On oppression and inequality
Tuesday. 3.20.12 8:39 pm
MIDDAYMOON IS LESS THAN A BLOCK AWAY FROM ME. RIGHT NOW. NUTANGERS, UNITE.
I was talking with my...uh...date? Whatever, he and I were talking, when we were on date two, and somehow we got on the topic of surprise pregnancies. NO IDEA WHY. But he essentially said that he would ask that the woman have an abortion, because it would be the most humane thing, for someone college-aged, to do.
--Uh. Excuse me?
Although I am pro-choice (there's no question, as far as I'm concerned, about whether a woman should be able to choose or not, and there's no changing that), I'm also the type of woman who would choose NOT to abort, barring extreme circumstances. This is because 1) childbearing, after an abortion, can be more risky (studies have shown SOME correlation between miscarriages and previous abortions, and a good amount of correlation between abortions and premature birth), and 2) the emotional effects that an experience like that can have on a woman are devastating.
I wouldn't want to expose myself to something so potentially harmful, not only to my body, but to my mind and my future children.
So...excuse me? More humane? Or were you thinking about yourself, and how you could escape without any sort of repercussions, other than a bill for the abortion?
I just...I don't understand. Sure, it's an easy out...for everyone. For the girl, the guy, their parents, and sometimes society, sure, yeah, fine, it might benefit the most people, in the long run.
But you can't go asking someone you knocked up to remove the life that she is growing inside of herself. The reason "motherly love" is so renowned is that mothers are deeply connected to their children, because, for a while, they're two parts of a whole. What the mother eats, the child eats. As long as she's alive, the child is developing and becoming alive. I had a teacher tell the class, once, that fetuses are sort of like parasites that you want and feel connected to through their dependence. Motherhood is something instantaneous and innate, for most women. We feel it because the child is right with us. Men, sometimes, don't feel it until they can feel a kick, or see the kid.
I hate it for them, and it isn't their faults, but men just don't understand that feeling, usually. Not the way women do.
Reading all the propositions on birth control and abortion laws, today, made me really nervous. I have to wonder what difference it will make when the male contraceptive pill comes to fruition. It sounds, to me, like the country is moving backwards into oppression aimed towards females and the sexual revolution of the 60s.
Well, frankly, that sucks. I'm a female, AND one of my favorite topics to research and understand more thoroughly is sex (it always has been; even as a pre-teen, I couldn't understand why more people weren't intrigued by this vast, unusual, and information-rich topic), so essentially I'm left with nothing. Moreover, society is left with a lot less; if we turn ourselves into some repressed, male-serving society, about half of its citizens are going to feel EXTREMELY unsafe--and rightfully so. From the proposed laws (like this one, which is a bit of a graphic idea) I'm seeing pop up in news stories, it's becoming more and more obvious that female safety and well-being are at risk.
Which is why I changed my promise to myself for Lent to two things: 1) Be more supportive of my friends (because, to be honest, I can be a passive-aggressive bitch, at times (stop nodding)), and 2) Stop perpetuating traditional female submission. If men approach me in stores to comment on my looks, I'm not going to be terribly kind about it, anymore. There is exactly one person who is allowed to tell me I have a nice body, AND I GUARANTEE IT ISN'T SOME RANDO IN WALMART.
UNLESS HE HAPPENS TO NEED SOMETHING FROM WALMART.
Anyway I got back from a night on the town with my dear pal midday. I ATE A LOT OF CAKE. A LOT. I can feel it trying to fight its way back up my throat, BUT GUESS WHAT CAKE, YOU'RE STAYING PUT.
Serious post goes down the drain, okay, before I spoil it more--
Saturday. 3.17.12 1:37 am
We were walking to the campus gym (well. One of them) and passed by the campus club for games, which essentially translates to twenty Magic matches going on in one room. My nostalgia pecked at my insides like a hungry bird.
"What are they doing?" She was staring into the room, her regular pout turned down more deeply into a disgusted frown.
"They're playing this game, Magic. It's sort of like a card game, but more like trading cards that you sort of send into battle. It takes some imagination. These are the people who play things like League of Legends and pre-order all the decent video games."
Maybe I didn't do a good job explaining who I am, or what my friends have been like in the past. Maybe I didn't describe him in full detail, either, because I was getting over him, sort of, in my own time. I was moving on. Maybe that was on me.
