Strbellysneetch’s Weblog

I probably had it correct with just not watching popular news and obtaining it through my own means (qualiy news, that is). Oh well. I had a good run. I just have to start it over is all.

It sort of started with a boo-hoo story about how "girls" are more likely to get into college because…they do better:

By the time college admissions come into the picture, many watchers of the "boy gap" agree, it’s too late for the lads to catch up on their own. Indeed, beginning in those formative K-12 years, girls watch less television, spend less time playing sports, and are far less likely to find themselves in detention. They are more likely to participate in drama, art, and music classes—extracurriculars that are catnip for admissions officers.

U.S. News reports that some colleges are now failing to admit appropriate women in lieu of admitting men in order to avoid a gender gap. Now…wait just a minute here. If memory serves there are European American men out there that at some point have felt that equal opportunity did them wrong. Interesting, how the tables turn, isn’t it?

It didn’t take long though, to take a dramatic turn into dog info. Not that I don’t love dogs (I mean, really…I have a zoo of them in my home). But are general statistics on dogs what should really be important in the evening news? Can people not find this stuff out on their own? As a matter of fact, can people not figure it out on their own for that matter? They felt it was important to tell whoever was watching this evening that labradors are the most popular dog according to the American Kennel Club. No shit. Again, not that I don’t seriously heart dogs…but aren’t there more relevant things people should know when they blithely tune into and space out on the news? News flash…they’re also one of the breeds with the highest incidents of biting humans; only because they’re so popular. That’s statistics. That’s not really newsworthy.

NBC News deemed it really important to add a piece on how to correctly pronounce "Nevada" so as not to offend the locals. Really? They’re responsible for the armpit that is Reno…but we should be primarily concerned on a Wednesday evening with how to pronounce the state name?

In conclusion, there was also a story done on abuse of power by an on duty officer. This was disappointing, not because it was reported on the news, but because it is just indicative of the question…as humans are we really capable in general of dealing with any type of power without abusing it? I realize of course that not all of those indowed with power abuse it…but for case and point, check out the Stanford Mock Prison study.

The news as displayed on popular channels is seriously disappointing in so many ways. It is precisely why that is not my main source of what is going on in the world.   

But in a really good way.

Let me just start by saying that I now love this website. Heartless bitches is right-about ten times over.

I’ll continue by pointing out a quote on that page that says:

I do get called a bitch quite often. What I do NOT get called is pushover, stupid, sweetheart, dear or doormat. Works for me. Rebecca M.

I’ll end by pointing out this link which is a statement by a man discussing what mysogyny really is in every day situations.

Once I figured this out, many things about misogyny became clear. A misogynistic value system would favor women who put out and are easy to control. Misogynists would talk about women in a dehumanized way, i.e., nice legs, great ass, etc, as if women were nothing more than a collection of body parts. Dating and relationships would become a game of manipulation fraught with various seedy techniques and ploys designed to get women to have sex. Something else I noticed as I browsed the web is that although misogynists try to control women, they are ironically dependent on women for validation in front of other men and society. This dependence is disempowering and only adds to the anger and resentment misogynists feel towards women.

Thank you. Thank you, and thank you.

I was not myself today, at all. I wasn’t even a distant cousin of myself. I don’t even think I was on this earth although I’m still confused as to where I might have been.

Today was the first day of taking the bus-it is a bus that starts as one numbered route, but for no reason that I can fathom, turns into an entirely different one halfway to my destination. I was decidedly nervous, considering previous bus escapades, that the website might have been lying to me when it assured me that I would arrive at work by 7:21 if I trusted that particular bus. I didn’t trust it. Problem was, I momentarily forgot where I was going. It went a little like this:

ME: This goes to Utah avenue right? (What?)

BUS GUY (with an appropriately puzzled look): What?

ME: (Why the hell can’t I remember the street that I’m on?) I mean 4th street. (What the hell am I saying?)

BUS GUY (who couldn’t even continue to look at me by that point): You mean 1st?

ME (appropriately chagrined): Yeah.

I immediately sat down and didn’t move the entire way to work…I was convinced, and no one could tell me differently, that the entire bus had heard what could have only sounded like the ramblings of someone who had possibly dropped a little acid prior to jaunting off to work. Humiliating. Worse yet, I have to face the same bus driver tomorrow morning as well.

