Jody is feeding it on a more or less 24-hour schedule right now–enough to keep it reasonably active, but not the full schedule necessary for bread readiness. When Jody wants to make bread, she’ll feed it about every 8 hours or so for a day beforehand.
Friday Slurm Blogging
Love —> Buildings on Fire
Not really fire; just sunset reflected in the windows of Lone Mountain campus, USF.
Tolerance: Inappropriate in Fort Wayne
Here’s a story of basic human decency in darkest Indiana:
Sophomore Megan Chase wrote an opinion piece – her first for the [school] newspaper – that appeared in the Jan. 19 issue of the Woodlan Tomahawk that questioned people who believe it’s wrong to be gay or lesbian. Chase said she wrote the piece after a friend disclosed to her he was gay.
“I can only imagine how hard it would be to come out as homosexual in today’s society,” Chase wrote. “I think it is so wrong to look down on those people, or to make fun of them, just because they have a different sexuality than you. There is nothing wrong with them or their brain; they’re just different than you.”
…and of the efforts of school officials to crush it:
A student editorial in the Woodlan Junior-Senior High School newspaper calling for more tolerance for gays and lesbians sparked the principal to seek approval of each edition before it goes to print and issue a written warning against the journalism teacher….
Principal Edwin Yoder wrote a letter to the newspaper staff and journalism teacher Amy Sorrell insisting he sign off on every issue. Sorrell and the students contacted the Student Press Law Center, an advocacy group for student newspapers, which advised them to appeal the decision.
Last week, Yoder issued Sorrell a written warning for insubordination and not carrying out her responsibilities as a teacher. He accused her of exposing Woodlan students, who are in grades seven through 12, to inappropriate material and said if she did not comply with his orders she could be fired.
Inappropriate material. Advance Indiana has the full text of the editorial (scroll down). Go read it and see if you can tell any better than I can what the ‘inappropriate’ part is. The part where she says homosexuality is not a disease? Where she says it’s unfair for religion to condemn people to hell for something that isn’t a choice? Where she says being homosexual doesn’t make a person inhuman?
The journalism teacher and students are fighting it, with help from the Student Press Law Center. Meanwhile, the Fort Wayne Community School District “encourages [us] to comment or ask questions”, so if you have any comments or questions be sure to drop them a line.
(Hat tip: Shakespeare’s Sister.)
[Cross-posted at If I Ran the Zoo]
Endometriosis as Metaphor
Endometriosis is a disease in which part of the endometrium—the lining of the uterus that thickens throughout the month and is shed during menstruation—detaches from the uterus and instead attaches to other parts of the body. Usually it stays in the region of the pelvis, but it can attach to the spine, to nerves, and to organs, causing terrible pain.
In the past year or two, I have had increasing symptoms of perimenopause. To the point where I know longer refer to menstruation as my “period.” It is now my “random.” And one thing I’ve noticed is that my lifelong menstrual and pre-menstrual symptoms are also random, and don’t necessarily coincide with my randoms. They’ve detached themselves from my randoms and attached themselves to other parts of the month. And I thought that endometriosis was the perfect metaphor for what I was going through, an endometriosis of my hormonal changes.
Then I remembered my first marriage. When I was a teenager, I dated a raging alcoholic. After he stopped drinking, I married him. I thought the lack of alcohol would make things better, but in a way, it made things worse. His drunken behaviors still occured, but now, instead of being predictably attached to drinking, they floated randomly throughout life and fired off unpredictably. I realized that these symptoms, too, were like endometriosis; a sort of endometrial alcoholism.
And I thought, Why has no one ever used endometriosis as a metaphor before? It’s not rare (5.5 million sufferers!) or hard to understand. There are all sorts of things that cause problems by detaching themselves from their predicted and ordinary locations.
Which is when I realized the answer: Misogyny. Endometriosis is too gross to use as a metaphor. Cancer isn’t too gross. Cancer is used as a metaphor all the time. Cancer is deadly and foul-smelling and painful and nasty, but not too gross to say that every mold, spore, weed, bad idea, and ugly clothing trend “spreads like a cancer.”
Here are other things that aren’t too vulgar or too unpleasant to use as metaphors: Bowel movements, erections, vomit, impotence, peeing in your pants, fever, being kicked in the balls.
But here are things you never hear used as metaphors: Menstruation, menopause, hot flashes, lactation, vaginal discharge.
You see, not only can’t you say “vagina,” but you can’t be made to think about the icky female things that come out of vaginas (or breasts), even metaphorically. You know how everything you ever wanted to know, you learned in kindergarten? It’s true: Girls have cooties.
Introducing Evn
Today’s Tuesday Trivia is posted by Evn. In addition to being a horror movie buff and a regular commentator here at Property of a Lady, Evn has an intermittently-active blog (Lover of Strife) on being Pagan, gay, fabulous, and sarcastic. Not necessarily in that order.
I’m going out of town tomorrow afternoon until Sunday night and am not sure of my Internet access. Tom, as usual, will be guest-blogging, but so will Evn, especially in the trivia department.
So be nice to him and have fun with the horror movies. I peeked at his quiz. I don’t know any of them.
P.S. “Admin” is me, Deborah.
Final Oscar Update
Since this is the last Monday before the Oscars, and since I have travel scheduled and won’t have much time for movie viewing in the coming week, here are what I assume will be my final standings (movies I’ve seen in green). I am very bad at predicting who will win. My picks are merely who I want to win.
