I decided to add “equality” given that I do read a lot of articles with intersectionality that cover stopping a lot of -isms, and they are all equally important. As always, these are links that I found interesting and you might too.
Books Nominated for 2013 Hugo Awards!
Woohoo! Chicks Unravel Time & Chicks Dig Comics were nominated for The Hugo Awards. Big congratulations to the editors, all the other writers, and everyone else involved in the production and love of these books. 🙂
Introducing Moz Reader!
I love working for such an amazing company like SEOmoz. I’ve been so bummed about Google Reader shutting down, but guess what, we stepped up and created the Moz Reader! I’m really thrilled. (If you’re wondering where I was, I was in NYC instead of in the video.)
I’m a huge fan of Dear Sugar. Sugar’s advice column touches my soul in a way that I wish more things did. I find a great deal of meaning in what she writes, and many columns bring me to tears, which I am not the type of person to tear up at any sentiment. Sugar’s words dig deep into the truth of the soul. Like being wrapped in a gentle hug of brutal truth. This is why I and countless others love her.
In a recent interview, Sugar announced that she is coming out. While a few people know her identity, Sugar is by-and-large anonymous. She is currently the myth, the Batman. Sugar teaches us how to be brave by telling us about how she was not brave and how to push through our situations.
At first, I was very upset that Sugar was coming out. Identity holds so much baggage. It flavors the words we read. What do we think of Ernest Hemingway since we know he was a drunk? How does this impact Hills Like White Elephants? What do we think of To the Lighthouse when we know Virginia Woolf spent summers at a very similar place? What does it say about my words when you Google me?
When I first started hanging out on the internet, I did so anonymously. I did so in the comfort of my made up name, where I found a group of people with similar interests, who never judged me for who I was. This was huge for me. Especially as a young person figuring out who I was and finding my voice in this world.
No topic was taboo. And never did I worry about a future employer, my grandmother, or even my neighbor judging me based on my online identity. I know I said some stupid shit. I also wrote novels and novels of erotic fanfiction. This was all very beautiful; and I met a lot of my online friends where we spent weekends geeking out over Star Trek episodes or posing Buffy: the Vampire Slayer action figures in compromising positions. We ranged in age from barely adult to those reminiscing about dusty zines created on typewriters and traded under-the-table at early Elfquest gatherings. I will respond to my screenname.
But then came the move to be your “real self” online. College students thought Facebook was private until Zuckerberg and company invited your mom, your boss, and your 10-year-old cousin to the table. Somehow I don’t think my boss cares to know that I spent the entire X-Men: First Class movie waiting for Magneto and Professor X to kiss.
Moving away from my nom de plume to my legal name has in many ways taken away the brazenness of me and the rawness of what I speak. It took me forever to swear here, and it wasn’t until this past December that I used this “real” blog to tell the gut wrenching truth of how I came to be. That I had to face my family telling me, your stories hurt my feelings.
Perhaps, I am afraid this will happen to Sugar. I am afraid her words will be limited by having her name attached to them. I am afraid she will come across as less brave, less of that myth who’s worldly and universal truths wrap around my heart.
But at the same time, I understand Sugar’s need to come out. She deserves to publish a book of Sugar, and she deserves to be able to tell us Sugar-fans that we can support her by buying her current book. I know I want to read her book. So while I’m very afraid, in my own selfish way, I cannot wait to find out who the woman behind the mask is.
I hope that Sugar continues to be brave. That she tells even deeper stories now that she doesn’t have to worry about revealing her “real” identity. I hope that the truth is even more powerful behind her real name. I hope that she continues to speak loudly the stories that not all of us can under our “real” names.
She’ll always be Sugar to me. Even if she turns out to be my mother.*
(*Sugar is most definitely not my mother. This I am 100% certain of. Otherwise, I do not have clue as to whom is behind the column I love so dearly.)
• BP Disaster was “Avoidable” The commission reports find that it was due to failure on part of all the companies. Which means lazy companies caused on of the worst environmental disasters we’ve seen. And they aren’t properly cleaning it up.
A single phone call leveled my life. All my relationships, all my goals changed in an instant. I was 17-years-old, and it was Valentine’s Day.
It was also below freezing, and my mom, almost-aunt Buffy, and myself were out in the snow. Not by choice, but because sheep give birth regardless of weather. And I was so excited.
The day had been circled in red specifically for my sheep Starkisses to give birth. I’d already trimmed her thick black wool away from her rear end and udder in preparation. And my mom and I brought her and the other expecting ewes into a small corral. In their time of vulnerability, even normally skidish sheep make peace with human intervention.
Starkisses, Emma, and another ewe decided to give birth, all at the same time. Buffy always joked that one sheep gave the other the idea as if labor was the latest ranch fad. At these temperatures, our jobs were to get the moms and babies inside, get the babies warm and dry, and make sure they were eating. Newborn sheep are all limbs and no coordination.
