A Hip-Flask of Champagne and a Sensible Pot of Tea

I had various strains of an interesting argument about the best modern uses of feminism that I was considering turning into a post, but instead I just need to let off a rant:

I don't remember your name and I don't care, but to whomever wrote in Entertainment Weekly that Lizbeth Salander might not be a good feminist character I say.... You're an idiot.

Either that, or someone threw a dart at all their female employees to choose who would give a response to that question and that's how you wound up so out of your depth. One or the other.

Her argument against this character being a good or proper feminist character (I'm too peeved to reread the exact wording) is because she sleeps with a male character and doesn't like her body shape.

REALLY, E.W.? YOU PUBLISHED THIS?

So if she was 100% lesbian instead of 'just' bisexual, and if she sang I'm Every Woman when she devotes hours, days, weeks of her life to fighting back against men who hate and abuse women, instead of sometimes looking at her body and experiencing doubts about it - like a human being - then and only then you'd approve of her?

I don't know what feminism is. But for it to mean anything it has to be more than just running our thoughts and actions by a different set of pundits.

Also, let the record reflect she is described as having the physique of a teenage boy. So, yeah, that she wonders about how much of a turn on it may or may not be for her lovers seems normal. Which I assume is the verboten aspect of the character.

That's right. Someone looked at LIZBETH SALANDER and decided she's too normal. If you need to take a moment after processing that thought, I'm right there with 'ya.

Gah. Just wake me when it stops being a shock that we're people.

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Now if you want to debate the Mary/Gary-Stu-ness of the writing, that could be a whole other story...

You know those old wives tales that sometimes turn out to be true? Lemon juice fades freckles, ginger is good for upset stomach, etc...? I discover them.

Not many, but since I was a kid I've been a constant experimentress. Self-hypnosis, math and geometry formulas I can't remember now but that made tests easier, you name it. I can remember waiting for my school bus one snowy morning as a kid and thinking that if bodies produce heat, you should be able to fog up glass without breathing on it. I held my thumb to the window and and when I pulled back was thrilled to see a thumb-shaped silhouette against a new background of fog.

This is a long way of saying that what I'm about to say sounds weird - because it is weird - but it comes from a long-tradition of constructive oddity.

I've been more diligent about using skin care creme lately, which has resulted in more blackheads. A Google search for home remedies was not inspiring (honey? Tweezing one by one after a steam bath?), so I tried my ol' standy by: Scotch tape.

Scotch tape is great, FYI, for clearing up oil if you're about to run into a meeting and don't have time to run to the bathroom to wash up, or are afraid a last-minute wash will result in red skin more noticeable than shiny skin. Other than that, its cosmetic use is limited. It's not the eyebrow shaper we all wish it could be, and other than helping me remove a home chemical peel earlier today, it's usually not in my cosmetic bag o' tricks. But not relishing the prospect of slathering my face in honey, I tried leaving a strip on for an entire tv episode.

Success! I think the non-porous nature of the tape creates its own steam environment if left on long enough. I'm using off-brand Scotch, but it's the clear kind, not opaque (which I find to be less sticky).

I know sharing this makes me sound a bit dorké, but in case y'all were asking yourself or Google how to get rid of blackheads, there's your answer.

If only I'd had this sort of brainwave while the internet was sitting around waiting to be invented. You win for now, Al Gore! For now....

Dear June:

You are supposed to be gloomy. Hence "June Gloom." You're supposed to be the one time of the year when I can guaranteed get my weather fix, and fond memories to take me through boiling summers.

You were not supposed to get into the 90's in my apartment today.

Be gloomier!

No love,
Me

Singing along to a cd of EMusic songs that I made to take into work. My cat's response to my singing can best be summed up thusly:



Everybody's a critic.

Stolen with love from the lolhistory com.

Nice to see the fine folks at Six Apart haven't changed. I found a great article by the author of the latest book on the Resistance on his Vox site (a freelance item about Daniel Cordier that no one picked up) and I posted a reply thanking him for posting it and asking a few followup questions. Only when creating a Vox account (which you have to to reply) did I notice it was a Six Apart product.

A few seconds later I found out the only part of my message to take was "Thanks for this!"

Way to keep down that average, Six Apart!

Have now set my brand new Twitter account (got just for this) to say I'm tweeting from Tehran. There's a rumor that if Iran is trying to shut down local tweets that this might distract them.

I give that about 0% chance of being true, but just in case...

No, a grudge match between Gov. Palin and Letterman is not more important than potential revolution in Iran. I'm getting better intel from FARK and Twitter.

Fark and Twitter. Go to your room and think about that, MSM.

Speaking of Fark, nice find:



Go Buckeyes!

(PS: Those of you who Twitter I hear there's a great aggregate for posts there. This may be what gets me to cave and sign up.)

SPOILER ALERT

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All snark aside, this is actually something I'm loving. It feels like I can peer a bit more closely inside the process. I know I do this in my own writing, so seeing that it's actually part of someone whose work I admire assures me it isn't a defect. Every time we write, we write a variation on the stories we love and write best, and every time we use something we found before as well as something new discovered on the way.

Every time I learn something more about the writing process not just by memorization but by peering into it and thinking 'that sky really is blue, isn't it?' is another moment I grow more secure as a writer. Maybe better, maybe not, but a lot less like I'm crashing the party.

Dear Juilliard,

I just spent over four hundred dollars on plane tickets I already owned. Please to not be re-arranging your schedule again any time soon, kthnxbye.

Now off to work my new part-time job to help pay for it.