Here are the nominees in the five major categories:
Monday Movie Review: Best Picture Roundup
In honor of next Sunday’s Oscar broadcast, here are my mini-reviews for the Best Picture nominees.
Babel (original review) 10/10
Objectively, this is probably the best of the five films, although not my favorite. It is a technical masterpiece, bringing together the disparate threads in a way that is intelligent and respectful of the audience (some of these post-Pulp Fiction interconnected story movies are just obnoxious, like they’re messing with your head for fun). The local and particular feeling created for four different countries is quite impressive. The final shot is one of my favorite film shots of the year.
The Departed (original review) 10/10
The most emotionally intense of the nominees, and my personal favorite to win. I originally rated this 9/10, because it does go on a bit too long and the ending is a bit out of control. But it’s the one that stays with me and the one I care most about. That counts a lot. And it’s fucking brilliant.
Little Miss Sunshine (original review) 10/10
If I rated movies with more objectivity and less emotion, this would get a nine. But I don’t and it doesn’t. Definitely the most flawed of the nominees, it’s also the only comedy, and silly plot holes get more elbow room in silly movies. I persist in loving Paul Dano beyond all words (teehe).
The Queen 10/10
As with The Departed and Little Miss Sunshine, I’m kinda wavering between a 9 and a 10. It’s a somewhat cool and distant movie, but that’s on purpose, because we’re talking royal family here, a somewhat cool and distant group of people. An emotional maelstrom would have been wrong. The delicacy of Mirren‘s performance, and the outrageousness of James Cromwell‘s, are the standouts for me.
Letters from Iwo Jima 10/10
Another technically perfect movie, what strikes me most about Letters from Iwo Jima is that every time you think it’s making a statement, it backs away and seems to make a different one. The Japanese are sympathetic. The Japanese are sadistic. War is dishonorable. War is honorable. Americans commit atrocities. Americans are extraordinarily compassionate. The only real statement, in the end, is that these were humans in this big battle, and the size of it, the history of it, the patriotism of it, mattered less in the end than the human individuals who cared about wives and children and going home.
Sunday Meditation: Getting Organized
Today I am preparing for a trip, finishing a writing project, getting caught up on other writing projects, and oh, yeah, organizing tax information. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. So today is a good day to look at how not to get overwhelmed.
First, before meditating, if you have a to do list, write it down. What this does is get the things to do out of your head and onto paper. You can forget about them now, because they’re written down. No need to focus or to remember, just do whatever task you’re doing at the moment, and rely on the written list to tell you what’s next. I find the list is crucial for keeping me out of my head and preventing panic.
Set up your first task. Suppose you’re me and you have to write something. Sit at your desk with your word processor ready to go. Or suppose you have a big meal to prepare. Get your hands washed, your apron on, and sit in the kitchen. Now, ground and center.
Allow calm to run through your body. Allow yourself to feel soothed. Energy moves through you, from your center, radiating to your extremities. With each breath, soothing energy moves from your center to your hands, feet, and head. You feel relaxed and alert.
Say to yourself “I am doing this.” (Fill in the task. “I am writing.” “I am cooking.”)
Take a deep breath, and as you exhale, release anything that isn’t your task.
Breathe in, and repeat your “I am doing this” affirmation.
Breath out, and release everything else.
Now do the task.
When you’re ready, go to your list for your next task and repeat the process.
Don’t Go Down to the Pier
In 1983 I had a boyfriend named John Franza. He had this tape* that a friend of his had made. Never met the friend, can’t remember her name. She was a singer-songwriter, and it was a demo tape, with maybe five songs on it. John, Roberta and I would listen to that tape over and over. We loved it.
For two days I’ve had one of the songs, Don’t Go Down to the Pier Tonight, stuck in my head.
Don’t go down to the pier tonight
There’s a boat sailing out on a mirror of moonlight
I gotta do what’s right
I”m going back to the boys tonight.
I can’t believe I remember that. Unbelievably catchy hook, killer delivery with a powerhouse voice packed with emotion. Her co-writer was a gay guy she’d had a relationship with, and this song was their story (he went “back to the boys”).
There was another song called “Which Window,” which was an unrequited love song. The lonely guy follows his love to her apartment building and sits outside, wondering which window is hers. Which window, which window is hers? is a very difficult line to sing over and over, but she did it.
I have no idea who that woman was, whatever happened to her, if she ever had any success as a musician. But I’ve got to acknowledge the power of songwriting that remains memorable after twenty-four years.
*Cassette tape. We used them for music back then.
A brief glimpse of my life
This is one of those “sorry blogging has been lame” posts.
I am working to finish editing The Study of Witchcraft. Essentially, I am double-checking every book in the bibliography to see if it’s still in print. This is…slow. And already overdue.
I am also furiously trying to finish my first pass at the Teen book before the summer, since summer is when Arthur will be able to do most of his writing.
I am trying to prepare for ConVocation. One of the workshops I’ve been asked to do is one I haven’t done in several years, so I should compile more elaborate notes than I actually have. Also I would like to look better than I do for an event, and I notice big hunky chunks of gray roots coming in, but the place where I get my hair done probably doesn’t have time for me until Tuesday and I leave Wednesday so that’s cutting it close.
I’m really busy at the day job. I brought work home.
Arthur is a pain in the ass. Wants to be driven all kinds of places, wants money every time I exhale, eats so much that I pretty much can’t leave the supermarket, and expects laundry and cooked meals to appear whenever I wiggle my nose.
So. Busy.
And I really want to get back to doing thoughtful, eloquent, ravelicious blogging. Someday soon.
