21-27
Things that made me happy last Saturday: Oh, so many. Last Saturday was basically unbridled awesome, aside from the street harassment and the creepy taxi driver.
- Picked up green walnuts from the farmers market and made nocino.
- Went to the Alemany Farmers Market with W and went to Rainbow afterward, and sniffed many, many jars of herbs and spices to see what we could use for pickling. It was so much fun to throw around ideas for spice combinations.
- Many hours of pickling and experimenting with food!
L to R: Pickled jalapenos, pickled jalapenos and carrots, pickled watermelon daikon, pickled strawberries.
Things that made me happy on Sunday:
- Went to the Renegade Craft Fair (Apt Therapy) with S. So much cute and interesting stuff there, from pillows to stuffed organs to shirts to hilarious birthday cards. Lots of vintage and repurposed items. There was a stand with vinyl belts that I really liked.
- At the craft there, there was a tshirt of one of the loading cranes from Oakland’s port with a thought bubble coming out of its head and a picture of an AT-AT
- Came up with an awesome way to pack wine glasses: pad them in bras! The goblet’s bowl fits perfectly in a bra cup, and it’s cheaper than shelling out for special cardboard dividers.
Wine glasses, filled with socks and trapped in tshirts and bras!
Things that made me happy on Monday:
- Novembersnow was in town for Azkatraz, and we met up for dinner and popped down to the Mission for drinks (if only we could have Apparated! That would have been even better!). November is awesome and lovely and it was fantastic meeting her after all these years – I think we first met online back in 2002 or 2003. We talked about DanRad (who is awesome) in Equus and in HP6, Tom Felton and how awesome and leggy he looked in his black suit in HP6 (and that briefcase!), NY, living in cities, public transit, online friendships, and explaining online friends to people who are suspicious of people who make friends online (e.g. our parents), and in all, had a fantastic time.
Things that made me happy on Tuesday:
- Squared away everything related to the move: movers, permits, lease, keys. A load off of my mind.
- Called my dad and had a nice conversation with him about rock climbing, the dogs, etc.
- Baked a blueberry tart for the +1.
- Did laundry – clean sheets, warm towels straight from the dryer, clean underwear and socks, the works. My last time doing laundry at my current apartment!
Things that made me happy on Wednesday:
- I’ve been sick with a cold since Monday. On Wednesday, I beat the headache and wooziness into submission with ibuprofen. Ibuprofen is amazing! I didn’t know it worked on that kind of headache! It was great being able to walk, sit down, stand up, and turn my head without feeling like I was going to fall over.
- TOS Kirk/Spock vid to “Hot and Cold”. The song is inane (“you change your mind / like a girl changes clothes”? In my world, Katy Perry, girls AND boys change their clothes, and girls AND boys can be indecisive about what they want to wear.) but the vid is hilarious! “You’re hot” (Kirk and Spock stare deep into each other’s eyes) “and you’re cold” (cut to Kirk making out with a lady while Spock looks distraught).
- Rereading old Minimalist “101 Simple Meals” columns: … for a picnic, … for a hot summer day. I read the latter article back when I was working in Boston, and had a printout of the copy marked up with the things I wanted to try.
- :) :) :) The +1 came back. :) :) :)
- Office Depot was selling packs of 10 boxes for $14.99, and the packs were buy 2, get 1 free! I could have gotten 30 boxes! 30! for $30! I only got 10 boxes, since that’s (hopefully) more than enough to cover everything I have left to pack, but I would have had 30 boxes! And 10 boxes! That’s quite a lot.
- Slept from 9 P.M. to 7:30 the next morning. Fell asleep after cuddling, woke up around midnight, and went back to sleep. I think I ran a fever, but woke up the next morning feeling that I’d gotten through the worst of this cold.
Things that made me happy yesterday:
- Waking up with the +1. Why, hello there, sweetie!
- Come to think of it, it hasn’t taken any time to readjust to sleeping with someone again. This is nice, because when we first started spending the night together, I had a hard time sleeping through the night.
- WHEN HE WAS IN TIKAL DURING HIS VACATION, HE AND HIS FRIEND REENACTED THE SEQUENCE FROM STAR WARS IV WHERE A REBEL SCOUT LOOKS OUT OVER THE TREES OF YAVIN 4 AND MADE A VIDEO OF IT FOR ME!!!!!!!
- Made strawberry syrup to go over ice cream: macerate strawberries with sugar, then heat butter and sugar in a saucepan. Slice up the strawberries and add them and their juices to the pan, along with kirsch (optional) and a pinch of salt. Stir over medium heat to keep it from sticking to the pan and burning, and mash it up until it’s as thick as you want it to be and has turned a deep red. Toss in a pinch of curry powder and cook a little longer. Pour over ice cream.
- Skipped a concert (tickets were comp’d, anyway) to spend time with the +1. In all, it was the better choice.
Things that made me happy today:
- Take a Chance On Me TOS K/S vid (via bentseng. 3 great things: ABBA, Spock, and Kirk/Spock. The clip ends with the backrub that launched the ship to end all ships!
