Revel in the holidays

During the holidays, here's a festive wish for all you readers.

May there truly be "peace on earth, goodwill toward humankind."

In an age of instant gratification and super-speed anything, it can be difficult to remember that peace is an ongoing process.

May we all find our own way of continuing that process, however big or small it is.

Happy holidays from me.

Live through THIS!

Here's another music-themed post for you readers. I figured I needed a happier post.

Over Thanksgiving break, I went to the Dog Ear record store. They were having a HUGE sale to get rid of all their CDs before closing (sob!), so all the CDs were a couple dollars apiece. That was the only good thing about the sale. I got so many CDs--Tori Amos (Crucify), the Rock For Choice benefit album, Throwing Muses (pretty much all of them!), Ani DiFranco (Little Plastic Castle), and Live Through This by Hole.

Now you are probably wondering...what's with the Hole CD? Everybody knows them as one of the most abrasive and in-your-face bands of the 90s, fronted by none other than Courtney Love. And we all know how much crap has been said about Courtney. You either love her or you can't stand her. I wasn't planning originally to get the CD, but it was a dollar and I'd heard and liked some of the songs off of it. So why not?

After listening to it, I think it's one of the best purchases, CD-wise, that I've made. It's not perfect (no CD is, unless it's Dreamboat Annie or Different Light), but it's really big and loud and abrasive with intelligent lyrics. They sound somewhat like Babes in Toyland or the other Riot-Grrrl acts. Only Babes in Toyland merely chastise their former lovers. Live Through This releases the sonic hounds of Hades. Courtney's guitar playing isn't the greatest, and there are some songs that go on for a little longer than necessary, but on the whole, it's a good, solid CD. And frankly, I don't really care about what the tabloids say about its members (although I will say that Kat Bjelland wore babydolls before Courtney and Melissa did, thank you very much). I didn't buy the CD for the tabloid stories--I bought it for the music. And the music's actually some decent stuff. Totally worth another listen.

Activity grrrl

It's gonna be a crazy cycle if it continues, but...

I'm happiest when I'm really busy,
I'm the most stressed when I'm the most busy, and
I'm the most ready to scream and rip out all my hair when I'm the most stressed/stretched too much.

Does that make sense?

And FYI, the title is from my current theme song. Activity Grrrl by Joan Jett. Look it up. It may very well have been written about me/for me.

With all apologies to Jeff Foxworthy

Found this little pearl of wisdom when searching for some cool quotes. This ought to take my mind off of finals...for now, that is.

You might be a feminist if you're tired of being defined by who you date and having your accomplishments marginalized or ignored, or if you're sick of being "the woman behind the man."

You might be a feminist if you got angry because someone told you, "A guy who has sex has nothing to lose, but a girl has her reputation." (I didn't make that up, I saw it in the OBO.)

You might be a feminist if you've ever been legitimately angry and been accused of "just PMSing."

You might be a feminist if you think it's unfair for a rape victim to be asked if she's a virgin at her rapist's trial or when being examined in the emergency room.

You might be a feminist if the female members of your Homecoming and Prom Court were all cheerleaders, while you were on the volleyball team. If you've noticed a female sports star has to be an Anna-Kournikova-sex-symbol to get on a Wheaties box, while plenty of famous male athletes are about as appealing as Freddie Krueger... you might be a feminist.

If you want to be paid the same wage as a man who does the same work as you... Who are you kidding? You're a feminist. If you want to be offered an opportunity for career advancement, instead of having your boss assume that you'll be leaving in three years to have a baby, then face it - you're a feminist. If you don't think it's fair you have to pay $50 a month for your birth control while your insurance provider covers prescriptions for Viagra, you're a feminist.If you would like to see the wealthy nations of the world fight against global femicides, female genital mutilation, or honor killings - you might as well be a card-carrying feminist.

If you are not a feminist, at least in this most broad definition of the word, you're either a chauvinist, a misogynist or a doormat.

It's the least wonderful time of the year

It's only November, and I'm hearing Christmas music everywhere. I probably sound like a Grinch (or Grinchette?), but the finals are really starting to dampen my holiday spirit. I have a handful of invitations to holiday parties, and I've got the snack to pass, host gift, killer outfit, and fabulous mix CD some of the hosts requested to keep the party going. Now I need to muster up some Christmas spirit fast! Maybe that carol concert on Sunday will do the trick. Hope so, because no one wants a grinch at their party.

But first a carol for the long and bleak period that passes before the holidays. This period affects everyone, no matter if you celebrate Christmas, Divali, Rohatsu, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Ayyam-i-ha, Kwanzaa, the Solstice, or Atheists Get Presents Day. Everybody sing!

It's the least wonderful time of the year.
With textbooks for reading,
And discussions for leading,
It's a pain in the rear!
It's the least wonderful time of the year.

It's the most, most painful season of all.
With essays for writing,
And carpal tunnel for fighting,
So your grades will not fall!
It's most, most painful season of all.

You need Excedrin for migraines,
Exams cause your mind pain,
And coffee to drink all night and day.
Success you're not finding,
No time for unwinding,
No time for stopping halfway!

It's the least wonderful time of the year.
While outside it's snowing,
You just keep on going,
To avoid the failure you fear!
It's the least wonderful time of the year.

Everybody sing!
It's the least wonderful time,
It's the least wonderful time,
It's the least wonderful time of the year!

Application for Internship, Research, or Graduate Program

Name:
Address:
City:
State:
ZIP Code:

Year in school:
Program of study and Department name:

--If you are multi-lingual and have started up your own national charity, check here.
--If you have been offered a space on the US Olympic Team for more than one sport, check here.
--If you have cured any kind of cancer and have been considered for any kind of Nobel Prize, check here.
--If you have been selected the running mate of any presidential candidate, check here.
--If you are merely a smart, friendly, engaging, motivated individual who does well in class, has many interests, enjoys spending time with friends, and does volunteer and job work,
don't even consider applying.

Time-Tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right

Readers, let me draw your attention to the biggest laugh I've had in a while. It is called The Rules and is a collection of advice from writers Ellen Fein and Sherry Schneider. If you think playing hard to get is soooo last millennium, think again and read on. Basically, The Rules is a book that advises women to play hard to get and make their boyfriends do everything for them in order "to capture his heart." To me, it sounds like just about everything one should NOT do. I'm not a boy, and I'm not at all traditional or romantic, but these just go against plain old common sense. Here are some of the highlights, with my annotation in italics.

02: Don't Talk to a Man First (and Don't Ask Him to Dance)
Um, what if he's shy? If you don't make an effort to be friendly and sociable, guess what? He's going to think you're unfriendly and antisocial and not ask YOU to dance!
04: Don't Meet Him Halfway or Go Dutch on a Date
Honey, what are you dating? A man or a meal ticket?
05: Don't Call Him & Rarely Return His Calls
That's not playing hard to get, that's plain rude! If you don't return his calls, he's going to think you're not interested. You must make an effort to get an effort.
07: Don't Accept a Saturday Night Date after Wednesday
I can see this rule working if you're both busy or if you really don't like him. Otherwise, what's wrong with seeing him again?
08: Fill Up Your Time before the Date
Surprise, surprise, this one actually makes sense.
09: How to Act on Dates 1,2, & 3 End the date first especially if you like him.
Well, you have to like him, otherwise you wouldn't be spending so much time with him.
12: Stop Dating Him if He Doesn't Buy You a Romantic Gift for Your Birthday or Valentine's Day
This is the biggest bunch of BS I've heard. It shouldn't be about romance, it should be about what's personal. If you have allergies to pollen, flowers are hardly an ideal gift. If you're socially conscious and concerned about illicit financing for conflicts, diamonds are a terrible choice. That is hardly something to break up over. If there's something you've needed and are terribly interested in, don't whine if he gets it for you instead of getting you a bouquet. Don't break up, just buy the flower or candy for yourself! If you've made him pay for all your dates, Rules Girl, you should have enough money saved up to do that.
15: Don't Rush into Sex & Other Rules for Intimacy
I am not going to comment, as I don't care what you do and who you do it with. Just keep it consensual and adult, okay?
17: Let Him Take the Lead
Honey, this is the twenty-first century. It's okay to have your way sometimes. Just don't become bossy and mean.
20: Be Honest but Mysterious
You guys do need to know something about each other, or else you'll find out that you're hardly what the other wants. And by not telling him about yourself, it isn't intriguing, it's kind of stand-offish and rude.
23: Don't Date a Married Man
This one makes sense. Double surprise.
25: Don't tell Your Therapist You're doing The Rules
Well, of course you won't tell your therapist you're doing The Rules. If you did, she'd up your prescription because anyone who thinks these rules will work needs as much professional help as they can get.
26: Even if You're Engaged or Married, You Still Need The Rules
Honey, you never needed them in the first place.
27: Do The Rules, Even when Your Friends & Parents Think It's Nuts
It's not your friends and parents who find it nuts. It's everyone with a working brain.
30: NEXT! & Other Rules for Dealing with Rejection
There's only one rule for dealing with rejection. Lose this book and get some chocolate! Hell, if it's urgent, come find me and I'll give you the chocolate and a hug. And I won't preach on and on about how you should've done a bunch of silly rules.

The best and most ironic part of this is...the credentials of the authors! Are they psychologists? Are they social workers or teachers? Wait, are they marriage counselors or sex therapists? Noooo---they're...both divorced! See how fabulously effective making and following the rules is? Schadenfreude to the extreme!

How do I get you alone?

Well, in a communal bathroom, you're NEVER alone!