All the same...you don't make fun of people who play Magic. You don't talk about the guys at the table next to you, at dinner, and giggle about them, and joke that you're going to go hit on them for laughs, because they're five THOUSAND times the person you are, and I can say that WITHOUT EVEN MEETING THEM. You don't write people off for having interests that aren't widely socially-acceptable, because guess what? This is how nerds make friends. We find other people who like strategy games (because let's be honest, there aren't many good ones, anymore, that are normal, by society's standards), and we find the people who aren't drinking every weekend, and we sleep leaning against their backs while they play Magic until we start resenting the game, a little, and we end up thinking that they're the most wonderful, gentle people in the world, and that no one is so sensible without wanting anything that society says they should want.
And we end up feeling like CRAP when it's all passed and it's time to move on, because honestly it was the best three nearly-solid years in almost twenty years.
"...I used to like someone who would be right in there with them, had he gotten a scholarship here. Those are my people. Those are the people who gave a shit about me when people like you didn't."
I didn't end up going to the gym.
You know how I said I didn't have time for romantic interests?
My disinterest brings all the boys to the yard. And they're like, "You don't wanna date?"
Damn right, I don't wanna date.
I could teach you, but I'd rather run away.
...Anyway. I guess you could say I've gone out on a couple of extremely unsuccessful dates. My grades stayed put. The world didn't end.
Just...coffee. Like, what...is the deal...with coffee. What is the deal with dinner and a movie. WHAT is the deal with romantic walks.
Sure, they're fun, every once in a while, when a significant other and I are trying to be corny and typical. But like...if I'm going to take the time to get to know someone, and have that time possibly slightly ehhhgotowaste when we end up not clicking...well, frankly, I'd rather use that time hiking with him, or learning to salsa.
A lot of the time, I feel like I expect things that no one else expects out of people. I don't expect my dates to be emotionally open, but I do expect them to be interesting--that there won't be a moment during our conversation when I gain total awareness of the situation and visibly wince. I don't expect them to spend money on me (although the gesture to pay is incredibly sweet, and I will give them one polite out and one sincere out* before agreeing to allow it), but I do expect to feel like I'm doing something that's worth the time...something rich in experience.
Something as simple as carving pumpkins for Halloween! Get tiny $8 ones, you each get one, and there isn't some joint custody thing going on with one single pumpkin if you don't connect!
GAAHHHHAH NOT THAT HARD TO BE ROMANTIC BUT UNIQUE. Also carving pumpkins is excellent for people who enjoy using cutting instruments to create precise shapes and figures (i.e. people who are just itching to start practicing suturing on cadavers and bananas). Also I love carving pumpkins.
Also it's 3:16 and his internet shut down and I have work in the morning...but I was just talking to Magic Man. He made the same Kelis reference I did for a different subject, without knowing. Weird. Anyway, this is my official out for the night, because now I can assume that he is not getting back online, and I'm good to leave with a clean conscience.
*(And I'm not going to make myself seem more elegant than I am about things.)
Unicornasaurus, seeing the guy going to pay, grabbing her card: Ohmygosh, here, let me pay for my half.
Lovestruck fool: No, it's cool, I got it.**
Unicornasaurus: Are you sure? I like to flex my money muscles, since those are essentially the only ones I have.
Lovestruck fool, hopefully smiling: Yeah, trust me, it's no problem. Also your sexy and totally existent muscles are so sexy and bulgy or something.
Unicornasaurus: Well, thanks. I'll get dessert, okay? Also let's go make out, now that I feel like Arnold Schwarzenegger with boobs.
Lovestruck fool: Fair enough. I'm looking forward to caressing your muscular neck with my wimpy Man on a Date lips. It will be a little too moist, and I guarantee I will be terrible at French kissing.
Unicornasaurus: I'm so turned on right now. My backseat, ten minutes.***
** Being nonchalant about it and NOT acting like you don't do it by habit is extremely awesomeattractivesuperduper.
*** I don't actually say this...but the rest is totally valid.
Thursday. 3.8.12 2:21 am
I'M POSTING A VIDEO IT IS FUNNY GOOOOO
Thursday. 3.1.12 1:05 am
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