- I ate an Altoid, and it cleared up my stuffy, runny nose. Curiously Strong Mints indeed!
Harassment Log #1
Trigger warning: street harassment.
Following the advice of Atul Gawande, I am going to count something. Specifically, the number of times someone harasses me. Why? Because it interests me. After a while, the hollering, the objectification, and the slurs blend into a cloud of background noise, and I don’t like that. I want to know exactly how many times it happens, so I can know exactly what the price is for wanting to go about my life while female.
May 2009: (1 Mission) Too long ago to remember; the one that stands out most vividly for the creepiness and the fear I felt is one incident on a Saturday night, when I was walking to meet some friends at a club and a man walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction passed me, turned around, and followed me for half the block until I reached a busier street.
May 24, 2009: 2 Homophobic & racist slurs. (2 Mission)
July 17, 2009: 4 (2 Mission, 1 Embarcadero, 1 cab)
- 1 “Hey gorgeous” comment yelled at me on the way to BART. (Mission)
- 1 “Hey young lady” comment yelled at me on the way to BART. (Mission)
- 1 “You look nice” comment muttered in my face as the man brushed past me on the way to BART. (Embarcadero)
- Hit on by creepy taxi driver at 1 A.M., who missed the turns for my street, which freaked me out (see here for why. Trigger warning for the link.). After that, I had him drop me off at a bar rather than my apartment building.
I am not going to get into why “Hey, gorgeous!” is not a flattering compliment and is still, in fact, harassment. I am not going to argue with you about how the men yelling, “Hey, young ladies!” at my friends and me are innocently saying hi. Honestly, I don’t have the patience to put up with that bullshit, so if you need those 101 lessons:
(1) Read this.
(2) Read this.
(3) Ask yourself how many times those comments are yelled at women and girls vs. how many times they’re yelled at men and boys. The disparity suggests that there are certain bodies that are considered available for public consumption, judging, and commenting, and certain bodies that are not.
For more on my experiences with street harassment: tag.
Stop Street Harassment’s blog.
*ahem*
Bentseng is not merely an acquaintance, but a capital-f Friend.
He remains, however, a dork. :D
Food For Thought
Yesterday, I read Keori’s post on being in a same-sex relationship with an active, closeted servicemember, The other victims of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell: the “Silent Partners”. Excerpt:
I’m not only a gay veteran. I’m the partner of an active duty servicemember. “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” isn’t just a closet for people like me. It’s a prison cell. It sucks everyone in and slams the bars behind them, shackles us all in manacles attached to the floor. Then an American flag is hung on the wall to cover up the door and muffle the cries coming from inside so the people serving openly won’t be disturbed by us. …
DADT is to me what a lack of UAFA [Uniting American Families Act] is to a binational couple. It means that officially, I do not exist to my Beloved. It means little things, seemingly trivial parts of the closet we are all familiar with. When her fellow troops chat about what they did over the weekend with their spouses and children, she “hung out with friends.” When her command has picnics or other “family days,” she goes alone or not at all. When she receives an award or is promoted, I am not there to smile, take pictures, or pin on her new rank, like other wives are. …
Soon my Beloved will be sent away overseas, to a place I cannot follow her. We will be ripped apart for at least two years. Unlike opposite-sex spouses, I cannot receive command sponsorship to live with her on base. The military will not allow her to keep her family with her when posted overseas. She will not receive separation allowance as compensation for being taken away from her mate. If something happens to her, I will not know unless her family calls me. If something happens to me, she will not be told, or be allowed to come home to be with me, as a spouse would. She will not even be allowed to acknowledge her pain lest it give her away to her chain of command. …
This is our life. It is a unique, bittersweet hell of contradiction.
Today, Senator Barbara Boxer (D-CA) sent out an email asking her constituents to express support for her three amendments to the defense authorization bill:
Dear [PD],
As Americans, we are so lucky to live in a free country, defended by the brave men and women of our armed forces. We owe them our gratitude, respect, and support for sacrificing so much for us.
That’s why I’ve just introduced new legislation in the Senate that will ease the burden on our military families. My three amendments are being considered, right now, during this week’s debate on the defense authorization bill — and I need your help. …
- Give families with two parents on active duty the option to stagger their overseas combat deployments — so one parent can stay home as the primary caregiver for their children. In addition, after one parent returns, provide a 90-day re-integration period before the other parent is deployed. This amendment is supported by the National Military Family Association.
- Reimburse military families who have to travel more than 50 miles from home in order to receive medical care — down from the current 100-mile requirement. This amendment is supported by the Military Coalition.
- Provide flexible spending accounts for all uniformed service personnel — so military families receive tax breaks for spending on medical expenses and child care. This amendment is supported by the VFW, National Military Family Association, Military Officers Association of America, and other organizations.
These amendments are the right thing to do for our servicemembers and their families. They do so much to protect us — now it’s time for us to stand up for them.
Military servicemembers and their families make sacrifices in service to the country, there’s no doubt about that. What’s striking is that Keori’s post aligns nearly point for point with Boxer’s amendments in the details of the sacrifices that she and all the other silent partners must make for a military that shuns their open service. The sacrifices are the same but her suffering for them is greater, because they are unacknowledged and she receives no accommodation from her country, no public support from her senators.