Okay. I will confess it. Sometimes I have some bad habits. Not everything I do is perfect (yes, I know, that's sooo hard to believe!), and there are times when I can embarrass myself.
So the other day I was showering, and I succumbed to one of my annoying habits: singing in the shower! The shower stall in my dorm has the most perfect acoustics ever, and I took good advantage of them! Now, I'm not talking about little humming here and there. I'm talking the big stuff. I'm talking big, loud, putting-American-Idols-to-shame BELTING! Oh yes, a grl with a weak voice can belt. So I was on my way of becoming the next Shower Idol, with my oh so fabulous set of "Alone," "Mob Rules," and the Mary Tyler Moore song. And of course I can hit those notes and howl on the first two. A weird mix, to be sure, but it was on my mind and needed to be sung!

When I was done with cleaning, drying, and moisturizing myself and had put on my robe, I emerged from the shower. And what do you think happened? ALL of the grls in the bathroom immediatedly stared in my general direction and began clapping and cheering!
At least they were entertained. They're probably wondering who that crazy singing chick is.

Curtain Call

I know how much your new toys cost,
Cause you've told me a million times.
I know how popular you think you'll be
When you feed them the same stale lines.

I know you need more people like you.
Someone like me is only good for hired help.
You express concern if it makes you look good,
And when you're surrounded by folks like yourself.

You're cute when you think I listen,
It's precious when you think I care,
You think the world is in your hands,
When in reality you have no one there.

So drop the guise of sophistication.
This mask of perfection will surely fall.
Just quit trying to fake it.
We know your performance won't make it
When it comes time for your curtain call.

There's a reason your old days are over.
Now we're in the modern age.
The spotlight is on, it's time for a bow--
And you're not the only one on this stage.

Acting up again

Today Alex is going to teach you about acting. No, this is not your high school drama class but more of a linguistics lesson. ACT is the root word of action, active, and (my favorite) activist. You cannot take action or call yourself an activist or be active without acting upon what you believe first.
Now I am not saying for everyone to be as off-the-wall involved as I am. I know that lifestyle of always being on the go is not for everybody, so that isn't what I'm promoting. What I AM promoting is taking a stand, living out what you believe. It doesn't matter what you take a stand on, as long as you let your actions show what you feel is true.
I have met many in my time who have had incredibly strong opinions on a subject and appearred to want to defend said opinions to the death if the occaision neccessitated it. However, when they were around certain people, all their resolve just dissolved and they seemed to go along with statements they were previously saying they disagreed with. Then there are others who do seem to have a genuine concern for their beliefs, only to live their lives like those ideas had never even been thought of.
Before I go any further, I will say that I'm not trying to make everyone turn into a carbon copy of me. I know I'm not perfect and that defending some of my own ideas has on many occaisions spiraled into an all-out war. I once caused a scene on a Pace bus because a classmate was bloviating on and on about how "women have it too good these days." Another time I stormed out of a church and have been asked not to return since that time (well, now it doesn't matter ever since I converted and have no intention of coming back). I know I've gone against some of the standards my parents have, and being so opinionated is probably why I attract (and scare off!) the kinds of guys I do. It's understandable if someone doesn't want her actions to spiral into something uncontrollable.
What I'm saying, though, is that anyone can live their beliefs and that it only takes incorporating that into one's everyday actions and words. Don't say you're into multiculturalism but then complain about "those damned [insert racial/ethnic/religious slur here]s taking over our town." Don't call yourself a feminist but then go along with everything your husband or boyfriend says, even if you would rather eat a tapeworm than agree with it. If you're promoting a healthy body image, avoid picking on your girlfriend if she's not as perfectly thin and slender as your buddies' girlfriends or the grls in the (ahem) magazines you buy. And please, for all of our sakes, don't laud the merits of good environmental stewardship but then drive around a big fat gas guzzler and throw your trash out the window!
Taking a stand is as simple as avoiding behaviors you would find reprehensible in someone else. It's as easy as considering how your actions affect others, especially those you claim to support. It's a deceptively simple, almost democratic process, as anyone can do it. Activism and action start small, but that's the most important and fundamental part of it. You can't have the big actions without the small ones first.

A Night To Remember

Well, my tremendous high I described earlier just got higher. TODAY was THE PANEL...the one that had been consuming my thoughts and actions all month! Now it is over, and all I can say is WOW.

We got a fabulous turnout and a beautiful room in the union. The room had hanging lights, painted portraits, and mirrors lining it, and there were lots of little tables and chairs. I made use of one of those little tables to put my pro-choice goodies and email listing. We nearly filled the room. It's a little hard to tell exactly how many people were there because some left early and some came late, but I am not complaining.

The panel got off to a rocky start because one of the presenters didn't show up. I was a little nervous when I went up to speak, but I got some good applause and the presenters all thanked me. We had two folks from the Office of Women's Programs, one from RCS, and one from the Sexual Health peers. They were great! They had a great dynamic and really played off of one another's views really well. Pat from OWP told some of her personal stories, and she was really aggressive and driven. Suzanne and Kim were more calm and rational. And Ross was just his male-feministic self. They briefly discussed some of the basics of being pro-choice, and then the questions came fast and furious! There were people from all kinds of political/experience/age/past backgrounds, and it was neat hearing what they had to say. Even the pro-lifers in the audience. I'm not into their viewpoint, but they were nice and polite about it, which is good. The chairman of the Champaign County Democrats, Tony Fabri, even showed up and it seemed like he was really getting into it (of course I know him from my many events with those Dems, and he's even on the Fem Maj listserv). It was more of a discussion than one or both of us standing up and screaming our heads off! My favorite part was when Pat began talking about comprehensive sex education and Plan B accessibility and legal abortions, because she then said, "And I am especially grateful to ALEX here, who has been fighting ceaselessly to get these for all of us!" I'm in the front row, so I'm sure she saw my face-cracking grin! And there were lots of plugs for the fabulous Feminist Majority Foundation, and lots of them thanking me for bringing them out. Afterward, I made the rounds, thanking people for coming, and I got a lot of people thanking me for hosting the panel (including those Illini For Lifers, who said that it was interesting and that they'd like to have me discuss my views with them). After the panel, I gathered up my stuff and met my friends Celine, Lihy, and Amy at Espresso Royale, where we discussed all sorts of liberal topics over coffee until the late hours of the night. Celine and Amy really came through; Amy by offering extra credit to her students for coming and Celine by making enormous banners for it at Allen.

Then, today, my inbox was flooded with emails from people thanking me for putting on the panel. Tony wrote that there was a lot of stuff covered that even he didn't know. The other panelists seemed to enjoy being there. We got several new prospective members for Fem Maj, who wrote to inquire about it. All in all, a night to remember and definitely something to put on for next year!

May the memory be eternal

So my favorite music store EVER is set to close its doors. That's right, Dog Ear Records is closing and everything's going--the store, the recording studio, and the film festival the owner puts on. That might not mean anything to you folks outside The LC, but for me, it's a big deal. Dog Ear was what facilitated my audiophilia, my love of music. When I started getting into my fabulous classic rock artists, I was halfway through sixth grade. Twelve years old and a budding audiophile. My sister and dad and I got our hair cut at Images in Libertyville, and after the trim, it was fun to drive a minute or so to Dog Ear and pick out some new-to-us CDs. Dog Ear was owned by a married couple, and they were running the whole show (including Rainbow Recording Studio in the basement and the fall film festival they sponsored). To add to the cool factor, they were also HUGE contributors to LaCASA (as I found out from my stint with them over the summer). As I initially started off liking classic rock, bands that had been around for a while, it was really easy to find the CDs I wanted. I can remember some of the first ones I ever purchased: Different Light (Bangles), Dreamboat Annie (Heart), Kindred Spirit (Kindred Spirit), Tangled and Fur (Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Go's), and Pleasure Victim (Berlin). You know how much I love music, and it's probably easy to tell why I'm going to miss that place so much. It's really sad to hear of it going, and a real loss for The LC. Now there are no more used record stores at all. Music Recyclery in Gurnee Mills closed, only to re-open very briefly as the horrendous mess known as "Fourth-Price Media" (a remainder store lacking the organization, variety, and nice mohawked-and-pierced salespeople). FPM didn't last more than a few months. Then Play By Play in Waukegan switched to mostly new stuff and mostly rap (yecchhh...). There's Borders Outlet in Gurnee Mills, but that's all overstock (and the CD selection isn't good at all--mostly the Christmas albums they couldn't sell during the winter. Which is fine for Christmas, but that only happens once a year!). Dog Ear remained as the only used record store. Now wherever will I find my rare and cheap CDs and merch?

Rest in peace, Dog Ear. You live on in my heart and in my CD player.

Just what I needed

Maybe some good old grl-powered discussion is just what I've been needing all along. I'm on this tremendous high from (1) discussing Female Chauvinist Pigs with my friend Liz at the Feminist Majority book club and from (2) meeting the campus organizer from said national organization. She's a nice lady and had some good ideas for the group.
Tomorrow is the panel we've been working really hard with. I'm looking forward to that.

Blood on their hands

I sent out two emails to two of the local galleries to see if they wanted to consign me. I figure someone will be interested sooner or later. Both were looking for artists, and they seemed pretty legit from my research, so I sent out some emails to inquire.

This brings me to the whole concept of the production and materials used in my jewelry. Most of the Revel accessories are made with glass beads, but I've come to market them as "mixed media." I'll experiment with just about any kind of material. Some of it works and some doesn't, but at the very least, I can't say anyone's failed to notice it. I've prided myself on making things that nobody else has and that always manage to get attention.

