Savage Love Goes Political

Actually, he's been political for a long time. For those of you who don't know, Dan Savage is one of the funniest and most honest sex advice columnists out there. He is syndicated practically everywhere. Anyway, for a while he has been advocating for Straight Rights. He posits that policies of our government don't just damage the lives of gays or poor people, but actually screw up everyone's life. At the end of his advice columns he'll write about something that proves his point in a very scary way.

My friend, Daphne, emails her family and friends his articles once in a while. This time, I decided to spread the word one step further. Below is his latest Straight Rights Update. This one is very upsetting. To be pro-choice is turning into a fight for more than the right to an abortion.

STRAIGHT RIGHTS UPDATE: After tossing nearly half of last week's column away on a straight rights update, it was my intention to give it a rest. In fact, every time I write one of these I think, "Banning abortion, evicting unmarried straight couples and their children, moving to ban birth control-things can't get any worse, can they?" Oh, but they can: Not satisfied with meddling in the lives of the relatively small percentage of women who are pregnant, the American Taliban is moving to regulate the lives of all American women.

"New federal guidelines ask all females capable of conceiving a baby to treat themselves-—-and to be treated by the health-care system-—-as pre-pregnant, regardless of whether they plan to get pregnant anytime soon," reports the Washington Post. "[T]his means all women between first menstrual period and menopause should take folic acid supplements, refrain from smoking, maintain a healthy weight and keep chronic conditions such as asthma and diabetes under control... [I]t's important that women follow this advice throughout their reproductive lives, because about half of pregnancies are unplanned and so much damage can be done to a fetus between conception and the time the pregnancy is confirmed."

Color me paranoid, but ordering American women to regard themselves as "pre-pregnant" because they may harm a fetus they don't know they're carrying opens the door to prosecuting women who harm their fetuses by failing to regard themselves as "pre-pregnant." How long until "women should...refrain from smoking [and] maintain a healthy body weight" becomes "women must..." Does that sound paranoid? Well, so did a war on contraception once.

Oddly enough, Bush's Centers for Disease Control and Prevention doesn't urge straight men to regard themselves as existing in a perpetual state of "pre-fatherhood." Smoking, obesity, asthma, and diabetes could seriously hamper a man's ability to do the heavy lifting that comes with fatherhood. But Bush's CDC doesn't seem that interested in regulating the behavior of all those fat, smoking pre-fathers out there.

Gee. Isn't. That. Weird.

There is a bright side in the CDC's announcement: If we're going to regard all females as pre-pregnant, then we can, as my friend Gomez points out, regard all virgins as merely pre-fucked.

I keep thinking that all I need to do is hold out until 2008, but what if we don't make it that long? What if I have to break out before then? Because we could easily turn into an 1984, The Handmaid's Tale-esque society. And I'm a black woman, so you know I'm getting slammed first!

He's Officially Pathetic

I just heard a story on NPR. Apparently, the Rev. Al Sharpton has so graciously volunteered to be an expert witness in the hate crime trial of Nicholas Minucci, the Howard Beach resident who is accused of beating a black man, Glenn Moore, and using the N-word.

What, you ask, could Big Al testify to? What is he an expert in? Why...the history of the N-word! Yes, he wrote a letter to the Queens DA saying that he will testify to the history of that word.

That's funny...I don't remember hearing that Sharpton was a scholar of African-American history or etymology. I do remember him being a serious camera ho' who will do anything for a photo op.

He is such a joke.

The More Things Change...

So I'm back from my Reunion. I had a great time, saw old friends, reconnected with those I lost touch with, laughed, drank, danced. It was more interesting than I'm describing, but I think I'm still processing.

Something did happen this weekend that sort of knocked the wind out of me. I met a man who I've crushed on since college. Much drama has occurred with him in that time, some of which I was privy to. Due to that drama, I thought I was "over" him. However, seeing him this weekend reminded me how much I still dig him. I know there is interest on his part, but I don't believe anymore than any guy I like can like me back. So I am trying to dissipate the power of my crush by saying it out loud, like I did with my reunion anxieties. If I say it out loud, maybe it will go away.