Contact your senators and representatives and ask them to support the Military Readiness Enhancement Act (H.R. 1283), the bill to repeal DADT. H.R. 1283 is currently referred to the Subcommittee on Military Personnel. The Servicemembers Legal Defense Network has links for finding your elected officials, and Thomas has a list of H.R. 1283’s current cosponsors. If your representative is a cosponsor, thank her or him for supporting the repeal of DADT. If your representative is not, please urge her or him to support all of our troops and their family members–not just the straight ones.
18-20
MILD SPOILERS FOR THE STAR TREK MOVIE. Things that made me happy on Wednesday:
- I did laundry! Clean, warm bedsheets are a sensual delight.
- I’M ON A SHIP! (autoplay music) I ran across it again for the first time in a while, and it’s every bit as hilarious and awesome as it was the first time I saw it. It’s a picspam Star Trek reboot parody of “I’m On A Boat.” My favorite bits:
I’M ON A SHIP!
I’M ON A SHIP MOTHERFUCKER TAKE A LOOKY HERE
STRAIGHT FLYIN THRU SPACE THE FINAL FRONTIERFUCK CANON, THIS IS ALTERNATE REALITY MOTHERFUCKER — I almost died at the line “An alternate reality” in the movie. The sound you heard was the exploding heads of thousands of fan geeks.
WELL THIS AIN’T STAR WARS, THIS IS AS TREK AS IT GETS — OMGDEDOFAWESOME
I’M ON A SHIP!
Things that made me happy on Thursday:
- W came over for dinner, which is always fun, and I made pattypan squash risotto. Pattypan squash are a revelation! I’ve never liked zucchini or anything in their family, but the whimsical flying saucer shape and the bright green and yellow coloring got me to give the pattypan a go, and they are delicious! I roasted them and folded them into the risotto, and they practically melted in my mouth.
Things that made me happy today:
- David Lebovitz posted a recipe for nocino earlier this week, and I called Alfieri farms, a local nut farm, yesterday on the off chance that green walnuts were still in season. They called back this morning while I was on my way to work and said that green walnuts were indeed in season, and they would pick some for me to pick up at the farmers market tomorrow. Score for (1) getting to know your vendors; (2) awesome farmers; (3) nocino. W and I are going to go on a Little House On the Prairie-style DIY homebrew/pickling spree tomorrow, except with more booze and jalapenos than LHOTP.
- Getting my rant on for the first time in a while.
- I’ve been struggling to manage my finances for the past few months, and have finally started getting better at it. It’s not a lot of fun, but the self-discipline it requires is good for me. I’ve brought lunch to work every day this month and it’s been two weeks since I last ate out! A small but meaningful milestone.
- The countdown until the +1 returns is under the one-week mark now. Only five days!
Shorter Peter Singer: Being Disabled Sucks, Or, How To Wallow In Ablism
An acquaintance of mine shared a post that linked to Peter Singer’s latest piece in the NYT Magazine, “Why We Must Ration Healthcare.” Most of the article focuses on the fact that health care is currently rationed in the U.S., whether by price or by less tangible factors such as ER wait times. I don’t disagree with that part; that’s nothing more than a clear-eyed look at the reality that the American health care system has barriers to accessibility. Where Singer goes off the rails for a demonstration of Able-Bodied Privilege 101, however, is when he discusses how to put a value on human lives as a precursor to putting a value on health care. In order to demonstrate the utility of quality-adjusted life-year (QALY) in rationing health care, he uses the example of how an able-bodied person reacts to a hypothetical situation in which they become quadraplegic, and how their desire to live changes. He then goes on to present a situation in which persons with disabilities (PWD) are damned if they do and damned if they don’t: he suggests that if a PWD is happy with their life, they don’t need any treatment that would improve their lives, and if a PWD is not happy with their life, then it would be wasteful to spend money on treatment that would improve their lives. In Singer’s QALY model, he assumes that being able-bodied is the norm and any disability is a negative deviation that makes the lives of disabled people inherently worth less than the lives of able-bodied people.
Health care does more than save lives: it also reduces pain and suffering. How can we compare saving a person’s life with, say, making it possible for someone who was confined to bed to return to an active life? … One common method is to describe medical conditions to people — let’s say being a quadriplegic — and tell them that they can choose between 10 years in that condition or some smaller number of years without it. If most would prefer, say, 10 years as a quadriplegic to 4 years of nondisabled life, but would choose 6 years of nondisabled life over 10 with quadriplegia, but have difficulty deciding between 5 years of nondisabled life or 10 years with quadriplegia, then they are, in effect, assessing life with quadriplegia as half as good as nondisabled life. (These are hypothetical figures, chosen to keep the math simple, and not based on any actual surveys.) If that judgment represents a rough average across the population, we might conclude that restoring to nondisabled life two people who would otherwise be quadriplegics is equivalent in value to saving the life of one person, provided the life expectancies of all involved are similar.