The most common metals and stones I use are sterling silver and hematite. Sterling is the default metal because people don't usually have allergies to it, and it's relatively easy to come by. Hematite just makes everything look better. I don't usually add gemstones unless they come in the charms or settings I pick up. Many are WAY out of my price range, but there are times when I need to use them to create the piece. So I pick them up wherever they are sold. Personally, I don't like diamonds. Don't much like wearing them and I find them a little too bland for what I make. Plus, they're extremely expensive. But there are times when I get a commission, and the person has a very clear idea of what they want. I had a friend have me make her something to match a bridesmaid dress, and it required gemstones to match her sparkly gown. I donated a set to an auction that had little diamonds in it because the auction's theme was James Bond 007 in '07 (diamonds are forever--get it?). Most of the ones I use are smaller and a lower quality because they're easier to come by. That's just the way my budget works, and the people I design for don't have a problem with it.

But here's where a socially conscious artist has problems. We had to watch the Blood Diamond movie in one of my classes, and in another, we watched The Diamond Empire. I liked them both, but it was really shocking to see just how gemstones (not just diamonds but gems in general) are mined and marketed. Many of them have child laborers, and the profits don't even go to the laborers but rather to cartels or kleptocratic governments. They just go to finance conflicts (hence the term blood diamond). A kleptocratic government is a government whose policy is generally one of theft. And that is exactly what the gemstone marketers do. They make contracts with these governments to control the market. The most famous company, De Beers, has a monopoly on the market for diamonds because they control exactly what goes into the stores. Of course, it doesn't help that they've got a very ingenious marketing campaign and partnerships with Hollywood to put their products into movies. Their business practices are hardly what you would call ethical, and it was pretty gross to see all of that.

Now this calls into question as to what I should do to make my jewelry. I know I don't often use diamonds or really expensive gemstones, but there are certainly times when I do. It's not that much, but still, the items I purchase could be supporting something nasty. And being a member of all sorts of human rights organizations, it would be hypocritical to just ignore the issue. I wonder if there is a way the companies could market their gems to say if they were conflict-free or something like that. If worst comes to worst, I'll just switch to secondhand ones. They're the real thing, and the money doesn't go anywhere near financing conflicts. It just goes to the seller.

I like pina coladas but NOT getting caught in the rain

Okay, Your Humble Narrator has had enough of talking in Nadsat for now. You know how some writers/comedians can sound either really cool or really annoying when they just throw snippets of some language into their lines? Well, after reading my last post, I sound like the latter! So no more Nadsat, for now...You sloochy?

Typical fall weather. I am running late to class, so I snatch my backpack, hurriedly toss my books into it, and run like hell to the psychology building where the class is. In my hurry, I have failed to bring my coat. Not that it matters, I've got on two shirts and a fleece, so it shouldn't be so bad...

After class, I am walking back with a friend who lives nearby, when ALL OF A SUDDEN it just DUMPS BUCKETS AND BUCKETS of SLANTY RAIN! You cannot escape because it's slanted and gets under everything! So needless to say, my three tops and pants and shoes were all drenched and soaked through. The friend I was walking with had on a black jacket, and by the time we got inside the union to try to wait out the rain, his coat looked all shiny like it was made of leather. The dye on his shirt had started to drip. My eyeshadow was running down my face like a midnight blue river of redemption. And since neither of us had an umbrella, we had our books and texts and everything in our backpacks dripping from the rain.

I can almost hear my mother now. She's always saying, "Make sure you bring a coat!"

So what's it gonna be then, eh?

After meeting with my droogs at the dorm and changing my platties for the night, I made up my rassoodock and figured that I would practice my makeup and costume on my oddy knocky so I would have it down all horrorshow for the Halloween dance. I began to paint up my right glazzy with drawn-on false lashes. I don't like actual falsies because they stick to my litso, so I figured I would paint them on with the same effect. What is that fake luscious glory even made of, anyway? It was going pretty choodessny for Your Humble Narrator, o my brothers and sisters, until this devotchka from my floor comes into the bathroom. She nachinats to wash her hands, acting all nonchalant-like, when she viddies my right glazzy all painted up and beauteous. She does the old elevator-glazzball, viddying me up and down, and the expression on her litso was totally precious! A look I can totally kopat, much less never forget! She's got her gulliver all craned up to try and figure out just why I look this way, and she's looking like she's just beholding something from another planet!

I sure do love attention. I'm not the best at swing dancing because every time I forget the moves, but it'll be horrorshow to see the reactions of the other droogies! That poor cheena in the bathroom. Guess she's never heard of A Clockwork Orange!

(*Oh yes, my brothers and sisters, if you're of the poor deprived bunch who hasn't read it either, I'd suggest you get your paws on a copy. I'm going as a grl version of Little Alex for Halloween, and it just ain't complete without talking in Nadsat! I figure it'll be fun because Little Alex is absolutely nothing like me.)

It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me...

...AND I'M FEELIN' GOOD!

This semester sure is going by fast. I was looking for costume ideas for my Halloween costume, and it's hard to believe that the end of October is so close! It's certainly an exciting one. I've got three folders by my desk, one for each of my big organizations: the crisis intervention, the Democrats, and the feminists. I have the blog for the Krannert bookmarked so I can contribute to it. My inbox is always crowded with emails from all my clubs. My three programs of study are going amazingly, and my GPA has never been better. One of my professors is trying to convince me to make one of the minors into a major. (Three majors?? Aieee!!!) Then one of the staff at the office of the women's programs has been asking me to become a fycare facilitator because he says I'd be good at it. That will probably have to be for senior year.

I feel like a powerhouse. Nothing can stop me. I feel like I'm just gathering steam. The more I know, the more I want to know. Don't know how long this high is going to last, but it feels good when it's there.

A feminist and a lady?

Interesting. All I can say is interesting.

So last weekend was the big political social. I went to the one in the spring, and since I had such a good time at that one, I had to go to the fall event. Because I've been so active in the planning committee, the county board decided to reward me and nine of my fellow planning buddies with an invitation. So off we went to the union hall for some tasty catered food and beverages, music, and liberal-flavored fellowship.

It was good seeing so many people I remembered from last year. I know several of the public figures of the county, and they remembered me. Several planning buddies who graduated were also there. They took it upon themselves to introduce the current members to everyone. Which was nice of them, since they have the "insider's" view on the current local government.

But one of the graduate friends made a statement that really confused me. When he was introducing me to one of the county board members, his statement went like this, "And this is my friend Alex, a feminist and a lady."

This statement really confused me. I think he meant it as a compliment, but from what he said, it sounds like he thought the two are mutually exclusive. What does that mean, anyway? I mean, yes, I am a feminist and a very outspoken one at that. I'm active in one of the premier women's organizations on campus, I've acted in The Vagina Monologues for two years, I have dedicated my time and energy to the rape crisis movement, and I've been to women's conferences and fundraisers. Everyone there knew that. But I'm still trying to figure out what he meant by a lady. It's not pointing out my gender (anyone can tell that just by looking at me). Is it to say that one cannot be both and that I've managed to reconcile the two? Or is it to "excuse" the fact that I am strong and successful on my own terms (i.e. it's okay to be like that as long as I subscribe to accepted gender norms)? I do have manners, I try to dress appropriately (hell, I know I'm a fashionista), and I try to treat everyone well. But I know lots of people who do that too, so there's proof that the two are not exclusive. And what about guys who are for women's causes? Do we have to "excuse" their views by pointing out the fact that they behave according to societally determined gender norms? I mean, there was a male member of NOW there, but I didn't hear anybody introducing him as "a feminist and a man," or even more ridiculous-sounding, "a feminist and a gentleman."

Well, according to this introduction, I am a feminist and a lady--and both of them are confused. I'm still trying to figure out what that meant.

Gather round for a sing-a-long!

I'm drenched with sweat like a day in the sun.
I fought the test and the test won.
I took the test and the test won.
I needed luck cause I feared I had none.
I took the test and the test won.
I fought the test and the test won.

Scared about my score, and it feels so bad.
Before I see it, I better run.
If my parents hear of this, they're gonna get real mad.
Cause I fought the test and the test won.
I took the test and the--

Stayin' up late cramming is no fun.
Then I took the test and the test won.
I fought the test and the test won.
Scanning the pages and drinking coffee by the ton,
I fought the test and the test won.
I took the test and the test won.

I'm freaked about my score, and it feels so bad.
I had to rush to get it done!
My fingers are screaming 'bout the torture they just had.
I took the test and the test won.
I fought the test and the test won.
I fought the test and the test won.
I took the test and the--

~To be sung to the tune of "I Fought the Law" by The Clash. Preferably done in as raucous a manner as possible with pencils and pens banging out the beat.

Living in a time of inconvenience at an inconvenient time

If anything else, my job is making me learn all about just how cruel and heartless and downright repulsive people can be.

But other parts of it are making me realize just how good and kind and understanding people can be as well.

No training today due to Columbus Day/Dia De La Raza/the day everyone else got off but us. When you've got a lull between training sessions, it gives you time to think and digest just what you've been learning. You really learn a lot when you go into crisis intervention.

I don't want my MTV

Finished my homework early today! Since I've become the queen and tyrant of scheduling, and now that I've got training, I have become insanely good at getting exactly what I want done.

So I checked my email and found that one of my friends had sent me a link to the MTV website, as they were having a special on the "first ladies of rock." She knows I like my chick rockers, which I suppose was a nice gesture...

But after watching the special online, I've come to a disappointing conclusion. Programs like MTV and VH1 and even certain magazines that promote the newest and hottest rock songs are showing all the intelligence of, well, a rock.

How else do you explain their pathetic choice in "women in rock?" Okay, I'll concede that Christina Aguilera has a very talented stylist and that Shakira is indeed wearing a Guns N Roses tee in the photo shoot, but the last time I checked, they weren't what anyone would call "rock" in the least. Maybe I'm a little naive to expect any glimmer of musical credibility OR sense from programs whose main features are reality shows featuring actors who appear to have seen too many reality shows themselves. The thing is, as a musician and self-proclaimed audiophile, it's incredibly hard to find any kind of recognition or respect for real talent. Especially if the performer with said real talent happens to have two X chromosomes. So, like so many times before, I find myself short thirty minutes of my precious time and majorly annoyed!

