What's Goin' On

Bear with me, as I am resurfacing from the land of the dead...

Only to read via mousewords about a woman's "romantic" memoir about her discovery of self through sodomy: "You open your ass and you open your mind and you open your heart."

WTF?

Oh. She's from New York. I mean, what kind of person gets these sorts of questions about their book "Can you talk a bit about the connections you make in the book between being anally penetrated and finding God?"

I think that pretty much says all you need to know.

Apparently, she's really sure that her book will anger feminists - this is something that really gets her riled up. But you know, I don't think feminism is the issue, here, when she "keeps the condoms-and-K-Y detritus of their [she and her anal lover's] unions and a baggy-full of his pubic hair in a little memory box", probably on her dresser. This has less to do with feminism and more to do with being a wacky, malnurished nut-job. Are all ballerinas this neurotic? She needs to go out to eat more, and find some other hobbies. Sex is great. Fetishes are fun, and no doubt there are some men out there who keep used condoms from their male lovers in little boxes under their beds... or not. You need to get out once in a while, woman. Damn.

Speaking of sex, over at Utopian Hell and Hugo's place, there's some debate going on about how the sexuality of youth is being contained in the bodies of young women - that is, when we talk about curtailing "hook-ups" and other sorts of casual sex behavior, what everybody's argument turns back to is how to convince young girls to be ashamed about having sex whenever they want to - even if it's safe sex.

The assumption being, I suppose, that men have this really amazingly uncontrollable sexuality: whatever. It's interesting, however, that both Hugo and Astarte bring church lingo into the debate, and how the diffusion of church doctrine in our society has targeted young women. Nobody ever asks if a guy regrets having sex "too early" or "with the wrong partner." What really got me about this discussion was what Amanda pointed out: women are encouraged to have deeper feelings for those partners they have sex with, because if they don't have deeper feelings, they're "sluts." I know that's something I've always struggled with: Am I in a deeply loving, committed, monogamous relationship with this person? If the answer was no, I'd feel terribly guilty for getting involved at all, even if I, the Evil Woman, was just interested in something purely temporary.

I've often wondered how much of the cliche of "women always want to get emotionally involved and men don't" thing has to do with putting pressure on men to treat sex casually, and pressure on women to treat sex like one's only item of self-worth. Sure, having sex with someone you feel affection toward is what it's all about - but why does it have to be monogamous and looking-toward-the-longterm before women get to have "guilt free" sex?

Glad there are people moving past that.

Snapshots From My Domestic Life

Me: Hey, Jenn, I just finished the copy of Zelazny's Guns of Avalon that you loaned me.

My buddy Jenn: Great! How did you like it?

Me: It was cool. Zelazny does in 200 pages what all these other writers do in a ten book series. Though, if we put Martin into that category... I'd taken a Martin doorstopper any day. They're just... different modes of writing. I read Martin to get that really complex character stuff, really big, complex politics. Zelazny'll take you there and back again in 200 pages. Cool in itself, but you're going through all these neat, crazy worlds, you know, like the furry people?

Jenn: Oh, I wouldn't know. I haven't read the Amber books.

Me: ::looking at pile of 6 Amber books sitting on my bedside::: But... you have *all* of the Amber books. You've had them for... years and years and years.

Jenn: Yea. I know. I never got around to reading them.

Me: Like the 800 other books in this house that you haven't read?

Jenn: Yea.

Me: You're nuts.

I then go and start reading the next in the line of eight books I'm currently reading all at the same time.

We have a great house.

French Speak, and All That

I'm finishing up Angela Carter's Heroes & Villains (which I enjoy because it's - because it's Angela Carter), and there's this quote at the beginning:

"Ou fuir, dans un pays inconnu, desert, ou habite par des betes feroces, et par des sauvages aussi barbares qu'elles?"

Now, my grandmother is from France (she was a war bride, straight out of formerly-occupied Nancy), my father was born there and lived there for seven years and used to speak fluent French, and I've taken two years of college French, but because I'm an American, I'm not fluent in any second language like, say, everybody else in the rest of the world. However, I do know that this says something about deserts, and living, and savages, but I can't lick it out, so I engaged the help of these... um, not-so-helpful translators:

From Babble Fish:

"Or to flee, in does an unknown country, desert, or live by betes feroces, and qu'elles such cruel savages?"

From Google:

"Or to flee, in does an unknown country, desert, or live by betes feroces, and savages as cruel as they?"

From Free-Translator:

"Or to flee, in does an unknown country, deserted, or live by wild animals, and savages as cruel as they?"

I'm assuming this is an expansion of Nietzsche's "He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster," quote.

Likely, it means something like this: "Or in fleeing into an unknown country, desert, or place of wild beasts, does one become as cruel as they?"

Reminds me that I should be taking French classes on Saturdays. And reminds me just how lacking all of these online translators still are.

Outta Here

I'm taking tomorrow off work to do some less distraction-filled fiction writing.