Let's hope it works.

Admission is the First Step...

I had the hardest time falling asleep last night. I couldn't figure out why. I spent the evening getting intoxicated at a work event. It was very late at night; one could even say it was very early in the morning. I had to wake up at an ungodly hour to do all the things I should have done early in the week. Why, oh why, could I not sleep?

And then it hit me...I'm heading to my 10-year college reunion today. And I'm anxious about it. There are the expected anxieties: I've gained weight since college, I'm still single, blah, blah, blah.

And there are the bad timing anxieties...what regularly scheduled event that makes you moody and bloated would you not want to occur during a time when you want to look and feel your best? Yup.

And then there are the specific to me anxieties. Certain events this past week have brought into stark relief the part of college that was filled with bad decisions. The part where I was looking for something in all the wrong places and in all the wrong ways. The part where I spent so much energy morphing myself into someone I wasn't just to have a taste of what I was looking for. I am confident that I am not that person anymore...though she still exists somewhere in my psyche...but I'm anxious that the people I re-meet this weekend won't know that. That I'll be treated the same way I was in college. It's already happened once. I'll tell you about it in another post.

Once this conclusion came to me, I rolled over and fell asleep.

Addison Sheperd is a Murderer!

Kate Walsh, the actress who plays Addison on "Grey's Anatomy," was on "Law and Order" in 1997, playing a Navy pilot who killed her married lover who was going to expose her as being a bad pilot. I'm watching it now on TNT. I remember this episode...it's a good one.

Flummoxed

My sister is 21 years old. My sister bought a brand-new car yesterday. My sister is wrapped up with a man who is a playa...at the very least. My sister bought it herself with no help from anyone. My sister is in love with said playa. My sister's credit score is so great that she didn't have to put down a dime. My sister is going to be a senior in college. My sister has never had a full-time job that lasted longer than a summer.

I am totally blown away by the paradox that is my sister.

My Pop Culture Post

Several things I have observed in the past few days that I would like to comment on.

I'm watching The Natural this afternoon on Bravo. Everyone is in this movie: Glenn Close, Kim Basinger, Richard Farnsworth, Wilford Brimley, Barbara Hershey, even Michael Madsen. Not to mention Robert and his yummy self. It's slow, but compelling.

They are moving "Grey's Anatomy" to Thursday nights. I don't know how I feel about that. Part of the reason why I dig this show so much is because it makes my Sunday. On Thursdays, there is more of a pull on my time. Arghhh...will I not make plans on Thursday just to see my show? Inquiring minds want to know.

I saw The Da Vinci Code yesterday. Despite the hilarious review in the Times, I wanted to see it because I dig all the codes and symbology that runs through that story. However, that movie is bad. And not in a "so-bad-it's-good" way. The only part worth watching is Sir Ian McKellen's performance. He didn't just steal his scenes, he stole the whole movie. It's like Ron Howard, Akiva Goldsman and Tom Hanks just phoned in their work. As my friend, Ken said, it's like they dumbed down an already not-so-smart book. I'm going to start calling people "O Draconian devils" when they piss me off.

I also saw "Hustle" for the first time last night. I must say...Adrian Lester is much cuter with his natural British accent. Much cuter. He had this hot sex scene with this bitchy blond...it was quite lovely. Did I mention how much cuter Adrian Lester is with a British accent?

I think that's it for now.

The Way The Bourgeoisie Gets a Giggle

I'm not going to link you to a cartoon about Bush or post a mass email about the difference between men and women...I'm going to link you to the movie review of The Da Vinci Code in the New York Times.

This shit is funny!