Okay, so Lindsay Lohan tries to sing and then gets into trouble for her drug use. So now she's "the voice of the rebellious youth?" Are you kidding me?? And can someone please explain to me why everyone keeps on referring to Carrie Underwood and Kelly Clarkson as rock? Weren't they doing that whole ballad belting routine on American Idol a minute ago? Yeah, Kelly's started wearing a studded belt and picking up the tempo on her new album. Big deal. She was wearing an evening gown and crooning "A Moment Like This" before that. Whatever is trendy, I guess. But who cares? Their poor choice of "first ladies of rock" reminded me a lot of those asinine Sports Illustrated swimsuit editions. I suppose there's nothing necessarily wrong with the airbrushed models inside, but we all know they have, well, nothing to do with sports. Which is not doing anything for women who may be interested in sports or who play them for a living.

Amy Lee from Evanescence was the only actual "rock" artist featured on that program, and she was treated more like a novelty than a serious act. Fergie and Jessica Simpson, who have always been billed as "dance," were featured in greater depth and more seriously.

If the special had been called "First ladies of pop" or "Some cute young girls with new records out right now," I wouldn't have any problem with it. Call me crazy, but using the word rock is still taken seriously by some of us. Use it to describe Lindsay Lohan, and you've just turned your program into the joke of the century.

And by the way, I don't want my MTV.

It's time for a few small repairs

Sunny came home to her favorite room.
Sunny sat down in the kitchen.
She opened a book and a box of tools.
Sunny came home with a mission.
She said, "Days go by, I don't know why
I'm walking on a wire.
I close my eyes and fly out of my mind
Into the fire."
Sunny came home with a list of names.
She didn't believe in transcendance.
"It's time for a few small repairs," she said.
Sunny came home with a VENGEANCE.
She said, "Days go by, I'm hypnotized.
I'm walking on a wire.
I close my eyes and fly out of my mind
Into the fire."
Get your kids and bring a sweater.
Dry is good and wind is better.
Count the years you always knew it.
Strike a match--GO ON AND DO IT!
Oh light up the sky, and hold on tight.
The whole world is burning down.
She is out there on her own and she's all right.
Sunny came home.
Sunny comes home.

--"Sunny Came Home" by Shawn Colvin (whom I saw at the Wall to Wall Guitar Festival)

I love this song. I think I have at many times in my life felt like I could identify with the story of Sunny. No, I'm not an arsonist, and I don't have kids. But there are several times when I've wanted to set fire to everything I ever was and completely emerge as something new. And many times, I have. After grade school, I didn't want to be known as the shy girl who got picked on, so I tried making more of an effort to be outgoing and to try to get to know everyone from every "social strata" of high school. It got me lots of invitations and social plans. There were still some people who didn't like me, but don't you find that everywhere? Both of those places, unfortunately, were extremely whitebread and conservative, so I still didn't feel as comfortable or fitting in as I could have. Like the song, I felt that I literally had to "walk on a wire" to stay in line and not get stigmatized or picked on. Plus, in high school, you see the exact same people day after day, so any efforts to change yourself would be noticed and looked down on. Enter college. I finally discovered a place (or several places in the college) where I could be exactly as I wished. Yeah, not everyone is my friend, but at least I can choose not to be around those people. I could be proud to be pro-choice instead of keeping it hushed up (and I could talk about that debate in any of my organizations). I could participate in several demonstrations and rallies and meet all kinds of cool people like me. The shy girl from grade school wouldn't recognize the over-the-top activist who cites talking about vaginas on stage as one of her crowning achievements! (And she would probably be wondering who those people were in the audience! Not to mention wondering who would ever write a play about the vagina.) The girl I was in high school wouldn't have the nerve to try going to a cluster event with people she didn't know--much less wind up joining said cluster and making friends with everyone there! And NEITHER of them would have the nerve to staff an event called SEX OUT LOUD or the passion to advocate for sexual assault survivors. You see? I'm not the type to be impulsive, but there are times when a change is needed.
And these changes are mostly good ones. I've been happy with all of them, and all of my friends have been so supportive of me. My parents have called me "heroic" from time to time, even though I don't consider myself the hero/role model type. (Then again, no matter what you do, some one is going to see you as a role model.) They've even tried doing some of the events I've participated in so they can see just what all the fuss is about! And all of this change has brought about so much opportunity for me it's amazing. It really is. But why settle for anything less?

Alex in Wonderland

Now this is cool--one of the theater troupes at my school is putting on Alice in Wonderland, with a modern twist!
I sure want to see it. People call it a kids' classic, but it's really just as trippy as when you read it when you're older. I didn't read it until last summer. I think the reason people call it a kid book is because you can probably appreciate the scattered storyline better when you're a kid. When you're a geezer like me, you start trying to make sense of it, and the mind-altering nature of the book takes its hold on you. I read both Alice and Through the Looking-Glass this summer in about three days. They're so good, but trippy as all get out.
But what a following it has. Even though the Disney version didn't do it justice in the least bit, it has amassed its own culture and following. So much artwork and music and characters and kitsch-culture has been inspired by it. The Beatles reference it in "I am the Walrus" (ever wonder who the egg man is?). The band Jefferson Airplane has several songs inspired by it, and their singer, Grace Slick, is now a painter who makes lots of fanciful, Alice-esque pictures. Made me realize why they took all the drugs they did--they probably needed them to make that book seem normal! Guess the hallucinogenic effects of one cancel out the hallucinogenic effects of the other.
So for the play, the theater troupe had better keep it faithful to the story and find a way to make it as warped as possible! I can't wait till they're showing it.

Under the summer rain, I burned away

Well, this is funny to have two summer-song titles for blog titles! Only AFI rocks a bazillion times harder than Seals and Crofts (then again, that's not very hard to do). It did rain a bit today, but that is not the subject of my post.

Yesterday was the LAS career night. I was kind of disappointed with it, because there was not much of a diverse group of people to talk to. I am talking about diversity in majors. Most of the people there were alumni who had become bankers or doctors, with LAS majors in Economics or Finance or any kind of Biology. When you're majoring in English with a double-minor in History and Gender/Women's Studies, there really weren't many people there to talk to or relate to. There were absolutely no GWSers, and the history folk I saw all had "law" added to their field. But I met a few cool people including some folks who work at RCS. So it wasn't a total waste. I didn't press and starch up my power clothes for nothing.

Then the meeting for one of my clubs. I'm an "officer at large" at one of them, so I have to go to the planning committee meetings. I love the planning committee for the most part because it's a great look at what goes on behind the scenes. And being on the planning commitee means that you are qualified to go to the county events as well. So I head up to the meeting (which is just one floor up from the career fair) with a fabulous array of ideas for the club. But what a shock! Only a third of the officers are there, and the meeting was lackluster. The girl who's the president looked like she needed a nap and she acted like she was about to doze off any second. I laid out my fabulous ideas, but people had next to no response to them other than "Whatever you want, Alex." I asked them if they could help me/if they had questions/comments/whatever, but alas, no response. Everyone was painfully silent.

The meeting was over. I gathered up my stuff, much discouraged, and began to head out. But who should I hear but Abby the social director? "Hey, Alex, wait up. I've got something to ask you!"

Aha! Someone cared! I was all ready to hear her questions and enlighten her with my fabulous ideas. All was not lost! Then she continued--

"I've been wondering this for a while, but I usually haven't gotten around to asking..."

"What's that, Abby?"

"Where do you get your clothes? I just love the little outfits you always wear."

Sigh.

Summer breeze...makes me feel fine

This sure has been one unseasonably warm September. The forecast for this week ranges from the high seventies to the nineties. I remember last year on my birthday I was wearing two shirts and tights under my skirt. This year, it felt like a summer day. It's more summer weather (but then again, this was a really hot summer) than fall type.
Well, that's good for going tailgating on the weekend and for going out. Who wants to get dolled up and go out and freeze? No one! Hopefully we have a warmer winter. I liked having the snow day last year, but I didn't like plodding through the snow to get to play practice or to run errands. One of the days in early November (I believe it was the day I saw the playhouse dance), the high was nine degrees. If I'm going to be taking the bus to get to work, I sure as hell don't want to be waiting out in the cold (my clients had better appreciate that!).
Guess the clothes and gear and chocolate perfume I bought for the fall will have to wait. I love fall fashions, but there's a time and place for those. This ain't it.

