Non Sequitur

About two months ago I was very ill and sitting at home in my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pj's and reading articles/watching youtube as a break from all of the naps.  As I sat there, feeling a bit blobbish wrapped in a blanket, and sipping tea for my sinus infection, I came across the "Blurred Lines" video and controversy.  As I watched the video, an inescapable descriptor for the women in the video dawned on me.

"Sex Kitten".

I thought for a minute about all the connotations of this as the artist sang and the women bounced.  I looked down at my dogs-toasting-marshmallows flannel pajamas,

"Fuck that.  I am NOT a sex kitten,"  Said I to my computer. "I am a SEX LION".
I sneezecoughed into a tissue.
"HEAR ME ROAR".

Terrifying Halloween Costumes

Halloween is next week and I am not at all prepared for it.  In general the months seem to slip away without me noticing until I go into CVS and see the upcoming holiday's paraphernalia staring me in the face.  I'm always that person exclaiming over how I can't believe it is already (insert month and holiday here).  And of course I have been shocked all week because I can't believe next week is Halloween!  And that means Thanksgiving and Christmas are right around the corner and I do not feel ready for any of it!

Luckily CVS and every other store starts putting up Christmas stuff so early (as in they already have Christmas everything on sale now, in October) that by the time I get to December 25th I am as ready as I am ever going to be for my favorite holiday.  But even though the stores warned me and I have pulled out my many scarves and my beautiful boots, even though I am now wearing jeans more than dresses and have even spotted colorful trees amongst the concrete jungle I live in I am still not ready for Halloween yet.

I guess it comes down to the fact that I'm not really as crazy about Halloween as I am other holidays.  First off Halloween is a holiday devoted to everything ugly and scary and I just prefer pink ribbons and pretty things and not having nightmares when I am trying to sleep.  Secondly it is a holiday that is based on originality, not traditions and so I cannot just sit back and do the same thing I did last year, I must come up with something new and especially exciting to do every year.  And finally dressing up for Halloween is expensive.  No matter how hard I try to thrift shop and pull from my own wardrobe a clever costume I always wind up spending more money than I would like on accessories and the like for something that I only wear once.  I guess I would just rather spend that money on a cute dress that I will love and can wear over and over again for years to come.

My boyfriend and I finally decided on a Halloween party we wanted to go to that is happening this coming weekend and I thought it might be fun to go costume shopping together.  I thought it would be a nice, chill activity for us to do together, that was until I walked into the Halloween store.  Speaking of the Halloween store, what an interesting business!  Once a year these stores pop up everywhere and they charge a ridiculous amount of money for plastic dresses and props and then as soon as November rolls around they disappear until next year.  Anyway, we walked into the store and I was hoping to be inspired, to see something really cool that I would want to wear or at least see something that I could recreate at home or that I might like to imitate.  Instead of being inspired I got really depressed.  As far as I could tell I could be pretty much anything I wanted as long as it was extremely sexy and the costume was super revealing.

 Women can have any career they want as long as they dress sexy.

And this discovery lead me into super feminist mode where I got very upset and had to rant to my very patient boyfriend about how awful it was that my only choice was to dress up as some guy's fantasy.  I don't mind being sexy or dressing in a provocative way; I have worn my fair share of short skirts and have artfully exposed my cleavage, but I decide when I want to dress like that and to what extent.  I feel a silly amount of pressure about this holiday and dressing up as it is, I don't need additional pressure to dress up as something that is going to make me uncomfortable.  And what was worse was that all of the men's costumes looked pretty cool.  All of the men's costumes were of super heros and warriors and badass bad guys.  And all of their costumes looked appropriate for a cool crisp end of October day.  So for all of my boyfriend's suggestions I offered none and shot done each and everyone of his.

I love being a woman and most of the time I feel really great about being an independent woman who is powerful and totally in control of her life.  But sometimes being a woman sucks.  And sometimes all it takes is a Halloween store to remind me of how unequal life still is just because I am a woman.  So we left the store empty handed and while we are still planning on going to that Halloween party this weekend we still don't have any ideas for an uncomplicated, inexpensive, non exploitative costume that you can still dance in.

Suggestions are welcome!

Did They Send Me Daughters When I Asked for Sons?* (Spoiler alert: Yes!)

I read the New York Times Room for Debate on “Are Modern Men Manly Enough?” the other day, and it infuriated me. The current trajectory of deciding to attack men and masculinity because it’s no longer PC to attack women and femininity is really frustrating. Gender roles are frustrating and problematic, and I’m going to leave it right there.

Yup, right there.

I did not find any persuasive arguments in that particular RFD: I agreed with the common sense authors, and found those stuck in Leave it to Beaver, well, stuck in Leave it to Beaver.

It did, however, get me thinking about what I think a good man is, and subsequently, my father and his father. My grandfather died earlier this year, leaving behind a legacy of gentle faith, natural living, and beautiful carpentry. All his sons learned woodworking from him, though my father is probably the best at it because he uses it the most often. (Don’t worry, uncles, you’re both very talented also!)

My grandad built me a dollhouse when I was six, and a carved pen and pencil set when I was twenty-three. My dad completely restored the house I grew up in. It’s not for me to say whether or not we should always follow in our parents footsteps, but reading that RFD made me realise how much the builder’s aspect looks like love to me, to my family.

Love also looks a lot like this. That's my granddad. And a wild fawn.

So, I’m going to learn woodworking from my dad. I’ve always wanted to, but never had the wherewithal to just go down to his woodshop and start helping him. Like me, my father is an introvert, and the shop is very much his space.

But it’s not just about love and family tradition. It’s also about practicality. The other half of modern culture where I live (and who I’m friends with) is “throw money at the problem until it goes away”. I am firmly entrenched in this camp. My brother can reshingle a roof. My mom can fix and replace pipes. My dad can… do everything. I can write blog posts, make cookies, and make you a mean martini when you get home from your hard day. If something breaks, I wail into my candy-striped apron until Lennon fixes it.**

I have some basics down. You don’t grow up in a family like mine without getting excited about sawzalls (my parents each have their own) and tablesaws and knowing to watch your fingers while you’re cutting that plank because that’s how pop-pop lost the top of his. That led me to tech theater in college. I can build a set. But, I couldn’t build you a chair. Or a cabinet. Or a door. I can’t install a doorknob. Or sand a floor. Or put up real walls.

Ultimately, I’m hoping the tutelage will turn to finishing the master bathroom - the very last room to be done in the house my parents bought twenty years ago. I learn by doing. I should have all the practical DIY skills I need by next year.

And next Christmas, everyone gets reindeer made of pipe sockets and copper tubing.

*To clarify my title, my father was tickled pink at having a daughter. I am the only girl child in my family. 

**To clarify that entire paragraph.