Later on in my evening (I eventually got over the embarrassment) over dinner the subject of street justice came up in a conversation with a friend. After sharing with me a story of how someone had once burned her financially, I immediately chimed in with what would have been my solution to the problem; to introduce a little street justice to the problem. She thought this was hilarious (I wonder if it was simply the mental image of me in particular trying to serve street justice on anyone…I’m deciding not to spend too much energy on trying to figure that out though). I take it very seriously though. And the following people would be on my street justice list:

• Anyone who thinks it is acceptable to single a woman out by asking in a job interview if they have children or are married.
• Anyone who hurts me to my very core but never bothers to at least attempt to make amends for the behavior.
• Liars.
• Loud gum chewers.
• The dolts at BBC that think this is acceptable.
• Assholes that aren’t satisfied with ruining every other day of the year but have to ruin holidays too.

I’m sure I could come up with pages more but I’ve tired myself out by being someone and somewhere else all day.

There was a moment on Sunday night during the ridiculous fiasco, that I hid. No one else even had to be in the apt. to cause that to happen. The possibility was enough.

I walked into the back room of my apt., sat on the floor, huddled up in a corner and cried. I intentionally chose not to go in the bathroom even though it was the farthest I could have gotten from the pounding on the door because once in the bathroom there is no way out if someone gets in. At the time though, it wasn’t an actual conscious thought; it was instinctual. In that kind of a panicked moment thoughts run all together and it’s difficult to sort them out until later when everything is calm again, it went a little like this: don’tmovedon’ttalkdon’tyell. don’t breathe. whatishedoingwiththedoor…doesheknowhowtopickalock? whycan’tiremember? don’tmovedon’tbreathe and maybe it will all just stop.. whatificallthecopsandhe’sgonebythetimetheygehere. whatifidon’tcallthemandhebreaksinandsomethingbad happens? And surprisingly some it is unselfish. Do I really want to force that kind of trouble on someone because they’re drunk and acting out or do I want to just let them realize it on their own as a result of the consequences between us and fix it for themselves?

It was only at that moment that I remembered a promise I had made to myself five years ago. That never again in my life would I be the one responsible for putting myself in a situation like that again. Never. Not even once. But there I was in that situation again, on my knees in my own house because of what someone I knew was doing. I made that promise after I had made peace with myself when it came to another relationship by drilling it into my head that nothing I did meant that I deserved that. It sounds really simple to figure out but after a couple of years of it, it becomes all mixed up and muddled and it’s not so easy to tell yourself that. Habitual violence and fear can really do a number on your mind. I also made that promise after taking responsibility for continuing to go back to something that was awful.

It was also in this moment I realized that I couldn’t just go back to a present situation pretending like things would be okay or that things would be normal, not if I wanted to retain any type of self respect or well-being at all. The first time something like that happens now I am capable of giving chances for someone else to modify and resolve behavior like that. Even a second or third time where arguments get a little out of hand I can still be somewhat reasonable and differentiate between now and five years ago. There comes a point when it becomes unreasonable (for lack of a better word), and I can recognize that as well.

One of the things I value above all else in relationships with others is the ability to feel safe with them; emotionally and physically. When I realize that I feel safer with a male friend during a 15 or so minute friendly interaction and a short drive than I do with someone that is supposed to be a love relationship, there is something really wrong. With my history I can’t ignore that. I cannot be in a situation where in a state of vertigo I get confused about who I am dealing with…someone now, or someone five years ago? Something is wrong when that happens…and that something wrong is not my issue to resolve when I am not causing it.

I will not live on my knees for anyone, ever again. And the only person that really has to understand that is me…because there seems to be a limited amount of people that do. Prime example? When I tell my mother about recent events her response to me is that it feels bad to get used to our partners and get to know them for a few years only to have them end up leaving in the end…cause can’t I just deal with the fact that no man is perfect? Of course, the natural response to that kind of statement from someone is how the fuck do you think I feel about it? But it is my mother and I know where it comes from so I say nothing. I don’t remind her that she was once there too because it would hurt her to bring it up…nor do I ask her if when she was there in that violent place she ever asked herself why she couldn’t just deal with the fact that my dad wasn’t "perfect". That would hurt her as well. I could have told her that what I was looking for was certainly not a perfect man…I’m not naive and I realize that no one is perfect…but it’s a useless argument.

It’s enough that I get it.