This is the basis of the quality-adjusted life-year, or QALY, a unit designed to enable us to compare the benefits achieved by different forms of health care. The QALY has been used by economists working in health care for more than 30 years to compare the cost-effectiveness of a wide variety of medical procedures and, in some countries, as part of the process of deciding which medical treatments will be paid for with public money. If a reformed U.S. health care system explicitly accepted rationing, as I have argued it should, QALYs could play a similar role in the U.S. [All emphases in the piece are mine.]
In this scenario, Singer assumes that being able-bodied is the norm. He assumes that able-bodied people are neutral arbiters of the value of life as a disabled person, which ignores the reality that in an ablist society, we are steeped in ablism from the minute we’re born. After a lifetime of living in a society that considers being able-bodied to be normal and best and looks upon any form of disability, whether physical or mental, congenital or not, visible or invisible, as a negative deviation that makes a person with disabilities a lesser human being than an able-bodied person, an able-bodied person can in no wise be an objective judge–or at least no more objective than a person with disabilities. Singer later makes the assumption that PWD are self-interested when it comes to evaluating whether or not the health care system should devote resources to PWD; their bias presumably makes them bad judges. This assumption of bias, however, draws a veil over the fact that able-bodied people also have a bias: Singer outlines a system where there is a limited amount of health care, which can be devoted either to PWD or to able-bodied people. In this situation, able-bodied people are equally as self-interested as PWD. As able-bodied people, they have a vested interest in the allocation of health care, and so, when they decide that it’s only logical and reasonable to devote health care resources to the treatment of able-bodied people, they are not neutral, objective arbiters. After positioning able-bodied people as the best judges of the worth of the lives of people with disabilities, Singer further normativizes the the idea of able-bodied person as objective judge by demanding that PWD prove that their lives are worth living.
Some will object that this discriminates against people with disabilities. If we return to the hypothetical assumption that a year with quadriplegia is valued at only half as much as a year without it, then a treatment that extends the lives of people without disabilities will be seen as providing twice the value of one that extends, for a similar period, the lives of quadriplegics. That clashes with the idea that all human lives are of equal value. The problem, however, does not lie with the concept of the quality-adjusted life-year, but with the judgment that, if faced with 10 years as a quadriplegic, one would prefer a shorter lifespan without a disability. Disability advocates might argue that such judgments, made by people without disabilities, merely reflect the ignorance and prejudice of people without disabilities when they think about people with disabilities. We should, they will very reasonably say, ask quadriplegics themselves to evaluate life with quadriplegia. If we do that, and we find that quadriplegics would not give up even one year of life as a quadriplegic in order to have their disability cured, then the QALY method does not justify giving preference to procedures that extend the lives of people without disabilities over procedures that extend the lives of people with disabilities.
This method of preserving our belief that everyone has an equal right to life is, however, a double-edged sword. If life with quadriplegia is as good as life without it, there is no health benefit to be gained by curing it. That implication, no doubt, would have been vigorously rejected by someone like Christopher Reeve, who, after being paralyzed in an accident, campaigned for more research into ways of overcoming spinal-cord injuries. Disability advocates, it seems, are forced to choose between insisting that extending their lives is just as important as extending the lives of people without disabilities, and seeking public support for research into a cure for their condition.
In this section of the article, the entire discussion of applying QALY to valuing disabled vs. able-bodied lives is nothing less than sheer sophism and poor logic, as the choice that Singer suggests between extending the lives of quadriplegic people and researching a cure for quadriplegia is a false one. Singer is essentially demanding that people with disabilities prove that their lives are worth living. The question is, prove it to whom? To Singer? To an objective judge? That assumes once again that PWD cannot be objective judges of their situations, making normative the idea of able-bodied person as objective and hiding the reality that able-bodied people also have a vested interest in the allocation of health care resources.
Furthermore, Singer’s doing a bait and switch. The premise of his argument is that a PWD has to prove that their life is worth living. If a PWD satisfactorily sucks up to the able-bodied masses and proves that life is worth living, even life as a PWD, then that means that their life is fine and so there’s no need to focus on research that would improve their quality of life (“If life with quadriplegia is as good as life without it, there is no health benefit to be gained by curing it.”). However, if a PWD admits that they require aid to get through the day, whether in the form of anti-depressants, therapists, or crutches, then that means that the life of a PWD is worse than the life of an able-bodied person, and so it would be wasteful and inefficient for society to spend money on research that would improve their quality of life. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. The argument is designed to be a no-win scenario that perpetuates and justifies discrimination against PWD.
In reality, the situation is not an either-or choice. It’s possible to spend money and resources both on extending the lives of PWD and on researching ways to improve their quality of life. It’s also extraordinarily stupid to suggest that if a PWD enjoys living, then they’re satisfied with their lives and would be averse to improving it. Human beings, whether disabled or able-bodied, generally seek to improve their lives. The constant search for something more, something better drives our lives, and even the happiest person in the world, if given an opportunity to be even happier, would likely take it. Demanding that PWD be satisfied with their lives as-is and never allowing them to seek improvements seeks to articificially keep PWD behind.
