Week 1, Book 1

I just finished the first book of my 52 in 52 adventure and I am still crying as I type this. I can't really remember a time that a book has evoked such emotion in me. I flew through the pages in a matter of 2 days. I couldn't put it down. The book I am speaking of is If I Am Missing or Dead by a local author named Janine Latus.

I was a little apprehensive about starting off with such heavy reading...and by "heavy" I mean content not quantity of pages. Also, I thought starting with non-fiction might be a little boring to start off the new year. I'm not typically a non-fiction reader unless it's a biography about drug addicted rock and rollers or bisexual poets. However, an article I read in a local newspaper piqued my curiosity enough to check it out from work.

At first, it's not what I expect. The article in the paper convinces me it's a biography about Amy Latus (the author's sister) who was murdered by her live-in boyfriend. I am expecting to read about her life, the abuse, the murder. I don't. Instead, I read about the author's life. She is eloquent, honest, and overall a very good writer. My interest is held as she recounts stories of her own childhood. She has a father who holds her a little too close and insists on kissing her on the mouth. She struggles with her own budding sexuality and new found ability to make men notice. But she also struggles when men take advantage of this sexuality and take it without her consent- repeatedly. Soon she is an adult who has learned to associate sex with love. He has sex with me so he must love me, she says...I know it is the sex that keeps me safe.

Eventually, she musters up the courage to leave her physically abusive boyfriend only to marry her emotionally abusive husband. He convinces her to get breast implants and to wear short skirts and stiletto heals when she's much rather wear jeans and a t-shirt. If she refuses to dress like a whore he takes it as rejection and tells her she can't do anything right. So she concedes. She concedes to let strangers peek at her underwear. Concedes to let all the other PTA mothers look away in shock. Concedes to make out or fuck anywhere and at any time of day. All these concessions made for love. If she is good and quiet and doesn't disagree she will be loved.

I read all this in fascination and wonder why anyone would stay. That's not love, I think. I don't know what it is, but it's not love.

As the story of her life progresses she drops in conversations with her sister Amy. Amy has met a man on the internet. He loves her and they are moving in together. The sisters correspond and share stories of the man in their life. Janine says she walks on eggshells in hopes that her husband will stay calm and won't blow up at her. Amy says her new man has a previous criminal record and is arrested again for DUI. Amy asks Janine, "Why do you stay?"
The answer is, "because he loves me."
Janine asks Amy the same...and the answer is the same.

Unfortunately, this is the case for many battered women...or really for anyone in a bad or abusive relationship. You convince yourself that your situation isn't so bad. You convince yourself that this is what love is like. However, you can't understand why your neighbor down the street doesn't leave her husband or why your friend won't leave his cheating wife. For some it's easier said than done.

There is always someone who is willing to help, but you just can't see it. Janine and Amy don't see it. It is too late. Ron Ball murders Amy Latus in July 2002 and claps in triumph during his sentencing.

I cry reading these sad events and as type this. I see myself on some of these pages. How many times have a shut up and conceded to keep the peace? I've done things I didn't want to do just to have a moments peace. I know I have. I cry because this has been me in the past and could be anyone I love right now.

I read the acknowledgments and see:

"To the people at Elliott's Fair Grounds, who knew when to respect my silence and when to lift me from the dark place."

I realize that Janine Latus is local. Elliott's Fair Grounds is a local coffee shop that Justin and I frequent. It sends a shiver down my spine to think that this is really happening to people next to me at the coffee shop, at work, in the grocery store.

I asked Justin last night if he would ever punch me in the stomach. We laughed about it and I said, "who are these people who are punching women in the stomach and who are these women being punched in the stomach?"

I'm afraid that now I know the answer.

52 in 52

I haven't posted a new blog in over a year. I really can't say it was for lack of material. A lot has happened in the past 13 months since my last post. I've definitely had a lot to say...just ask Justin about that. I can only blame my lack of posts on laziness. Good old fashioned laziness. However, I'm hoping that will all change in 2008 as I start my 52 in 52. In an attempt to be more well read and find more time for myself I am going to start my own 52 in 52 reading program. There is no need for me to register and no preset booklist to follow. I will simply find one book to read for every week of 2008. The only rule I have set for myself is for reading level: nothing lower than YA. I think that's fairly reasonable considering some YA can be pretty substantial reading material.

So that's the plan. I am really optimistic about my 52 in 52. If in the end of 2008 I only manage to read 45 books I will still be proud of myself. If any of you have any books to suggest feel free to send them my way.

I am woman, hear me roar...because I was abused as a child.

I really hate Lifetime. It's supposed to be geared toward women. I'm a woman and I think everything on that channel sucks ass. When I try to apply the rules of the Lifetime channel to my real life there is a definite double standard. There are women out there who hate to acknowledge it, but it's true. Women can do anything that men can do, BUT men can't do anything women can do. I see all you feminazis out there giving one another high fives...sit your ass down. This is NOT a good thing. When women have their own channel it's empowering. When men have one it's chauvinistic. They're pigs. By the way, how long did it take for Spike TV to come along? Forever. Lifetime has been around since the earth cooled, and has been horrible for that long. And the Oxygen channel...why do we need one of those? As if Lifetime hasn't been turning women's brains into mush for the past 2 decades!