Two outta three ain't bad

So yesterday I went to see the acoustic set of the Pygmalion music festival. I had such a good time at it last year that I had to go again! This show had two things going for it from the start: being at my absolute favorite coffeehouse in this area and having last year's headliner, Ms. Lynn O'Brien (I've seen her twice). There were four other acts, three of which I'd never seen.
So my friends Addie and Kelly and I headed over to Paradiso, and the place was PACKED. Had we gone later, there would've been standing room only. It was packed, with the singers by the window. There was a miramba player who did her instrumental part before and between acts, and she had a cool sound. Kinda hypnotic, and kind of sounding like it came from outer space or something.
Lynn was the first act. I loved her at last year's show and at my feminist conference, but here she was even better. She was performing by herself (instead of with her family members backing her up) and she's really matured as an entertainer. She is a lot more confident and played some crowd-pleasers toward the end (my favorite is this slinky number called "Italy"), calling for the audience to join her in. My statement about her last year still holds--her music packs a groove so deep you need thigh-high leather boots to get through it! Only this time add some stiletto heels to the boots!
The second act was a guitarist named Angie Heaton. She sounds something like Shelby Lynne or Sheryl Crow, kind of old-time sounding rock but with some alt-folk thrown in there. She had a violinist play with her, which added a mournful tone to her tales of love and loss. She got the timid miramba player in on the fun by asking her to play along. Now I know what you're thinking. "A miramba for a bass line, Alex? Are you serious???" you ask. Well, let's just say that it sounded pretty damn cool! Angie's voice and stage manner have a sassy swagger to them, which is incredibly addictive!
Now for the third, this guy named Ryan Groff took the stage. Let's just say we didn't get past the first song. I don't know where this guy learned to sing or write, but he sang in this horrendously warbly falsetto and had some of the worst lyrics I've heard (the most clever line was a warbled-out "the people of the Midwest have giant hearts inside their chests," which was absolute torture to listen to). I felt like my eardrums were being churned up in a blender just listening to him (and he was one of the quieter acts)! So we left after that song, but hey, at least we got two good acts out of the deal. And I know who to avoid and who to see at next year's Pygmalion.

My birthday!!

I'm now officially the g-word: a geezer!

But I'm older and wiser and more opinionated than ever, and dammit, I love it!!!!

Ay, Wednesday is such an awkward day for a birthday, especially if you scheduled an interview the next morning! This weekend is sure to be fabulous, since the Pygmalion festival begins today and I will be off and rocking!

Still, I think this has been a good birthday. My buddies have been so cool and have planted surprises for me throughout the day! I've arranged all the cards I received up on my wall, and it's been a really good time. I can't wait till the weekend!

Star-struck

Some days I just plain don't get it.

One of my good friends reads the tabloid magazines with all the hot new gossip. She says it keeps her sane when she studies for her LSATs. Two years ago, my then-roommate gave me a gift set with an assortment of perfumes. I love perfume and beauty products, and I noticed that many of them were from a famous person's own line. Provocative Woman (by Catharine Zeta-Jones), Lovely (by Sarah Jessica Parker), and Golden Goddess (by Kimora Leigh Simmons) to name a few. (Actually, that Provocative Woman one is pretty good, and I wear it a lot.) At the two vintage boutiques I frequent, Dandelion and Le Shoppe, it's always the clothes endorsed/designed by the stars that sell the fastest. My cousin couldn't wait to tell me about spotting Vince Vaughn at Once Upon A Bagel because Mr. Vaughn lives in Highland Park too. Back in senior year of high school, people talked and heard more about Brangelina than about the awful tsunami in Asia. And I'm sure if you asked anyone, they could tell you more about Paris Hilton's prison term than about what's going on in the world now.

So my question is...
What in the world is our preoccupation with celebrities? Could someone explain that to me, please?

Now before you accuse me of acting all high and mighty, I will say that I too have read some of the celeb articles. As a designer of accessories, some of my ideas do come from what I see on others, so I have read up on them. But that is my disclaimer. Most of the time, it really gets annoying when people are all gaga over the famous among us. What's even more annoying? Hearing some lunkheaded actor or model or singer or athlete TALK about their fame! You know what I'm talking about. Folks whose interviews consist of, "Well, uh, I'm going to, like, clean up my act, uh, because, like, people look up to me" or "Yeah, I, uh, think we're, uh, gonna have to win more, er, games if we expect to, you know, get into the playoffs." REALLY?? Now why didn't I think of that?? Thanks, guys, for your fabulous insights! They really enhance my knowlege of your career!

In grade school, I had a really good friend named Ryan. Ryan is the son of one of the former Chicago Bulls players and now general manager of the Bulls. So in grade school, we were good friends, partly because I was one of the few people who treated him, well, normally as opposed to being all starstruck. He didn't like it when people went all starstruck just because his dad was (and still is) famous, and he was nice and modest about it. When I met his dad, I found him to be just as nice and down-to-earth as his kid was. He wasn't self-absorbed, and it seemed like he just wanted to be treated normally too. But that is the case with many celebrities. It's kind of a pain in the butt for them because it's hard to go places without being recognized (or going with bodyguards even). (And if you step out of the house to take out your garbage or grab a latte at Starbucks and you go without your makeup or signature clothes, you can bet that the tabloid magazines will have that featured the next day.) It's probably tough on the dating scene because even if you are famous, the question of whether your partner loves you for you or for your fame lingers (which is probably the reason for so many celebrities marrying other stars, because then the playing field is somewhat level). Many check into hotels under fake names.

So why is it that we idolize and want to be like the celebrities? It seems like they want to be more like us!

Who invited you?

If this is a private party,
What are you doing in this place?
You don't have an invitation
You don't have a reservation
And you didn't come as someone's date.

So who invited you along?
And who's watching out for you tonight?
We've got security guards at all the doors,
But you've managed to get in all right.

A chill came through the room when you entered.
And all eyes were on you as you passed,
I saw smiles and smirks and "hey, how you been?"'s
And I wanted to get away fast.

I'm pulling this black tie off of my eyes
You know I know the person you've been on the side.
It is far too late--my voice gives me away,
You've seen me; there's no time to hide.

Polite goodbyes take too long to make,
Gotta thank the host before I leave,
Head out of the party and step through the door,
Before your voice calls out, "Alex, it's me."

The Woes of an English Major

I normally consider myself to be a fairly calm and balanced person, but this made me want to rip out all of my hair and throw a dictionary through the windows of the English Building.

Apparantly our illustrious President has gotten into our English-language lexicon (or should I say dyslexicon?). For there, on the Merriam-Webster dictionary website (http://www.m-w.com/), the entry for the word "nuclear" says that it can be pronounced either "nu-clee-er," the correct way, OR (and THIS is what really pisses me off) "nu-kyu-ler" (the way our president mispronounces it).

Just because he is the president doesn't mean he's got control over our language. Since when has nucular been a word??

So this has got me thinking, as a good patriotic American, that if the word "nuclear" can be pronounced as nucular (and recorded as such in the dictionary, thanks to our president), then shouldn't the word "vernacular" have the alternate pronunciation of "vernaCLEAR" ? That would sound ridiculous! Almost almost almost as ridiculous (or ridicleas? why stop there?) as nucular!

We are living the age of the ridicleas nucular vernaclear. Or should I say the Bush dyslexicon?

The Family Values Tour

Okay, KoRn and Evanescence and the other nice people on that summer tour will have to forgive me for the title. I always find it funny that some of the darkest, creepiest, most morose and gloomy bands on earth always can be found on a tour named "Family Values," because they're the last thing anyone would think of when you think of family values.

But that got me thinking, what does family values mean, anyway? I recently had a conversation with a relative, and she was saying that this nation would not be in the state it was in if people "had more family values." I was pretty sure that my definition of it and hers were not the same thing, and her statement "Well, people need to be more God-fearing" only drove that difference home. Then I realized (as she elaborated onward) that that wish for "family values" meant the same thing a lot of the conservative right supports--"traditional" family (where the wife stays home and takes care of the kids and the husband is the breadwinner), an end to accessible abortion, prayer taught in schools, and absolutely no civil marriages/adoptions for the gay community.

I know she has a right to think what she wants to think, but I had to let her know that some of her reasons were wrong and that she left many more effective things out.
You want to talk family values?
I'd start by doing just that--valuing families. Raise the minimum wage. A family living on minimum wage cannot easily support itself, as they would be well below the poverty line. Maybe create accessible childcare at work. That way, not only would new jobs be created (by increasing the need for people to staff and maintain that childcare), but the parents wouldn't have to worry about their children when they're at work.
Another thing would be to improve the public school system. No, I don't mean call for prayer in public schools, but instead of give everyone a safe and clean and accessible environment. If kids are the future, then you need to treat them like a good future. It's disgusting to see how some public schools are clean and bright and have everything the students need and how others are dank and gross and generally unsavory places.
You want to talk about God-fearing?
Then start by living out your words. Why not start with getting rid of some of the evil you've helped create? Allowing millions of people to live on the streets without a home is evil. Not allowing a woman to have an abortion (a relatively safe procedure) when her life is in danger is evil (funny how that crowd never mentions protecting the life of the mother. Is her life less precious than the life of something that's still part of her?). Letting millions of people go hungry is evil. Fostering prejudice against any particular group (and then saying "that's the way things are" or "they're disrupting our way of life") is really evil. All of those are things that threaten the dignity of some families (and of life too).

So why doesn't the family values crowd talk about that or take steps or change all of that? The first place they can start is right here.

Sisterhood and Brotherhood are Powerful...Global...Forever

You can never truly know another person's sufferings.

But you can learn and support that person.

It totally boggles my mind to hear the number of people who think that feminism is no longer relevant. It boggles my mind even further to hear them say that males can't be feminists. At Quad Day, when I staffed the feminist booth, I heard several guys say that they couldn't join/sign up because they weren't women.

Apparantly, those guys don't know their history. The fact is, unless you identify as a separatist, the women's movement has always had its male supporters. Any kind of civil rights movement has had (and probably would not have gone as far without) its allies in different groups. From the beginnings of the first wave of feminism, with men attending the Seneca Falls convention, to the present day, there have always been men to support women's advancement. When I staffed my crisis center's fundraiser, a good third of the people in the marquee tent were men. And this fundraiser was enormously huge--the guests numbered in the thousands! My dad was the one who introduced me to women's liberation--way back in first grade. It is in no way "natural" or "intrinsic" for men to be sexist or put women down. Last time I checked, men are people and people do come with reasoning and ethics. And they are more than capable of noticing and pointing out when something isn't fair.