The question of how to make health care both accessible and affordable is difficult, and Singer is correct in that it’s necessary to address the question of how to distribute health care resources. However, his QALY model discards people with disabilities from the start and ensures a system where their opinions are never as valid as those of able-bodied people. It is a system that perpetuates the ablist prejudices already pervasive in our society. In his next piece, perhaps he should actually talk with people with disabilities, both congenital and, for lack of a better word, acquired, rather than hypothesizing about how he, as an able-bodied man, thinks that PWD would think.
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NOTE: I am able-bodied and am trying to work through the social conditioning and able-bodied privilege. Feel free to tell me when I mess up.
Further reading: posts that I’ve found informative and broadening. Reading the words of PWD talking about their own experiences is different from reading about able-bodied people speaking about and for PWD.
amandaw’s writing about disability and able-bodied privilege particularly her guest posts at Feministe. Her posts on Things That Make My Life Easier (Shower Chair, Symphony Pillow, Heat, Cute Pill Case, TENS) particularly came to mind when I read Singer’s implicit demand that PWD prove that their lives are worth living–and then seek no further improvements in their quality of life. These are things that make amandaw’s life easier and enable her to improve her quality of life and do more, but Singer’s argument would deny her both the medical devices (e.g. the TENS) and the expanded opportunities that they allow her.
Pocochina’s posts on living with Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome (DSPS). It occurs to me that both amandaw’s and Pocochina’s disabilities don’t precisely fit into the most common image of disability, which is mobility (e.g. the disability signifiers wheel chairs, ramps). Typically, it’s also the image that Singer uses, that of an able-bodied person who becomes disabled. I wonder what that means?
The posts on disability at Hoyden About Town. Lauredhel’s “Can I Have A Seat?” was also at the back of my mind when thinking about how Singer assumes that a need for accommodation automatically makes a PWD worth less than an able-bodied person.
Astraea’s post for Blog Against Disablism Day is about being neuroatypical and the positioning of neurotypical as the norm that everyone needs to adhere to.
Diary of a Goldfish hosted Blogging Against Disablism Day 2009 and has the links collected.
11-17
Things that made me happy on Wednesday:
- Dropped off my security deposit for my apartment. The final walk through, lease, and move in remain, but the place is mine! Cue a huge sigh of relief from me.
- Grocery shopping: Wednesday is 20% off coupon day at Rainbow, and I love going there and buying things in bulk. There’s something satisfying about getting just as many bay leaves as you need and hauling your own flour bin to the store to fill it up. I like looking at the shelves upon shelves of herbs and spices, which you can open up and sniff to check their freshness. It’s environmentally friendly, too, because buying things in bulk cuts down on product packaging.
Things that made me happy on Thursday:
- Fried chicken competition at Omnivore Books on Food in Noe Valley. Reasons it was awesome: 1. Hung out with Sophia for probably the first time in a month. 2. Fried chicken! 3. I love browsing at Omnivore, which features “new, antiquarian, and collectible books on food and drink.”
The winner of the fried chicken competition was skinless, boneless chicken breast cut into tenders, dredged in flour (and probably buttermilk), and deep fried in duck fat with sprigs of rosemary. None of the other entries were great, but it was fun trying them all and hanging out with a bunch of people in a cute neighborhood shop on a sunny afternoon.
I’ve had fried chicken on my mind for the last few months, after having it at Maverick and Foreign Cinema (Maverick is good but FC’s is hands down the best I’ve ever had). For Pride, I made fried chicken according to Ruth Reichl’s recipe in Tender at the Bone, which calls for soaking the chicken in buttermilk with sliced onions overnight. It was fine but not to my taste; I’m enamored of FC’s chicken and I think that they brine the chicken with various curry herbs and put curry powder in the batter. There are so many variables to consider in making the perfect fried chicken: dredge in flour or bread crumbs? Buttermilk or eggs? Alas, meat is expensive and deep frying takes a lot of effort and creates a mess. On the plus side, brining can hide many sins in meat quality, so I could skip the free range chicken and go for something cheaper if I ever get around to experimenting with fried chicken.
Things that made me happy on Friday:
- Took the train to my parents’ house and went to dinner with them and my sibling, who recently returned from a trip overseas.
- The +1 called. It was nice to hear his voice, which is distinctive. Everyone’s voice is unique, but his caught my ear from the very beginning. Its timbre is interesting, a little rough and gravelly at a higher pitch than usual for gravelly voices.
- Saw the dogs!
Things that made me happy on Saturday:
- Had a big party at my parents’ house, and saw some old friends there. Great food, too.
Things that made me happy on Sunday:
- Went to Sophia’s birthday party and caught up with some old acquaintances and met new ones. Learned about the FDA’s risk assessment requirements for drugs and medical devices, which was quite interesting.
Things that made me happy yesterday:
- Picked up my black loafers from the cobblers. I love these loafers and had worn them so much that the insoles were destroyed, the soles were worn flat, and there was a tiny hole in the leather. The cobbler fixed all of that and now I can traipse around SF in comfort! At the rate of 1 repair/year, they’ll be good for another 6 years before the cost of repairs matches the original cost of the shoes. Hopefully, they’ll last that long.