Just got back from lunch, where I was told that my credit card had expired ::insert a moment of mind-numbing terror here:: Gave over my bank card. Unfortunately, my bank card only had $10 on it, and lunch came to $11.53.

To my surprise, said card went through - Dell hasn't cashed my $100 computer payment yet. But when they do, guess who's getting double check-bouncing charges! Me! Me!

I have $1 in my wallet. I'm going to the bank tomorrow morning and putting it into my account (which now stands at exactly $99.37 - wouldn't that be great, getting charged $60 in check bouncing fees for 53 cents?). And then I'm going through all my stuff so I can figure out where I put my new Master Card.... otherwise, I'm not buying any groceries this week.

Credit: a liberal arts major's best friend.

The Way to Run a Debate

This is how the debate should have run. Now *that* would have been a smart, informed, pissing contest.

Smart guys are hot.

Today's Mixed Bag

Wheee! The Ladies' Auxillary is going to Iraq! To teach Iraqi women how to be "real women" instead of Evil Feminists! Go Lynn Cheney!

And, for something completely different:

Be sure to check out Team America sneak peaks coming in on the 9th, with an opening day of the 15th. If you haven't heard about it (do you live in a hole in the ground?) it's the latest raunchy offering from Trey Parker and Matt Stone of South Park fame. They're out to put the "F" Back in Freedom - with puppets.

Here's an interview snippet, which helps illustrate why I love these guys:

"For better or worse, we don't have a manager, we don't have a publicist, we don't have a managed image, you know what I mean? We can fucking do whatever we want," Stone says.

"And sometimes it succeeds and sometimes it totally fails, but we just do what we want, 'cause you know, the times we've done what we want, it turned into South Park, which everyone told us would be a big failure.

"If we're gonna lose -- if we're gonna be fuckin' losers -- we're just gonna lose our own way."

The Writing Life, & etc.

My buddy Jenn forwarded this to me: THE SECRET DIARY OF EDITOR #19!

And, my personal favorites:

THE SECRET DIARY OF CLUELESS NEWBIE #43

and

THE SECRET DIARY OF FRUSTRATED WRITER #77

Hot Time On the Old Town Tonight

Yesterday was the third day in a row of fighting classes, and I still haven't managed to shake this cough of mine, and it appears to be culminating in the loss of my voice (this happens at least twice a year, during the changing of the major seasons).

So at about 40 minutes into class last night, I was exhausted - body shaking, sore muscles, wobbly stance exhausted. We were doing a cardio Krav Maga class, which is heavy bag work (kicking and punching techniques) cut through with ab work, lunges, and push-ups.

As we got to the very end of class, Sifu Katalin had us get into and hold a plank position. This isn't actually a very difficult thing to hold - it's basically holding yourself up into a push-up position, tightening up your core, and holding it for a minute. Doing this as part of a pilates class, or at the *beginning* of any other class, isn't difficult in the least. Doing this at the end of a cardio Krav Maga class, as the third day in a row of classes when you're used to doing two days a week... was harder.

"Hold it," Sifu Katalin said. "Twenty more seconds. Close your eyes if you have to. It'll help. Get through it."

And I closed my eyes and quite literally went away. My brain just sort of clicked off from my body and said, "See ya," and I fell back into my writerly fantasyland - I think I ran through some Delaraan plot point I'm cleaning up in book one, with dancing and dog riders.

I descended into blackness for the last twenty seconds, until Sifu Katalin said: "Time" - and then I crumpled.

Tuesday was a really frustrating boxing class. I was paired with an Amazon-like purple belt, Jai, who helped me through the uppercuts. I find throwing uppercuts to the body really awkward, and I've apparently been keeping my feet too narrow while in my fighting stance. I wasn't feeling well, and I was really fucking frustrated.

Jai said, "How long have you been doing this?"

I lied and said three months, when in fact it's been four. That's how bad I thought I was doing.

She just laughed at me. "I've been doing this three years," she said, "and I used to teach boxing at another school. Don't get frustrated. C'mon, tall girl, you've narrowed your stance again."

My friends have gotten to the point where they know me well enough to help me understand the significance of events in their lives by giving me a writing analogy. My buddy Ryan was asked by a formidable guest dancing instuctor to give an example of a form during class, and he said - without my prompting - "It would be like a really famous author holding up an example of your work to the class and saying, `this is how it's done.'" My buddy Patrick once explained how me dropping out of being a bridesmaid at my best friend Stephanie's wedding would be "on par with an editor buying your novel, getting through rewrites and bluelines and shit, and then saying, 'Oh, hey, we just had a strategy shift, and we need this all ironed out in one book -- and we need there to be at least three enormous fight scenes with riding dogs in them. You've got ten days, or else the book will never get published.'"

I love my friends.

So, coming home from class last night, sore and exhausted and knowing that I still had one more class tonight in order to hit my new four-days-a-week goal, I equated my frustration with a wannabe writer being pissed off because they wrote for an hour every day for four months, and they still weren't making a living by writing books.