"Girlfriends" is Back

The CW has finally released their fall lineup and, luckily, "Girlfriends" is in there. This is very fortunate because I actually like that show and, as Summer Breeze so aptly pointed out earlier this month, the season finale was an appalling ending. Now the writers have the chance to redeem Joan Clayton...and the show.

On another front, how stupid is this picture? What art director thought that putting them in white tops and multi-colored racing shorts would make them look sexy? The worst part of the picture is that everyone except Traci is wearing red heels. That's just dumb.

What I Was Going To Say...

...was that part of the reason I was feeling eh had a lot to do with the weather. Now that it's sunny, I'm feeling better. Of course, today it's raining again, so...never mind. I mean, I am feeling better, but it's not sunny.

What I have been slowly learning for the past 18 months or so is that my body is different than it was when I was in my 20s. And no matter what I do, it will not work the same way again. In my 20s, I had no problem exercising, regardless of stressors, diet, amount of sleep. In my 30s, all these components need to be just right if I want to feel motivated. And what's worse, exercise helps put those components in place. Curse the vicious circle!

My metabolism is changing. We all should eat healthily, but now I have to eat healthily if I want to function in the world with any enthusiasm. I can't go out every night without feeling completely run-down by Wednesday. This just didn't happen in my 20s.

There are other changes that have occurred in my 30s as well: I cannot settle for a job when I know that I have a career; my salary requirements have more than doubled since my 20s; I don't feel good anymore when I splurge shop, I feel good when my bills are paid (though this is a newer development); I can create my idea of home, it is not created for me.

I just wish that I could have the ease of living that I had in the 20s...physically, that is...with the knowledge and life stability I have now.

Skin Askew

All day I've felt out of sorts. Not sad necessarily, but just off-kilter. Like I put my skin on this morning, but it's slightly askew and it's been uncomfortable all day. I was me, but not me.

I swear to God, I better not be going through another depression.

That would suck.

More Great Quotes

Due to the fact that the phones and network connection are down in my job, I'm at home today. I'm watching "Judging Amy" and I just heard a great exchange.

Amy: Someday I'll find a man who thinks I am the meaning of life.

Maxine: Oh Amy, you won't find that. The best you can hope for is a man who doesn't care about the meaning of life when he's with you.

pause

Amy: If you and Lauren are up when I get back, let's get French toast at Callahan's.

Maxine: Now that's the meaning of life.

Inspired on the Subway

During the hours I spent on the subway yesterday, I read a really great poem that is part of the Poetry in Motion series. It's was so striking that I wrote it down in my journal and looked up the poet when I got home. The poet's name is Jelaluddin Rumi. He/She is a Sufi poet. I don't know what that means exactly, but I am going to find out. It still has stayed with me, so I want to share it with you:

"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
There is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
The world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
Doesn't make any sense."

What a great place...

Sunday Blues

This is the second Sunday in a row that I'm feeling down on a Sunday night. Perhaps the emotional roller coaster that is "Grey's Anatomy" leaves me spent every Sunday. It's like the entire week descends on me right when I'm getting ready to begin a new one.

I guess I shouldn't beat myself up too much. Today I visited my grandmother who is in a nursing home. She is suffering from dementia...has been for years. It has been slightly difficult for me to process for several reasons. The first one being that it seemed to happen overnight. She had a stroke one holiday season and that was the beginning of the end. Before then she was a vibrant, lively old lady. Traveled often, got herself around the city, even volunteered in a hospital. Now it's a crap shoot on whether she's going to recognize me when I visit her.

As I write this, I realize that her mental deterioration didn't happen overnight...it was gradual, but her first stroke did tip the scales. My dad says that her memory is deteriorating backwards...like a tape being erased from the end to the beginning. That means that she's going to forget my brother, then me, then my cousins, then my dad. Then she'll forget how to do basic bodily functions, including how to eat. It's very sad, but since my grandmother is in the middle of living it, it's just reality...you know?