- Hark! A Vagrant: Dude Watchin’ With the Brontes reminds me of an old post of sarahtales‘:
This book reminded me of a dreadful TV show about Romantic Heroes, in which the opinion was expressed that every woman wanted to marry Heathcliff, Mr Rochester or Mr Darcy.
I took offence, both for myself and for my beloved Mr Darcy. I mean, can you imagine them all in a room together?
TV PRESENTER: Boys, would you like to talk about your interest and hobbies?
ROCHESTER: Well, there’s the compulsive lying. And then there’s the cross-dressing. [Er, there's nothing wrong with cross-dressing.]
HEATHCLIFF: I enjoy long romantic walks on the moors-
TV PRESENTER: Oh, that’s nice!
HEATHCLIFF: And then I like to round off the day by hanging a puppy.
DARCY: …
TV PRESENTER: So, do any of you have a special lady?
ROCHESTER: Well, I may have gotten the syph from my score of mistresses. And I have this illegitimate kid. And I do have a wife, but she’s crazy and in the care of a drunk, so that won’t stick.
HEATHCLIFF: Oh snap, I have a wife too! I beat her.
DARCY: I am as yet unmarried, madam.
TV PRESENTER: Thank God for that… So, uh, what would you consider your greatest, uh, fault?
ROCHESTER: Some narrow-minded fools frown on tricking defenceless girls into bigamy.
HEATHCLIFF: So I practise incestuous necrophilia. Don’t be a hater.
DARCY: Sometimes I’m a little judgemental. And aloof at parties.
TV PRESENTER: *hides behind Mr Darcy*Not that Heathcliff and Rochester aren’t fabulous characters. But there are cases in which ‘Watch out, ladies, this one can’t be tamed!’ should contain the explanatory note: ‘Because this one’s rabid.’
Things that made me happy today:
- I put down the window shades last night, so I was able to sleep without being baked and blinded by the sun this morning. (I live in the Mission. The sun is so strong here that it’s hard to see in the morning when the light comes in straight through my many windows, and my plants need to be watered every other day or they shrivel up.)
- Making a pasta al forno tonight with fresh mozzarella!
- Salsa class tonight! Dancing is fun and I always feel better after class.
Street Harassment
Some good links lately: Walking As Rebellion, by Kate (via Shakesville)
Catcalling is for Creepers, by blogofchampions.
Any discussion of street harassment usually derails into one of these threads:
- What About Teh Menz!: Some man will pipe up and say, “But I like giving women compliments, and it’s totally innocent! I just want to tell her she looks nice! Does that make me a bad guy?”
No, it doesn’t make you a bad guy, but it does make you fucking obnoxious. It is indeed obnoxious to barge into a discussion where women talk about being cursed at, objectified, and harassed, and change the topic to your precious feelings and your right to engage in behaviors that, regardless of their intention, are perceived as harassment. If you ever have the urge to ask this question in a discussion of street harassment, I suggest you shut your mouth, listen to actual victims of street harassment, and let them say their piece about the real anger, intimidation, and threats they’ve been subjected to before trying to change the focus of the conversation to yourself and what you want. I also suggest that you listen to the message that these women do not like being sexually objectified or having their bodies commented on, and shut up. You will not suffer agonizing pain because you didn’t tell that hot Chinese-looking chick that she looks soooo pretty. She, on the other hand, will appreciate not being subjected to, “So, I only wanted to talk to you because you’re really pretty,” “Hey, gorgeous, are you Chinese?” “I like your hair, it looks really…exotic,” for the nth time.
Also, nine times out of ten, the comment that you perceive as innocent and flattering? It probably isn’t. If you really think that you just have an aesthetic appreciating for my skirt, it’ll be a lot more believable if you say something about the cut or color or construction or something about the skirt. That’ll make me inclined to believe that you’re actually interested in the skirt qua skirt and not trying to chat me up. It’ll be a lot less convincing if you say a generic, “I like your skirt,” while staring at my legs, ass, or chest.
- Women Are Soooo Fickle, Oh, And, They Lie: Someone, usually claiming to be a woman (and hey, there are enough sexist women out there that I’m inclined to believe them) will say that women are fickle, shrill, whining, shrewish bitches who just can’t be satisfied. Either they get yelled at on the street and they complain about that, or they don’t get yelled at and they complain about that.
The “logic” behind this “argument” is that deep down, women secretly enjoy street harassment. They all feel that their self-esteem and body image depend on how many times a man follows them down the street at night; how many times a man leers and says, “Suck my cock, bitch”; or how many times a man stares at them while they walk down the street and says, “Mmm, gorgeous,” like he’s commenting on a steer at auction. Do I need to explicate why this “argument” is ridiculous, particularly when it’s made in response to a post about how street harassment is damaging, infuriating, and not in the least bit enjoyable?