And that goes for just about any other kind of civil rights. The nation saw people of all races come out and show their support during the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s--it wasn't just limited to the black community. I've participated in the Day of Silence and other events that support LGBT rights because that's what I believe in. I'm heterosexual, but I've got the Day of Silence shirt and the rainbow ribbons. I have supported diversity initiatives and have never been fooled by people who use "tokenism" as a replacement for real and actual diversity.

As I am not part of many of the groups I support, I suppose I can never know exactly what they feel or have to go through. I realize that, and I'm not going to pretend to know everything.
But I can learn.
And with learning comes tolerance and support--exactly what the world needs to fight injustice. Sisterhood is certainly powerful, but having allies of all kinds is even more so.

Way to go, Ohio!

Yet another reason for me to love Over the Rhine, besides their excellent music, solid live shows, adorable tour shirts, and very genuinely nice manner when you meet them. (They're really nice and stay around to meet and talk to the fans).

Some musicians start their own clothing line. Some have insane fan clubs. Some star in their own movies.

But can you name another band that has its own line of COFFEE?

I didn't think so either!

(By the way, they really do have their own delectable line of coffees, the Over the Rhine blend, and it's almost as good as their songs. I did say almost.)

Emily Post, eat ya heart out!

Alex's Top Ten Commandments for Summer Concertgoing


10. Thou shalt not mosh. Seriously, whose brilliant idea was moshing? It's basically a mess of drunks trying to pass each other over each other's heads while hooting and hollering to all of their friends. When the sober person trapped in the moshpit decides not to pass the mosher and he falls, he screams and yells at the sober person. And then none of the moshers remember it the next day. The sober person does, and it has severely damaged his/her concertgoing experience.

9. Thou shalt remember thy deoderant. ENOUGH SAID!!!

8. Thou shalt not grab another concertgoer's butt when passing her. I've had that happen to me, and I am seriously thinking of getting a full-length porcupine dress with a train to wear to the next show. Let's see someone grab that! But seriously, I am not for you to grab! That is why my butt and other parts of me are on me! They're not yours.

7. Thou shalt not go all fangrl/fanboy on an artist that thou dost not know all that well. I'm warnething you! You might as well go bury your head in the sand along with the 98 degrees fans and Y2K alarmists because nothing looks sillier.

6. Thou shalt not wear a dress over thine pants. Look, if dresses were meant to be worn with pants they would be called shirts. And I think there is already something called a shirt.

5. Thou shalt not wear girl's clothes if thou canst not fit into said girl's clothes. Muffintops are never attractive on ANYONE.

4. If thou art staffing the merch table, thou shalt not charge in excess of $25 for a tour shirt. (I don't want to name names, but a little snooping around the merch tables and seeing their prices should make your toes curl.)

3. Thou shalt know at least the hits of the artist/band that thou art seeing.

2. Thou shalt use protection and practice safe sound if thou art seeing a really loud band. To minimize any ringing in the ears, I recomment "foamy" disposable earplugs. Better safe than sorry! And cotton balls just won't do the trick. They don't work.

1. Thou shalt not get so smashed or stoned that thou canst not remember the show the next day. Look, if you're making the voyage and paying to get in, you'll want to remember the experience!

That is all. Alex has spoken.
"A grl can do what she wants to do, and that's all I'm gonna do. So I don't give a damn about my bad reputation. Oh no! Not me!"

Tales from the Tent

One of the highlights of the summer so far was the summer Women Helping Women social/fundraiser for the local women's shelter. And I, being one of their social committee members, got to help with it! I did everything they needed me for--prepping up the silent auctions, running water to the guest speakers, wrapping up the prizes from the auction (including a fabulous Revel set of jewelry made by my own fair hands) and helping the guests take them to their cars, and disassembling the enormous tent they had rented. It was a good time, and the LaCASA staff really appreciated my efforts. They had gone ALL OUT for the event (trio of musicians including a harp player, fans in the tent, CICADA netting although those bugs haven't come this far north yet, and some uberfancy decorations), and it really paid off. We met capacity for the tent--700 guests and 40-some staffers running in and out to help them. What was especially surprising was the number of men there. I would say that among the 700 guests there were between 200 and 300 men. I was most impressed by the number of men because I feel it's an issue that they should get more involved in. They seemed as though they wanted to be there and help out the cause of aiding domestic violence survivors. The guests were pretty diverse--teens, adults, politicians, a minister, the owners of several local businesses, teachers, and even a local rock band named Avigilante to name a few.



I had arrived when the speakers began. Our speakers were a singer (and incest survivor) and the prosecutor for sex crimes in Queens, NY. The singer was first. She did a terrific acoustic song with an upbeat instrumentation, but some chilling lyrics about her experience. When she began to speak about her father's physical and emotional abuse of her, most of the audience was tearing up. It was heartrending--not just what he did to her but also how few people believed that harrowing story. The prosecutor was intense. She told her stories about the disbelief people have shown towards the survivors, and many people in the audience were crying by this time. It was heartbreaking to say the least, but it was also a good sign that the people cared.

My shift went until the end, so I stayed on to help the guests and dismantle the marquis tent when they had left (yep, I got to dismantle that huge tent in a dress! Yeah!). But seeing the crowds that showed up--all for the same cause--was so inspiring. They were all there because they cared about preventing and helping the survivors of sexual assault. They were there because they wanted to make a difference in their own way (several are now volunteering or working at LaCASA). It was an amazing sight and experience to behold.

I wish I could show this sight to anyone who thinks domestic violence is just the survivor's issue. The throngs of guests from our community and from other towns (not to mention the big staff) show that it is anything but! They really made me aware of the power of everyone's efforts.

Pieces of me

All right, I REALLY can't stand the song I used to title this entry, but it was fitting for today. Well, today I've been feeling incredibly good about myself. I just donated a foot of quality Alex-hair to Locks of Love. My stylist just made a footlong ponytail and then practically SAWED it off with a scissors and then styled it to make it presentable. I must say, this is the shortest I've had my hair (aside from when I was a baby) for as long as I can remember. It's actually kind of cute--it's like a shorter page-cut, and it curls up underneath. Didn't know that would happen, but I like the results and think I will get it again this way. Either that or I'll grow it long again to donate another foot of it. It's so much more manageable than the mane was and it doesn't even mess when I headbang! It's kind of funny--I normally don't consider myself to be self-absorbed, but I've been playing with the hair at its new length and flipping it around (and when I got home, I just wanted to show it off!).

I'm not trying to sound self-righteous, but I swear, you've got bits and pieces of Alex going everywhere! I give my blood every three months (although I can't do it until September because of my recent piercing), I've given plasma at the plasma drive, and I've got the organ donor on my drivers license. And now the hair. Guess if I can't be of use to people, then pieces of me should be!

Fake your way to the top!

I am viewing my collection of CDs and DVDs and am struck by a revelation.

Why is it that the movies that feature fake bands almost always have better music than most real bands out there? I have the soundtracks and/or the DVDs for these movies:
The Blues Brothers
This is Spinal Tap (don't know how to do the umlaut thingy over the "n")
Josie and the Pussycats
Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains
O Brother, Where Art Thou?
Dreamgirls
Almost Famous
Edgeplay (well, technically, the band was prefabricated but the grls did have talent--OK, I'm stopping there before I launch into the history of the Runaways)

I swear, all of these soundtracks are on my "most played" list on my computer, and I've probably worn out the DVDs for most of them! Most of the stuff on the soundtracks is pretty basic. Everyone knows "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" from Dreamgirls because it's a standard, and "Cherry Bomb" (from Edgeplay) is a cult classic. And even I (out of practice and all!) could probably best Rachael Leigh Cook in an axe-off, since the riffs are pretty much all three chords. But seriously, it's still some catchy stuff out there and to me, a lot more fun and catchy than most of the stuff on the radio. Now if only some of these bands (with the exception of the Runaways, which came, sang, and conquered the Japanese market before dissolving) were real ones.

A grl can dream, right?

Where it all began

Let's go back in time to the nineties...where it all began! This is the story of how Alex became a feminist! I have been a feminist since the age of six. I know you're probably thinking "Are you kidding me?," but it is true. When I was in first grade, one of my classmates brought in a Susan Anthony coin for Show And Tell. I didn't even know who she was! When my dad came to pick me up in his blue Ford Escort, I was really excited to tell him that my schoolmate had showed us "a coin with a girl on it!" On the drive home (remember, we lived around twenty-thirty minutes north of the school), he told me all about who Susan Anthony was and about the fight for the right for women to vote. I didn't know what surprised me more--that there was once a time when they couldn't vote or that she got jailed for trying to! Whenever it was Election day, my parents would always tell me how important it was that everyone should vote, and they'd give me their little "I Voted Today" stickers. I was really surprised but completely intrigued by the story.

So I found out all that I could about the feminism. My tiny school library had those illustrated biographies of historical figures and I remember having as a kid this collection of biographies called the ValueTales (which told the story of a historical figure and a certain aspect of their life, often through the eyes of a historically-inaccurate anthropomorphic animal sidekick). I read and read. I was a total anomaly. In my hyperconservative WASPy grade school, I was one of the only liberals (not to mention non-WASPs). In fourth grade, I read more stuff about first-wave feminism and the suffrage movement. In sixth and seventh, I learned all about the ERA and second wave. I kept going. You couldn't stop me. Not that anyone tried.

...And here I am now....
See what a little lesson on a car ride home fifteen years ago can do?

My tale is a great story and one worth telling. And I have no problem with telling it. What's amusing to me is that it always really surprises or impresses people to know that it was a man who taught me about feminism. And actually, the dad is the one to identify himself with it--much more than any of my relatives. I'm serious!

And it's just one of these days...

Some times I just wish I had someone, anyone here when the flashback occurs. I don't care who, I don't care what they are or what they do, but just someone there to listen to me and let me know that they're there.