It's also strange because I was never very close to her. My dad and his side of the family are Jamaican, but I was raised by my American mother. I was "the weird American cousin" to everyone but my dad. I inherited my grandmother's bosom, but that's about it. She didn't approve that I didn't believe in God, that I grew 'locks, stuff like that. One of the advantages of her dementia is that she doesn't remember any of that stuff!

I guess that's part of the reason why I'm blue. Add that to the myriad of other stuff I've put on this blog and that can equal one sad lady...at least for tonight.

That's What I'm Talkin' Bout!

The New York Times is my homepage.

I glance over it every morning to see what's brewing. There is this new feature that lists the top ten emailed articles. The article in the #1 slot is an article entitled, "What Is the Best Work of American Fiction of the Last 25 Years?" I click on it. The winner is...Beloved by Toni Morrison! The runners up are books by mainly white men. There is one white female and one black male author. All the rest are a combination of books by the same white men.

I am thrilled about this. I'm putting racial politics into this "artistic" decision...and I don't care. Toni Morrison is brilliant. Hands down. I finish her books and can't catch my breath because I am in awe that a human being created such beauty. That her novel was picked by her peers over the likes of Philip Roth and Don DeLillo is astounding to me.

Of course, the scholars will proclaim that race had nothing to do with it. That the best novel was chosen, despite the race of the author. To them I say...DAMN RIGHT THE BEST NOVEL WAS CHOSEN!

Then I say, race has everything to do with it. Toni Morrison has mentioned countless times that her experience as an black woman in this country has informed her writing. So one of the reasons that her book is the best is because she is an African-American woman! How wonderful is that!

I haven't read the essay by A. O. Scott yet, so I may have some addenda to this post, but I couldn't wait to scream this news from the rooftops!

P.S. When I first read the article, I yelled "wheuheu!" My good friend and colleague...who's a white male... in the next office asked me what the hubbub was. I told him Beloved was named the best novel in the last 25 years. He asked me, "What's Beloved?" I audibly sighed...loudly... and explained it to him. When I told him it was made into a mediocre movie, he got it. I sighed loudly again.

Simple Math

3 days of rain + 2 weeks of lots o' work =
1 woman who doesn't want to get out of bed!

Boys and Girls...the Lesson of the Day.

TV Gets a Bad Rap

I work in the world of theatre. And in that world, a lot of young playwrights look down on television writing. It's not as "pure" an artform as writing plays. People who go to the theatre shouldn't enjoy TV...it's beneath them.

However, you'd be surprised at how many successful playwrights write for TV. And there is some damn good TV out there.

Without a Trace" tonight, for instance. This episode has a black teenage boy and a white teenage girl disappear at the same time. It lays out pretty clearly the vicious cycle of institutional racism. The white girl gets all the media coverage, thus creating more leads for her case, thus forcing FBI resources to focus on her rather than the boy. The scenes between the two mothers are quiet and poignant. And the strife between the head of the department (played by Anthony LaPaglia) and his good friend and colleague (played by Marianne Jean-Baptiste) is fascinating. She tells him, "you were too arrogant to believe that this wouldn't touch you. This touches everyone."

The episode ends with the revelation that one teenager is dead and one is alive. Anthony's character walks up to both mothers to break the news...but you never find out who died.

I think there is real art in television. Not in every show, but it's out there. There...I said it.

I Just Saw the Funniest Thing

I turned on the TV and "Good Times" was on. It was the episode where JJ gets VD. Not any VD in particular, mind you...just VD. He goes to the clinic to get tested and Jay Leno is sitting next to him. How funny is that?

Now I'm watching How to Marry a Millionaire. Marilyn Monroe looks amazing! And the woman I was named after is in it as well.

The Power of Television

"The West Wing" is a better show than even they know. Last night's episode was all about CJ Craig and what job she was going to take after she leaves the White House. But it was really about what she was going to do with her life after she leaves the White House. It was about her taking the courageous step of falling in love with Timothy Busfield's character, Danny. It was really good.