Usually, these commenters reveal themselves to be (a) projecting like mad. They start with high-faluting comments about how they never get street harassed, but if they did, they wouldn’t mind, they’d appreciate a good, old-fashioned “suck my cock, bitch!” like the honest, unthreatening compliment that it is. See, they’re not like those other women who complain about not being catcalled enough, they … just aren’t catcalled but would totally enjoy it if they were! Right, then. They also reveal themselves to be (b) sexists who think that while they are Special Snowflakes, every other woman in the world is a bitch. These folks usually think that if only they cooperate with the patriarchy enough, they’ll come out on top. This whole line of thought that women actually like street harassment is dangerous in that it relies on the notion that women need, depend on, and should be grateful for any form of male attention that they can get. It’s reminiscent of the idea that ugly rape victims should be grateful that someone raped them, because hey, at least they got to “have sex,” and god only knows no one would touch them otherwise. In other words, it tries to legitimate street harassment after the fact by saying that the victims must have secretly wanted it.
- If You Just Ignore It, They’ll Stop, Or, Don’t Respond, You’re Just Giving Them The Attention They Want: Someone will always chime in saying that the best response to street harassment is to do nothing. That way, you’re not feeding into their desire to provoke a reaction. That way, they’ll see that you’re not bothered by them and so they’ll leave you alone.
Anyone else having flashbacks to elementary school playgrounds? Yeah, when was the last time that you ignored a playground bully and it made them leave you alone? If I recall correctly, ignoring them made them escalate their tactics, because they knew that they could do so without facing any consequences. Their victims weren’t going to stand up to them and so the teachers probably weren’t going to do anything, either, since the victim hadn’t called on them to intervene.
Street harassment works similarly. Sure, the harasser might be aiming to provoke a reaction, but giving them the cold shoulder isn’t going to work, either. Cat callers revel in what they perceive as their power to publicly harass women without suffering any consequences, and the only solution that I can see to that is to disabuse them of the notion that they can get away with it scot-free. Sure, they might want a reaction, particularly if they’re trying to look masculine in front of their male peers, but being called on their bullshit is not the reaction they want or expect. Bullies like power. They like taunting their victims. They thrive off humiliating people they perceive to be weaker than they are, and rejection or confrontation will often stop them in their tracks.
A few years ago, I was walking out of a store, and noticed a man about half a block away. I was headed in the opposite direction, and from behind me, I heard, “Hey, gorgeous.” I ignored it. He then yelled, “Hey, gorgeous,” again. He then yelled, “Hey, bitch, I gave you a compliment.” I ignored that, too. Getting louder and louder, he then yelled, “Bitch, you think you’re too good for me? Ain’t you gonna thank me?” I ignored that, too. Finally, he screamed, “Fuck you, bitch!”
That is typical of my experiences with ignoring cat callers. They don’t stop if you ignore them. They just up the ante and barrage you with more and more harassment.
It’s one thing for victims to not want to confront street harassers: women are taught to avoid confrontation and to endure abuse, and oftentimes it feels unsafe to confront the person harassing you. It’s another thing, however, for people to tell victims that street harassment will stop if they just ignore it. It has the curious quality of (a) being wrong; (b) perpetuating a system where men can continue to harass women to their hearts’ content. Convenient, isn’t it?
10
Things that made me happy yesterday:
- W came over for dinner. We finished up the sweet potato agnolotti I made in February, when I was still living at my old apartment. I made the sage creme fraiche sauce with sage from my sage plant! Using fresh herbs that I’ve grown myself makes me happy — I feel more connected to the food somehow.
For dessert, I made shortbread, heated some blueberries, and served them with lemon pastry cream on the side. Throwing together plated desserts on a whim and with ease makes me happy, too — reading Demolition Desserts at the gym must be paying off!
Things that made me happy today:
-
An upside down picture of a cow, hills, and cloud-studded sky, with the text, "We married fudge, ice cream & brownies. Don't worry, it's legal in Vermont."
A Ben & Jerry’s ad in the BART station. It’s cheeky and funny and the bright colors and rounded, bouncy graphics lift my mood. I’m not much for ice cream, (more interested in making it than in eating it) but if I were, the amusement factor would get me to buy B&J.
I miss the +1. If all goes well, I’ll sign a lease at a new apartment tomorrow and set a firm move in date close to the end of the month. For the time being, though, I feel like I’m in limbo, waiting to move, waiting for the +1 to come home. My days are full and my planner has something penciled into it every day from last Friday to next Sunday, and still, I miss him.
6-9
Things that made me happy on Friday:
- AP was in town! We went for happy hour drinks at Cigar Bar and then went to dinner at La Mei Zi. Sadly, I was dizzy and sick; threw up at the bar; bailed in the middle of dinner; and upon arriving home, promptly ran for the bathroom and threw up everything I’d eaten that day. I am nothing if not thorough. However, when AP came to pick up her stuff from my apartment, she brought me leftovers of the fish from dinner! That was sweet of her.
- Having the day off and sleeping in until 10:30 A.M.
Things that made me happy on Saturday:
- Saw an absolutely gorgeous apartment in the morning. It literally took my breath away when I walked in!
- Got a gallon-sized ziplock of blueberries at the farmers market for $10! Having spent May making a succession of rhubarb tarts, I wanted to branch out into other summer fruit baking:
PD: How many cartons would I need for a pie? [little cartons are $2/ea]
Blueberry Seller: 6-7
PD: O_o
Blueberry Seller: {hauls out gallon-size ziplock of blueberries} Or, this is $10! You could probably make two pies with it.