And then there are other times when I just don't want to be around anyone because I really fear that they'll see me in a moment of weakness, and I try my hardest not to be weak. I know I am an advocate and that I work at two crisis centers, both of which have the slogan "Asking for help is a sign of strength." But sometimes I just want to handle absolutely everything on my own and not drag other people into it or appear that there's something I just can't take.

Oil to the World

I was watching a news report, and it really made me aware of the huge power the oil industry has over this whole world.

The US Government decides that it should invade Iraq, saying that the people need to be "liberated" and that they need our help. In reality, we've only managed to protect the oil fields and not the people or any semblance of order.

In the Sudan, there is a real and actual genocide (this is a real crisis--one that's been ongoing for far too long) going on, and no one steps in or does much of anything. Why hasn't anyone stepped in? The Darfur region is full of (you guessed it) oil that much of the world needs.

Oil's well that ends well, I guess.

Who says you can't go home?

With summer starting within a couple of days, I figured it was appropriate to make note of something I've been feeling pretty strongly these past couple of weeks. It seems like the places that are the most like home to me are the places I've sought out myself and/or created for myself. I don't mean to diss my family. My family is lovely, and I am certainly looking forward to seeing them. ALL of them!
But it seems as though I've felt the most welcome and been the most accepted in places where they know me and me alone/first. I haven't been very good at keeping in touch with high school friends. Many of us have kind of grown apart, or I've been the only one keeping the friendship alive. The place where I'm working is incredibly cliquish. I'm not trying to whine or be bitchy, but it really annoys me when it seems as though I'm making all of the effort to reach out and be friendly and no one reciprocates. I know I'm not shy anymore, and I do my best to remember important things about people. The weird thing is, when I'm back up north, I feel as though I'm just putting on a performance for people. It just feels kind of wrong...shouldn't your home be the first place where you feel like...well...you? I can't discuss many of my activities around certain relatives or high/grade school friends and certainly not around coworkers. If I told some of my coworkers that I was the Feminist Majority co-president for next year or that I participated in the Day of Silence, you can bet that they'd go out of their way to avoid me. If I told some extended relatives (not immediate ones...more like the ones you don't see as often) or high/school friends about the Ayyam-i-hah party I went to in February, they'd look at me like I was speaking Latin or something (although, technically the word "Ayyam-i-hah" is Farsi, not Latin). Even my own parents have asked me to tone down what I talk about, like my advocacy work or declaring. Topics like those are outside of the mainstream and outside of people's comfort zones, I guess.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

I just think that my experience in college has completely made up for all of that. Here, people know me for me. Not because they know my parents and by default know me because I'm their kid. Not just because I've lived there 10+ years. Not just because I obligatorily have to go there. People like me because they want to, not because they have to. I know that I'm not the most "ideal" friend--I can be a pretty polarizing and opinionated individual, and I can be a total bitch when I want to be (hell, I used that in one of my campaign speeches! I said, "I can totally bitch at people to make them vote. I'm a real live bitch!" when I ran for outreach director. I lost, but I did make 'em laugh!). But the communities I've either enjoyed being a part of or formed have all accepted me for me. Not for anything else. None of my professors know the rest of my family. They like my work because I do my best and it shows. They respect me because I put in a lot of hard work and talk my head off in discussion section (it's not unusual for a professor to tell me to let someone else talk for a change!). When I started attending devotions, I didn't know anyone there when I went the first time. But the people in the ECI cluster like me because we've taken the time to get to know each other. I didn't become friendly with them because they knew one of my relatives or lived near me, and they're just as nice to me as a declarant as they were to me as a seeker. Every club that I've joined is accepting of me because they know me and they know my work. I felt more like myself among my monologists (and that WAS a REAL performance!). At the Spring Social in April, I had a blast going around the teamster hall and introducing myself to all the other activists and talking with them. (And I didn't know anyone outside the planning committee! By the end, I had met all these cool new activisty people, and they gave me great suggestions for getting my word out!)

They say that home is what you make of it. I say it's what you make for yourself. I've found so much more respect and acceptance when I've been the one initiating it or making the opportunities for myself. While I am certainly looking forward to vacation and my lovely family and of course the fabulous concerts, I also am looking forward to the next school year.

Keep on rockin' in the free world

I've been checking my concert-venue sites recently.

I don't believe in an afterlife of any kind, but by late September, I think there's potential for me to be convinced that there is a heaven.

Why?
SO MANY CONCERTS! Summerfest, Harbor Fest, local shows, shows in the city, Pygmalion music festival...
So when you see me in late September I will be nearly deaf, have used up more body glitter than the entire pantheon of glam rock bands, completely broke because I used up my savings to buy CDs and merch, singing all the songs I heard at the shows, and flashing the "rock on" symbol.
And I'll be loving every minute of it!

Just a question, nothing more

If May is Asian history month, and September is Latino/a history month, and November is Native American history month, and February is Black history month, and March is women's history month, what happens during the rest of the year?

I'm not saying I disagree with designating the months. I love (with a capital L-O-V-E) all the cultural events my campus puts on for each of these months because I like to learn all about history and culture. Goodness knows I go to a hell of a lot of them.

The thing is, why do we need a specific month to turn our thoughts to diversity and tolerance?
Why can't it be the whole year?

A woman's place is...Anywhere she wants to be!

The above quote is a pearl of wisdom from one of my professors, and it will do very well for the title and topic.

My horrendously huge history paper was turned in today.

I finished it two days in advance.

I actually enjoyed poring over two decades of Look magazine to analyze representations of women in advertising. My teacher told me that if I could stand researching that thing and scrutinizing it to death, it would make a very good dissertation project. Seriously, I liked it. It was like a treasure hunt to find and scrutinize the ads in a way only the most militantly radical-feministy GWS students can do...

In sixteen pages (not counting works cited) of pure feministy goodness that is guaranteed to satisfy.

Is there something wrong with me?

I actually enjoyed said paper!

You have got to be kidding me.

So I was out on the Quad today. I spend a hell of a lot of time on that Quad. Being in the glorious college of LAS, I have most of my classes there. Today was a really special day because the Art In Public Places class had their pretty statues displayed out there, and I decided I would take pictures of them. I do that every time they're out. So I was out snapping pictures and looking like a tourist (only a very stylish tourist, not some Sloppy American Tourist (or my nickname for 'em, the SATs)). Then I ran across these kids who were doing some kind of a promotion for Wrigley gum. They were handing out bags with gum and school supplies on them. Now being a poor cheap student, I like free stuff, so I grabbed one of those bags.

I went through my goodies when I came back to my room. Not a bad load--a pen, two packs of gum, a notebook, and a free downloads music gift card. THEN I saw it. The message.
Printed on an index card-size paper were the words:

Wrigley's is the Official Sponsor of Finals Week. Have a nice Finals Week.

Are you kidding me?? I couldn't believe that either. I had thought companies wanted to sponsor something good, something people liked. I mean, what part of their marketing director's useless brain thought that finals were good and "nice" and something people enjoyed? Seriously! Who in their right mind would want their product affiliated with something that caused so much pain and suffering? If they really wanted to put something meaningful on their promo, wouldn't it make more sense to have study tips or something slightly hopeful message like, "The Nightmare's Almost Over" ? Does anything about being holed up in your room or the library poring over text after text and trying your hardest to stay awake AND remember everything sound a bit "nice" or like fun?

I am guessing that either their marketing director is a recent college student and is trying to prove that she can make it in the big bad corporate world. Or it is an old fart with absolutely no memory of college life or finals week, and she just doesn't remember that during finals, colleges are just crawling with overstressed desperados in sweatpants. Or perhaps it is one of my worst fears. An English major with a terribly evil sense of symbolism. The gum is a symbol for the student. Like the gum, the student gets chewed up and spit out on the sidewalk or trash or wrapper--by their exams!

Have a nice finals week.

Reflections of the past year

Ten Things I've Learned in a Year's Time

10. Never before has my independence and involvement been so important. I live my own life, and I'm defined by what I do, not by who I spend my time with.
9. But even the most independent sometimes need a little help every now and then--and that's okay.
8. I can only accept credit and blame for what I do, not for what others do.
7. Direct action is the best solution. Ignoring a problem will not make it go away, and some people just won't get the message through anything other than direct and straightforward words. I've been an active activist for four years now, but it's only now that I've realized the importance of this.
6. Patience might be a value I should take some time to acquire. While direct action is important, sometimes results will take a while. But they are worth it. I know I need more time to fully recover, but I have come a long way.
5. Words only become true when I completely believe them.
4. I don't have all the answers, and I can't take responsibility for everything.
3. I can find ways to alleviate my own problems by helping others.
2. It is completely possible to learn to trust and love all over again.
1. I am not to blame.

April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month

The thing is, I don't think we need a MONTH to be aware about sexual assault. We need to be aware the whole year!
I saw this on a feminist website called "The F-Word" and figured it was important, so important that I put it here for you all to see.

