Your Privilege is Showing

April 29, 2017

There’s a constant stream on social media of privileged assholes who are forever bitching about rights initiatives, and when I say ‘bitching’, I mean they are whining that current initiatives are cramping their style.

International Women’s Day, Black History Month (and/or #blacklivesmatter), Pride events, and anything else that falls under a marginalized group’s event category, are all amazing and important to millions.

Truth be told, these should be important to you even if you don’t personally fall into the category of a marginalized demographic. Because we’re all human, and we’re supposed to look out for one another. It baffles me that more people don’t feel this way.

BUT if you are someone who questions why there isn’t an International Men’s Day (there is one though), or a White History Month (are you fucking serious?), or Straight Pride (honestly, sit the fuck down, you dumb bitch), then I’m here to tell you that you have issues.

Please spend some time researching the terms you seem to have a problem with. Try to understand that, sometimes, it’s not all about you. Better yet, be a more well-rounded person and engage with people who aren’t your exact mirror image, so that you can relate when issues outside of your bubble come up. Be friends or acquaintances with people who are different from you so that you don’t go into the world as a completely ignorant asshole.

Lastly, think of others the way you’d like to be thought of. I’ll bet  your empathy levels will go through the roof.

😘

 

 


I’m bordering on having an existential crisis

March 14, 2017

Have you ever been consumed by a sense that you should be somewhere else, or doing something else…or both? My mind has been buzzing lately. I feel fairly certain that my life needs a significant shake-up, but I can’t seem to settle my racing thoughts long enough to formulate any ideas. Actually, that’s not quite true. I can think of many things I’d love to try…things like relocating to somewhere completely new, changing careers, exploring outlandish lifestyle options that would take me out of the rat race….but I can’t begin to figure out how to even start. All I can think about are all the obstacles. Do I just throw a dart at a vision board, pick something, and work towards it? I wish I could just teleport to a terrace in Barcelona and transform my life accordingly. Of course, instantaneous change is a pipe dream. There is usually no quick fix. I believe that a dream scenario in itself is indeed attainable, and the path to such a scenario can be exhilarating. I just can’t calm down long enough to chart the path.

How do I quiet my inner chatter and focus? God, I need to go visit a shrink.


Cheers to women, and to the people who love and respect them

March 8, 2017

My wish for this International Women’s Day is for at least a few men and women (who don’t get it yet) to be awakened to the idea that being a feminist does not equal man-hating, or extremism, or hypersensitivity. It takes time and education to get there. I personally learned so much about things I didn’t realize I needed to learn, as recently as 5-6 years ago. It’s okay not to be completely enlightened, as long as you realize it’s never too late to open your heart and mind. All love! ❤️


Could you ever go on a hunger strike?

March 2, 2017

I was watching a TV show where a character started a hunger strike under protest.

Aside from the fact that I have always had trouble understanding what one person or group starving themselves truly does to inconvenience a nemesis or opposing party, I cannot imagine voluntarily refraining from eating for more than a day or so (not counting when I’m ill).

When I first lived on my own and worked in a low-paying job, I remember occasionally being low on funds, but food was always the first priority after rent.

Mind you, I think my current self is finicky enough to go a while without eating if the available food wasn’t up to my standards. I know, I know – that scenario is galaxies away from the concept of a hunger strike.

An ex-boyfriend once called me out because, after over 4 hours of rollerblading in scorching heat, I passed on refilling my water bottle with lukewarm water from a faulty fountain, and decided I’d wait until we encountered a vendor to buy a bottle of sufficiently refrigerated water from, even at the risk of heat stroke.

I can definitely be a “first world problems” type of gal. I like to think, however, that I can adapt if necessary. But voluntarily depriving myself of food to get the attention of authorities who’ve already shown that they don’t care about my platform? I just can’t fathom it. I feel like I’m missing something when it comes to this tactic. It seems like a sit-in, a march or a bombardment of letters would accomplish somewhat the same result, no? Maybe I’m naive.


Is anyone still wondering why we think Trump is a trash bag?

January 28, 2017

Anyone? Because if you truly support this literal scumbag, and are still pretending to be tolerant, I honestly think you’re in denial of how xenophobic, misogynistic, and racist you yourself actually are.


Poor, Aggrieved Dictators

February 23, 2011

Such long-suffering saints, they’d have you believe.

As protests sweep the Middle East, I, like most people, have experienced a range of emotions.  I haven’t followed closely enough to be an authority on political affairs in that part of the world, but I have paid enough attention to be incredulous and completely incensed that so much of what is happening has been allowed to transpire.  As a Western society, we often speak of how we never want to see another Holocaust happen – and yet all over the globe, similarly evil acts are performed each day.  I won’t get into the myriad reasons to be outraged about this because there are plenty of people more knowledgeable than myself who can comment more eloquently.  I’d simply like to share some of the thoughts that have been swimming through my head as these events – at once horrifying and inspiring – unfold.

On Thursday February 10th, right after Hosni Mubarak deigned to deliver his I-ain’t-goin’-nowhere-bitches speech (and not long before he snuck out of Cairo and had his VP deliver a 30-second He’s-outta-here-bitches announcement),  I felt let-down and sorry for the tired, distraught protesters in and outside of Tahrir square – and then the absurd hilarity sunk in. 

Millions of people had heckled him for over 2 weeks, and this man was so adamantly trying to hold onto the presidency, like a stubborn cat clinging with its claws for dear life to the new plush couch you’re trying to extricate it from.  He was repeatedly told by these same people, in no uncertain terms, to get the hell out.  He chose instead to patronize the protesters and dig in his heels.  It was hard to tell whether he was being obstinate or delusional, but either way, it was starting to seem really, really pathetic.

I had no idea that not two weeks later, Muammar Gaddafi would make Mubarak look downright lucid. Read the rest of this entry »