PD: I’ll take it!The ziplock was full of reject blueberries: the overripe, the underripe, the squashed, the bestemmed. I wouldn’t use them for a dessert in which their natural flavor is the star, but they’re fine for boiling with sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest, and putting into a tart.
- Went to a barbecue with some old high school acquaintances. It was fun seeing them again and it was nice to know that I could hang out with people I didn’t know well without being awkward. We had views of fireworks all over the East Bay.
- The +1 called from Guatemala. I missed the call, but he left a message, and it was nice to hear his voice.
- Sibling came home from vacation. Picked him up from the airport (where ‘picked up’ means ‘BARTed to SFO’ and ‘cabbed home’), fed him, and heard all about his adventures in Germany.
Things that made me happy on Sunday:
- Sibling finished off the batch of dumplings I made in April. I was afraid they’d linger in my freezer forever! Now, I have room in the freezer for the chicken and beef stock I made this weekend.
- Made the lemon cream from the Tartine cookbook, and filled a blueberry tart with it.
- Went to another barbecue at Sahiya’s neighbors’ place, and had fun relaxing and hanging out with them. The white barbecues I’ve been to are very different from my parents’ barbecues, in terms of the food.
- Made basmati rice according to the recipe in Madhur Jaffrey’s book on Indian cooking, and it turned out well! It’s the first time I’ve made palatable basmati rice.
Things that made me happy today:
- After debating between two apartments for the entire weekend, I went to sign the lease on the first one I’d seen and liked, only to find out that I preferred the apartment I’d seen on Saturday. This is a happy item, though–I made up my mind to take the Saturday apartment, and I’m dropping off an application tomorrow. Cross your fingers for me! The place is simply gorgeous and literally took my breath away when I saw it. I can’t believe it’s still on the market, let alone for what the landlord’s asking for it.
- Woke up early this morning to cook lentils for lunch. They were tasty, if not mouth-wateringly delicious, and it’s enough to be going on with. I want to replicate the awesome lentil curry that Shalimar serves, which I would happily eat for lunch for a week straight.
Home-Made Beverages
For all y’all beer/liquor/home cooking/vintage cookbook enthusiasts out there, here’s a PDF of Home-Made Beverages, an anonymous book by A Practical Brewer, published in 1919. It has recipes for beer, cordial, liqueur, and many alcoholic liquids. The PDF I’ve uploaded is a scan of a copy of a faded booklet from 1919, so while it’s legible, it’s less than crisp and clear. Right-click, save as, and wait for it to finish downloading– the file is 137 MB.
4-5
Things that made me happy yesterday:
- I gave notice at my current abode. When I got off the phone with the roommate whose name is actually on the lease, I felt free and light, as if I could fly. For reasons why I am feeling this way, see here
- I saw an apartment that I liked a great deal and not 15 minutes after I’d filled out an application and left, the landlord called and said that I could have the place. Cue some dithering about whether I really did like the place, whether Alamo Square would be a better place to live than Nob Hill, how much not having laundry in the building really mattered, etc. But in the main, I was excited. The kitchen’s adorable, all my furniture can fit in the apartment comfortably (minus the bed frame, which I want to dispose of anyway)
- Walking from an open house in Hayes Valley to an open house in Alamo Square, I saw this sign:
A street sign for Friendship Ct.
- The wonders of modern technology: the +1 called me using the Skype app on his iTouch, which was picking up a wireless signal from the bus he was riding to the airport. When I answered the Skype call, I found out that my laptop had a built-in microphone, and basically talked at my laptop while lying in bed. I remember when AIM first integrated voice chat, back in 2000 or 2001: LN and I were chatting over AIM, my laptop was plugged into a 56k dial up connection, and LN had to stick an actual microphone into her computer. I didn’t have a mike with the right size jack for my laptop, so she talked and I IMed back. I didn’t have a cell phone back then, and the reception at my house was terrible, too. We’ve come a long way since then!
Things that made me happy today:
- Realizing that I’m moving and that I’m done with apartment hunting. And I only had to see six places, too. SCORE.
- The +1 is flying back to SF in a few weeks, and I’ve been thinking about taking the afternoon off from work to meet him at the airport. Speaking as someone who’s flown a lot; is rarely met at the airport; and is usually a little envious of the happy reunions between family and friends at the arrivals terminal, I thought it would be nice to say, “Welcome back,” at SFO instead of giving him my new address and telling him to ring the buzzer when he gets there. AP is revolted by such schmoopy sentimentality, so I upped the ante:
PD: so i was thinking when [the +1] gets into SFO
PD: i should bring flowers, right?
PD: bc that’s what people do when they meet their significant other after time apart, right?
AP: I’m going to stop talking to you now,
AP: As I am eating with sandy
AP: And you are making me puke
PD: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA - Sleeping for eight hours and feeling rested when I woke up this morning.
- I got a new kind of granola for my morning yogurt, and it’s crunchy, nutty, and subtly honey-sweet.