ONLY RAPISTS CAN PREVENT RAPE

A lot has been said about how to prevent rape. Women should learn self-defense. Women should lock themselves in their houses after dark. Women shouldn’t have long hair and women shouldn’t wear short skirts. Women should always walk with someone else at night. Women shouldn't try to be too "feminine," as that can be construed as an invitation. Women shouldn’t leave drinks unattended. Hell, they shouldn’t dare to get drunk at all. Instead of that bullshit, how about:

If a woman is drunk, don’t rape her.
If a woman is walking alone at night, don’t rape her.
If a woman is drugged and unconscious, don’t rape her.
If a woman is wearing a short skirt, don’t rape her.
If a woman is jogging in a park at 5 am, don’t rape her.
If a woman looks like your ex-girlfriend you’re still hung up on her, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in her bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is asleep in your bed, don’t rape her.
If a woman is doing her laundry, don’t rape her.
If a woman is in a coma, don’t rape her.
If a woman changes her mind in the middle of or about sex, don’t rape her.
If a woman has repeatedly refused sex, don’t rape her.
If a woman is not yet a woman, but a child, don’t rape her.
If your girlfriend or wife is not in the mood, don’t rape her.
If your step-daughter is watching TV, don’t rape her.
If you break into a house and find a woman there, don’t rape her.
If your friend thinks it’s okay to rape someone, tell him it’s not, and that he’s not your friend.
If your “friend” tells you he raped someone, report him to the police.
If your frat-brother or another guy at the party tells you there’s an unconscious woman upstairs and it’s your turn, don’t rape her, call the police and tell the guy he’s a rapist.
Tell your sons, god-sons, nephews, grandsons, sons of friends it’s not okay to rape someone.
Don’t tell your women friends how to be safe and avoid rape.
Don’t imply that she could have avoided it if she’d only done/not done x.
Don’t imply that it’s in any way her fault.
Don’t let silence imply agreement when someone tells you he “got some” with the drunk girl.
Don’t perpetuate a culture that tells you that you have no control over or responsibility for your actions. You can, too, help yourself.

If I knew who wrote this, I'd be best friends with them. A grl can have many best friends. This sums up exactly what I wanted to say. It is never okay. You cannot blame it on the survivor, as no one asks to be victimized. You cannot blame it on society, as most men do not rape and have no desire to do so. You would not blame the survivors of a terrorist act for what happened to them, nor would you say they were just in the wrong place or the wrong time, or that they just provoked it. Hell no! Then why would you blame the survivor of sexual assault or harassment? It's never okay. It's not man-bashing for me to say this; it's just the honest plain old defiant truth.

In observance of the Day of Silence

I am observing the day of silence for the first time. All I have to say is this:

WOW

I haven't talked since the time I got up. It goes from 9 to 5, and I have about an hour left. I have not talked at all, and when people have talked to me, I show them my response cards that explain the day and what it's all about. Most of them have been nice about it. There's a lot of participation. The standard dress code for the day of silence is to dress completely in black except for a rainbow ribbon. So I am wearing all black, even down to my makeup and jewelry (only no black lipstick, that stuff dries up my lips fast). Whenever I see another individual observing the day, I open up my jacket, show them my ribbon, and we exchange a smile or nod. That doesn't sound like much, but it really is profound to see all of the people I am allied with.

It feels like a fast of sorts. I have never starvation-dieted or fasted much for a religious occaision, so I don't have much experience with that. But I think fasting from food would be easier. I love to talk and my mouth moves faster than my mind sometimes. Instead of talking, I was able to reflect and think about the issues that I am protesting. I was able to think deeply about the issues that the day of silence stands for. The reflecting made me realize this. I will never completely know what it is like to be part of the LGBT community, since I am none of the four mentioned. But I think that it's important to learn all I can about it (most importantly by talking to the people one-on-one) and not be judgmental. I think that being part of a "dominant" culture, I have a responsibility to help others who may not have their voices heard as easily as I do. It's not being condescending, it's using what I've got to help. There's a lot that is taken for granted. I can't just use that to my advantage--I have to use that for everyone's advantage. The day of silence is one such way.

I love politics!

I am an election judge for the city council election.

Now that I am a judge, you must refer to me as "Your Honor."

He he he...;)

I love being involved in my community.

I have to admit, it's getting better, a little better all the time

That title is from one of my favorite Beatles songs, and I think it best sums up my life now. It has been almost a year since the traumatic event occurred, and although I still have far to go before I am completely healed and whole, I think I'm doing a hell of a lot better than I was before.

The most important thing is that I've completely lost my sense of shame regarding it. Before, I was scared that people would hear about the event and judge me, even though I know I had nothing to do with it and I had no way of seeing it coming. You know, the whole blame-the-victim/survivor issue. I didn't want people to judge me. My sense of shame was impacting the way I lived my life. I feared that I was physically contaminated, and I wore clothes that covered every inch of my body to hide the slime and scars that only I could see. The exfoliant pump was my best friend. There was really no slime and scarring, but that's what I saw whenever I looked in the mirror, someone who was covered in someone else's contamination. It was awful. Nothing I could do would ever clean the slime or make it go away. I feared being a danger to others. But worst of all, I blamed myself. I thought that I should have seen it coming, and I created a fortress around my heart and mind. I didn't expresss emotion. Showing emotion is a sign of weakness, and I am not weak in any sense of the word. No one knew exactly what was bothering me because I wouldn't tell them. I was disgusting to myself--contaminated and low and ugly and dirty.

I don't think that anymore. I am out of fear. I am through with feeling ashamed of something that I couldn't control. I have reclaimed my life--and it doesn't include a sense of shame. I don't have any room in my life for that. I know I am not dirty or contaminated. While I do need some more time before I'm completely healed, I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel, and the tunnel is beginning to look a little more manageable. My life doesn't include shame. It is too short to include being ashamed. I can only take responsibility for what I have done or will do. I can't control what happened to me in the past or its aftershocks, but I can control my responses and the healing process. The process isn't complete yet, but it's beginning to look more manageable.

The thing is, I don't think I'm a survivor. Survivor implies that I just lived through it and was able to rebuild my life. While those are admirable qualities, I think the correct term for me is a fighter. You are probably wondering, "But you're a pacifist--how can you be calling yourself a fighter?" Good question. I am a pacifist, that's not going to change. A fighter implies that I have not only survived but have emerged stronger. I am even more vocal AND active in helping others who have been through events like this. I am now even more active in my feministic and crisis-related services, such as my working with the therapeutic art and the crisis hotline. I want to help others, and I have become even stronger and bolder. I have become more comfortable in telling my story to others because most people won't be judgmental and because it's important for them to know. I've gotten some really nice responses too, which made me wonder why I didn't tell them before. The rumor mill is of no concern to me anymore. I'm a fighter. I have always been able to adapt and succeed. I'll come out of this stronger and better than I have ever been before, and I'll try to help others do the same.

Desensitivity training

So I volunteered to help the crisis center with their gallery of therapeutic artwork for the arts festival. I have been attending training sessions to view some of it ahead of time, since I will need to be able to speak about the content and the artists. I can't volunteer at the festival if I can't discuss the art and exactly what it represents. That includes "desensitizing" myself to some of the more extreme accounts, which they say is important for a volunteer to do. I can't be emotionally drained by something people are going to expect me to discuss. Most of the art is by survivors, but some is done in honor of them. My friends of the Sigma Lambda Gamma sorority put on an excellent event to make their own exhibit to put in the display. We got these plaster theatrical masks and painted them to portray the problem of "masking" violence and pretending it doesn't exist. We have nearly a hundred masks that will go on display. They're really moving to see because "masking" violence is a huge problem. Most of the time, people just act like it doesn't happen or that it only happens to someone else.

Unfortunately, we're all someone else to someone else. The horrors of abuse aren't just confined to one group or one region or one person.

Art therapy is clearly one of the greatest things EVER created, as it allows survivors of psychological trauma to channel their pain and frustrations and anger into something beautiful and intense. I don't know how long it's been around, but it is seriously something amazing. And art is an excellent way to get the message across. Do you like the movies and novels Sin City and V for Vendetta? Credit it to art therapy. The former was actually the author's way of coping with an anxiety problem. At the gallery, we have art by survivors of domestic violence, hate crimes, and rape (although if you see one of my earlier posts, I'd classify rape and domestic violence AS hate crimes). They make some of the most intense art I have ever seen. We made a Clothesline project to display on the quad, which features survivor stories written on actual clothes. It's a way of airing out the "dirty laundry" of the ugly side of life. That stuff has made several viewers really angry, since it can be pretty extreme and explicit. But it's also drawn a lot of positive attention from people who may not have known about that problem or have experienced it.

The art is pretty awesome. It is exactly what that word means--awe-inspiring. It's heartbreaking and hopeful and deep and enraged and [insert your favorite adjective here]. Some of the survivors have painted, some have made sculptures, two featured have made full-length graphic novels. (I've read one named Just the Beginning: And So My Troubles Began which is one of the most saddening stories ever written. The only copy is owned by the crisis center, and they showcase it at every informational session/booth they have. My friend who works there says that ever since it was completed, they've gotten twenty people offering to buy it, even though it is not for sale.) When you think of how much these people have gone through and then how many have been able to rebuild and repair their lives, it's hopeful. That's one of the most inspiring things I have ever witnessed, the rebuilding of lives and strength and trust.

Calling all psychologists!

Well, several of my psych and community health major buddies have brought up that they all want to use me as an example of their latest psychological discovery. The newest complex is...(big fat drumroll here)...THE SUPERHERO COMPLEX!!!

Typical symptoms include but are certainly not limited to: Always being involved in a million different grassroots causes and being the queen and tyrant and dictator of scheduling, Trying to help out all of your friends even if it includes some very emotionally deteriorating steps to be taken, Running for more than one extracurricular leadership position, Volunteering to help people you've never even met, and basically just thinking you can save the world while you lose sight of everything else.

Side effects involve but are also certainly not limited to: Huge lack of sleep, Consumption of massive amounts of coffee (best if you're the type who can handle the strongest types of coffee), Appearring to be everywhere at once, Idealistic attitude and complete dejection when things don't go the way you've planned them, Ability to debate anyone at anytime about your causes, The ever-present question of "How do you do all of that???!!!" and super-amazing time management skills.

If you know this person, it's most likely that she's just finished typing this post.

The cure: There is no cure and there never will be.