Wait, there's more. You've all seen a Lifetime movie. They're meant to empower women. Here's how a typical Lifetime movie goes:
1. Woman has beautiful home and family
2. Woman is not satisfied with beautiful home and family
3. Woman A) cheats on husband B) leaves family C) kills family or D) all of the above
4. Woman has sex with toy boy
5. Woman cries a lot
6. Woman is found out
7. Woman cries a lot
8. Woman A) is accepted with open arms by husband and family B) flees to Mexico with toy boy or C) is caught by the police but is given community service and a slap on the wrist because she claimed to be a battered wife.
9. Woman cheats on husband again with female parole officer (it's just what she's wanted all along)
10. Husband is castrated (OK, that doesn't usually happen. I wouldn't be surprised, though)

Now, replace the woman with a man and he's instantly a scum bag. Both his wife AND mistress are the victims. His wife nags him. His mistress nags him. His children nag him. Then he's stoned to death by the community for killing these awful people. Where is the humanity??? Don't even get me started on the Lifetime/Oxygen movies where there is a 30-something teacher who sleeps with her 15 year old student. She's in love with him. She's not a child molester. She's showing him the love that he doesn't get at home. Waa waa waa. Now, turn that kind hearted educator into a man and he's instantly a sex pervert. No way he could love his student. He's a man. Men are incapable of love! He's not showing her affection. He's taking advantage of a poor unsuspecting girl. Cut off his balls! Gasp! Seriously, my point is that women need to get over themselves. Get your head out of your own ass and realize that no "programming for women" is going to make you strong. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's making you dumber by the minute. You're the only one who can empower you. Watching Nancy McKeon battle her demons as a female cop won't make you stronger.

Men have better programming anyway. Why would I want to watch another "Hallmark Hall of Fame" movie with Patrick Dempsey in it when I could watch Rambo and Platoon back to back?? Now that's quality television.

Is it just me, or does anyone else think Shakira sings like she has a massive loogie in her throat?

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum

Ladies, listen up! I’m begging you: GET RID OF YOUR GAUCHOS! I hate those things. The purpose of the gaucho is to give a woman “the beauty of a skirt and the comfort of pants.” Bullshit. They may have the comfort of pants, but the beauty of the skirt thing is a load of crap. Whoever told you they looked good, lied straight to your face. They don’t look like a flowing skirt, ladies. They are more like high water Hammer pants. I guess if you want to look like a pirate they’re fine. All you wannabe hipster trash kids know what I’m talking about. Pirates are the new black. How soon you all forget the pirate puffy shirt craze in the ‘90s! That lasted all of 2 weeks. Why? Because the puffy pirate shirt makes you look like a jackass unless you’re intercepting boats on the open seas and stealing Chiquita bananas. Stop with the gauchos already.

Finally, another post

I don't know why I'm having such a hard time keeping up with this whole blog thing. I had a Xanga a while back, and I would post about 5 times a week for a whole year. Then again, I wasn't as happy back then. I guess it's safe to assume that my lack of posts is a good thing...a sign that I am much happier now. I have less to complain about, that's for sure. But not completely without things to complain about...

I recently had a situation with a coworker that should not have happened. We were having a "conversation" and she made a racist statement that sent me on one of my mini crusades. I use the word conversation very loosely...it was more like her talking at me in a very condescending way, but I digress. I had heard stories of her using the word nigger 20 times in a 5 minute conversation; but never having heard her say it in my presence, I had no right to take any action. So she's talking to me (and I won't even go into what the conversation was about because that will just piss me off even more) and she leans in to whisper to me, "...she's a BLACK lady. You know how THEY are".
That made my fists clench and my heart beat in my ears. Everything after that sounded like, "blah, blah, blah. Yakkity schmakkity do."

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm not one to just sit on my ass and not say/do anything about this. And being the bitch that I am, I said:
"No, I don't know how THEY are. I respect your right to your opinion and understand the role of stereotypes in this world…especially, in this workplace. You can be racist, sexist, ageist, or homophobic, I really don’t care. However, I would appreciate if you kept that to yourself and try not to say things like “you know how THEY are” in my presence. For your information, the word nigger describes someone who is lazy, stupid, and just plain disgusting and not a skin color. It's a personality, a state of mind...so you're a white nigger."