The phone rang across the barnyard, and my mom answered it. Usually, it was just my younger brothers calling from the house. But it was for me.
Specifically, it was my ex-boyfriend, a pudgy boy, and a misogynist asshole prone to guilt-trips and tears. I figured he was trying to get back together with me. Again.
Jeremy had called to tell me that my best friend Charlie died of a heroin overdose. Later, I found out Jeremy told all my friends that I didn’t cry, that I didn’t care. That I was cold and politely told him my mom wanted me to get off the phone. Of course, the most powerful lies have some truth in them.
In that moment, a piece of permafrost laid itself in my soul.
I didn’t cry at that moment. The freezing temperatures helped; they shielded against every emotion cracking to the surface. And my mom did need my help to clean the wet, bloody placenta off newborn sheep. I had something that needed me more than my grief at that moment. I wouldn’t let my day be marred by more unnecessary deaths. Continue reading “My Birthday Bash Day 11: I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day”
Warning: This post is about sex. It is not about anyone’s sex life, but it is about sexual education and erotica.
When I was a little child, my mom had a medical reference picture book which talked about how babies developed. I assume she bought it so I wasn’t shocked when my brother Jonathan was born. I remember laying on the living room floor, in front of the TV, pouring over the illustrations of what a developing baby looked like inside its mother’s womb.
Besides this, my parents left sex education up to the schools. For three years in public school, 4th-6th grade, I received lectures about the changes happening in my young body. How babies were actually made was glimpsed only long enough so we knew you couldn’t get pregnant via kissing. (Jason informs me that this is what he thought after watching Look Who’s Talking.) After the first lecture, my mom came into my bedroom and asked me if I had any other questions. I told her no. And I guess this made her confident that the school did a good job. Especially when I mailed away for a ‘my first period’ kit that the school had given me a coupon for.
In 6th grade, things got a little more complex. For starters, sexual education was co-ed. Which meant immature boys. I was always a good student, and I remember being so mortified when I had to report 100% on my label the genitalia on this diagram tests.
However, when my period did come later that year, I calmly informed my mother and used the supplies in the kit. My only embarrassment came when we went to my maternal grandparent’s house that weekend, and my grandma and other female relatives made such a fuss over me growing up. (I was the oldest grandchild, and at the time, the only granddaughter.)
“But they’re your internet ‘friends,'” my maternal grandma said to me after I visited her post-WriterCon in 2004 and I showed her the photos of my fellow fangirls. “They aren’t, you know, weird?”
While my grandma only has my best interests at heart, her line of inquiry is one I’ve heard a lot. Yes, I have friends on the internet and the vast majority I met on the internet. And yes, I’ve met around 60% of them face-to-face. No, they’re not any more weird than I am, and *knock on wood* none of them are serial killers. But with shows like How to Catch a Predator spinning around in the zeitgeist, I’m not surprised I get these question.
True fact: the one and only time I’ve ever been cyberstalked was in college and it was an ex-boyfriend that I’d had in high school. I imagine this is true of most cyberstalking cases. Heck, look at the current cyber bullying problem; it’s all done by people the victim knew “in real life.”
Social networking, blogging, hanging out on these intertubes, it’s what I do, and naturally, I’ve made it a place to find friends. It’s certainly easier to find friends interested in the same things I am — Captain America, fluffy bunnies, and Lost Girl — with the entire world as my oyster. I’ve found that once you’ve met a handful of your online friends, from them on, one person knows another, who knows another. The world is far smaller than you’d think.
My internet friends aren’t just internet friends. They are my real life friends. They are the ones who cheer me up on a bad day with e-mails, photos, and silly stories. My “internet” friends let me and Jason crash at their homes when we went to the Olympics in Vancouver and when we went to DC this past fall. Some of them are acquaintances; some are good friends; and some are like family.
In 2004, I met my friend Jess online. I’d left her a comment on a piece of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer fanfiction she’d written about Willow/Tara, and whatever it was, we struck a cord together. We started e-mailing and im’ing back and forth. Jess lives in Boston, but was unemployed at the time, and when we started co-writing stories together, she started living on West Coast time. Eventually, we started talking on the phone. (Both of us can be talkers, especially if we start going on about our stories.) And in 2005, Jess made a trip out west to visit me and her siblings.
• I went to Social Media Breakfast on Tuesday to see Kira Wampler from Ant’s Eye View/Intuit speak. Here were a couple the tips I tweeted:
Find the sexy about your business, which may not be your product itself.
Don’t stop at just listening to your customers. Do something too.
Employees needs guard rails for rules of online engagement. Want to do right by the company.
• Runaways Movie Casting Breakdown Racebending brings a summary of the casting for the Runaways movie, and the actor requirements don’t even mention the character being Japanese-America. Instead she’s “Uniquely beautiful, nurturing but guarded.” Worth noting that most casting breakdowns are horribly stereotypical, even if the end result of a film is not. However, after the complete whitewashing of The Last Airbender…