post-feminist world.
*Be careful with the Bechdel Test. It may ruin your world (at least your movie/TV watching world).