I just had to do it. Everyone at work is appalled by her racist attitude, but no one ever says anything to her. I think that's what pissed me off the most. Everyone comes running to me telling me how she just said nigger 10 times, or how she always starts a story by saying, "this black guy, that black girl, that Asian man etc." No one is ever just a man, guy, girl, woman...she always has to mention race. I figured since everyone is just silently accepting how disgusting she is, I should be the one to finally challenge her. She hated it. She was pissed at me for days. She walked around the office telling everyone how mad she was at me. When everyone asked what I did wrong she simply said she didn't want to talk about it. Of course she didn't want to...she was in the wrong. Imagine how embarrassed you would be if you told someone, "I'm mad at Kim because I said something racist to her and she told me about myself."
Again, if you know me you would know that this lit another fire under me. Who the hell was she to get mad at me? She was mad at me for challenging her nasty attitude? She was mad at me for being disgusted by her? She was mad at me for exposing her for the bigot that she really is? Fuck that! At first, I was just going to leave it alone after telling her what I thought. I thought that by telling her how I felt she might finally get the point. I was wrong. Instead, she thought I was the bad guy because I didn't just ignore her remark. So one day I marched into my supervisor's office and told her what had happened. I told her that I didn't think it was right that I should have to come to work and feel uncomfortable...that everyone should think I'm the bad guy for making this woman upset. She upset me, and that's what started the whole thing. My anger was justified, and hers was not. I also should not have to feel uncomfortable thinking that behind my back she is calling me a chink, jap, gook, nigger, dog eater, dirty rice picker etc. to my coworkers. I've been called all those things and worse. Justin and I have been given dirty looks and ignored because he is white and I am not. I should not have to experience all that at work...the place where I spend 50% of my time.

Luckily for me, my boss loves me. Also, my boss is Jewish and knows what it's like to face that kind of bigotry. Needless to say, this coworker is being forced to attend sensitivity training and counseling with the Employee Assistance Program for the next 6 months...again. She just finished a round of counseling for something she said the another coworker. Yeah, she's an all star.

The funny thing is that as disgusted as I am with racist comments, I'm even more pissed off that she was stupid enough to say these things at work. I know everyone has some kind of prejudice. Everyone believes one stereotype or another. To broadcast them at your place of work and then get mad when someone takes offense to it is just plain stupid. I guess she thought it was OK to say these things to me because I'm not black. Then again, she doesn't know me very well. She doesn't know that I'll snap on anyone at anytime if it means defending something I feel very strongly about. Believe me, that gets me into a lot of trouble. That's a different blog all together.

I think my point in posting this is to get you to realize that it's not enough to just be disgusted or offended by people like that. Your feelings will only mean something if you make then known. Not just known to other people, but known to the person who has offended you. This woman had gone to long calling people niggers, and no one said I thing to her. Silence is consent; so by not challenging her, everyone was giving her the impression that it was alright to say such things. Speak out for yourself AND for those who can not speak out for themselves. Don't just think what is right, do what is right.

One more thing:
I think David Blaine is a moron.

OK, so I suck.

I should be ashamed of myself. I am a disappointment to dedicated bloggers everywhere, and I apologize for that. I originally started this blog for Justin...not because he asked me to, but because I didn't think it was fair to subject him to any more of my ranting and raving. Don't let it fool you, I'm not going to stop bitching and moaning to him. Instead, the rest of the world will see what a maniac I am, and what this dear man has to put up with on a daily basis.

I have a tendency to go on "what's the deal with..." tirades a la Jerry Seinfeld. I also don't always have a point to these little tirades (again, a la Seinfeld), but I hope to leave you a little bit amused or contemplative at the very least.

So having said all that...what's the deal with MySpace. Everyone has one. Even those who don't want MySpace accounts have them. Justin and I are perfect examples. Fuck a MySpace...but I'll be damned if I go 2 days without checking my messages. Well, my problem isn't really with MySpace as a whole. I think it's a great idea when used with good intentions like keeping in touch with old friends or chatting with people who hold similar interests in music, movies, etc. Anyone who has ever had a Friendster account knows MySpace rips Friendster a new hole every time. So what's my issue with MySpace? Slutbag moms. Slutbag moms are my problem with MySpace. Everyone has seen a profile like this:

"My name is Jenny. I am a single mom, and I love my kids with all my heart. I love Jesus, for all things are possible through HIM. I'm looking for decent people who share my love of kids, puppies and Jesus the Christ."

Then, you look at Jenny's pictures and it goes like this:

Picture of Jenny without a shirt holding her nipples
Picture of Jenny licking her finger provocatively
Picture of Jenny's son, Madison, playing little league with a caption that reads, "My heart!"
Picture of Jenny taking a body shot out of a half-naked woman's navel


I totally understand that she's probably a wonderful mom. Unfortunately, she's also a very lonely woman. I just think these people should have a little more respect for their children than to sandwich them between pictures of them masturbating and making out with 3 other people. If Jenny wants to have a page with her kids on it, she should keep it clean/cleaner. If she wants a slutty MySpace she should keep her kids out of it. I really would hate to see what would happen to poor Madison when all his classmates see his mom's nipple pictures on the internet. Like I said, EVERYONE has a MySpace. I see little kids everyday at work who are looking at MySpace profiles. Save your children the embarrassment. If you're a horny middle-aged single mom don't post your kid's picture next to a picture of you touching yourself. Also, even if you THINK you're a M.I.L.F. you're probably NOT.