The last scene of the show was so powerful for me that I cried. And kept crying for the rest of the night. CJ spoke of her "window being shut." The window of opportunity of learning how to be in a relationship, of how to share her life. She said that window was shut, that it was too late for her. Now she's just a woman who is good at her job, "good at working." Danny, being an unreal but perfect TV character, wouldn't let her settle for that. He told her, "you are allowed to be scared, but not scared enough to run away from this. I'm not that scary." How great is that!

After the episode was over, I went on with my night. I watched "Desperate Housewives" out of the corner of my eye while I gave Ella a haircut. That show is so bad now! I cleaned up and watched "Grey's Anatomy." I don't think that show can get any better! Then I walked Ella and started crying again. I wasn't sure why, but this morning I figured it out.

It's not that I'm lonely. I mean I am, but I'm sort of used to it. It's that I feel like my window is getting so small that there's no room for any opportunity to come through. I'm not old by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm not young either. All my life I knew that I would fall in love, get married and have a family. It was a given. For the first time, I'm grappling with the notion that it's not a given...that I actually may not find a person to share my life with. I know it's sounds melodramatic, but that doesn't mean that I don't feel it. I'm losing hope...and I feel like a part of me is dying.

CJ named something that I had been keeping inside for a long time. Damn that really good show!

I Can Understand

There is a great deal of talk about Iran. Nuclear plans, its disdain of the US, its support from China and Russia, the UN's reluctance to take action, the corner the American rhetoric is painting us in, all of it. Not only is American media talking about it, but world media is talking about it as well.

As I was listening to the BBC this morning, I found myself wanting to cover my ears and sing "lalalalalalalalala." I didn't want to hear it. All signs are pointing to another military action in the Middle East and that thought was so upsetting that I wanted to turn off the radio. Like that would make the prospect of hearing about another war go away.

As I was experiencing this, I could understand why the world thinks we're stupid. It's because so many Americans stick their heads in the sand. Sometimes doing that seems better than being reminded of the state of our Union.

Don't Sleep on Avon

It's a very busy time for me at work, but I was tired of the idea that my last post was the most recent thing I've written. So here are random musings that I've had this week.

1. Avon can be cool. My mom is an avid Avon fan. She could make a killing selling it, but she just stockpiles random Avon products and uses them to stuff Christmas stockings and goody bags. I usually didn't put much stock in their stuff. However, I got a bad batch of acne that left its mark. I ask my mom for a spot treatment to help lighten the scars and she sent me an Avon product. I have to say, that stuff works. I dab a little bit on every day and the markings on my face have become considerably lighter.

2. Vacuum cleaners...who knew? I know it gross to say this but I just got a vacuum cleaner for my living room rug last weekend. I've had Ella for almost four months. Her hair was so prevalent that it was lightening the color of the rug. I thought it was hopeless until I ran my little Dirt Devil upright over the rug. The transformation was amazing! The rug went back to its brilliant color. When I dumped the canister (it's a bagless vac), the amount of hair and dirt the vac had collected was a wonder to behold. It also has an attachment to use on furniture. When I ran it over my couch, the color of my couch got lighter a little bit. Fascinating things those vacuum cleaners are.

3. Exercise changes everything. I've been starting and stopping running again. This week is the first week that I've kept up my every-other-day schedule consistently. And I must say, I feel better. Not just emotionally, but physically. I was feeling pretty gross about myself (I gained a pants size and everything was fitting wrong). I don't think I've lost the weight after only a week, but I do feel better in my skin.

4. Keeping things hush-hush is really nice. Keeping some plans to myself takes the pressure off. I know me and if I broadcast them, I would feel the need to show my progress. This way they stay precious and keep to their goal of fortifying my soul.

5. I think I've found a way to get rid of my major bills by the end of the year. This spring has taught me how lean I can live. I don't even have to live as hardcore as I have been...just a fraction of it...and I can use the income to knock out some bills that have plagued me. Wheuheu!