And I thought of how long and hard I would laugh at that person.

I'm doing OK.

Heh heh

Sorry so quiet today - I spent all morning trying to figure out where I'd found this:



It's here. I found a commenter over at Atrios who pointed faithful readers this way...

I only managed to catch about 20 minutes of the VP debate, because I'm still fighting off some sickness, and I had my MA class last night. I don't remember ever finding politics this entertaining - I think the entertainment value goes up the more informed you are. Within about a minute and a half, I understood why everybody says that Cheney's the brain-behind-the-Bush. After watching Bush blustering through his bashing by Kerry, seeing Cheney lie and dodge like a pro was really neat. Edwards, I thought, came off as terribly boyish and excited, which may have undermined some of his credibility, but ultimately, he seemed to be having a really great time, while Cheney looked increasingly tired and bored.

For all the "joking" about Darth Vader vs. Luke Skywalker... well, the resemblences were pretty funny.

More From the Fighting Life

This is the first week of four days worth of classes - Mon, Tues, Weds, Thurs (and the usual jogging and/or bike riding for fun on the weekends). This gives me four in a row, and double-up potential on Mon and Weds in the future. I realize that saying this to, say, fit people whose body makes up their temple or their occupation (dancers, pro-boxers) might be laughable. But for a sedentary writer-type who'd rather be reading, it's not half bad.

As of this month, I've been working on fighting technique and upgrading my fitness level from "twenty minutes on the elliptical and some dinky free weights" to I WILL BECOME A SUPAH NINJAH for four months.

Not bad.

I'm having a good time.

Continuing Worklife... Yes, it Goes On

There really are people with jobs like this.

People who get paychecks for just... coming into work. I thought this was an illusion. It is not. I haven't really done any work since June.

My office space looks a bit like my college dorm room did, only the sticky notes affixed to my computer have vendors' names and addresses and project numbers instead of story notes. But here at my left elbow are 150 manuscript pages I'm revising, and a yellow notepad upon which I've got book pacing/layout notes for the stand-alone fantasy I'm working on for my next novel project. I've got a copy of Zelazny's Guns of Avalon sitting out (yes, yes, I'm only 2 chapters from the end - I keep getting interrupted by reading other things), and I've just cracked open a can of diet dr pepper and set it next to my stash of CDs. I'm listening to the soundtrack to The Hours. There's a packet of dried apricots here that have been stored in my outbox for the last week.

I'd like to think that this is my reward for doing all the admin. work for $12M worth of projects this year. Either my boss has forgotten to fire me (which is a possibility), or I'm viewed as such a valuable asset that they don't want to lay me off and risk losing me to another job just as they sign on for another project.

That's the great thing about being in a big firm: they have the resources to retain you and your writing habit.

Today's Mixed Bag of Goodness

So, here's what happening: is the President dumb, or is he just playing a dumb guy on TV? Aaron McGruder, the creator of the comic strip Boondocks, said out loud what no media pundit has dared to say. And check out Michael Moore's Letters From Iraq.

In other news, courts in Brazil ruled unanimously that same-sex couples had to be treated as married in matters of state: Brazillian law blocks the spouse and relatives of an elected official from succeeding them in office. There's gonna come a point when treating people as married *some* of the time and not *all* of the time is going to get pretty stale. Wake up, America. Also via Alas, A Blog - check out this discussion about the decriminalization of women involved in prostitution. What happens if you decriminalize the women and start agressively going over pimps and johns? If nobody *buys* something, there's no use selling it, right?

For those interested in the bubbling around Mt. St. Helens (I grew up in an area where you could see St. Helens from the surrounding hills), Jay Lake has been doing a Mountain watch. Want it live? Check out the Volcano Cam here, or get up-to-date info here.

Prepping for the Next Debate

Yes, chiklits, there's another debate tonight. Should be sunny!

For those who missed the Daily Show's wrap-up of the last debate, go be entertained here.

And now... here's your viewing guide for tonight, stolen shamelessly from World O' Crap:

THE BASICS

Vice President Cheney
5 feet 10 inches

North Carolina Sen. John Edwards
Height 6 feet

Strengths

CHENEY: Projects gravitas (i.e., oldness). Has held lots of government jobs. Commands an operational Death Star. Pact with Satan gave him unknown powers, plus a nice portfolio of Halliburton stock.

EDWARDS: Good looks, dazzling smile, great hair. Came from blue-collar background - uses it to show he identifes with problems of working people. Skilled orator. As a trial lawyer, knows Jedi mind tricks.

Weaknesses

CHENEY: Speaks in monotone. Looks like your grumpy jr. high principal. Responsible for quagmire in Iraq. Couldn't care less about jobs, insurance, old people, or what will happen to orphans after he forecloses on mortgage.

EDWARDS: Still serving first term in Senate - has never started a war, or been a wartime VP. Never killed a man just to watch him die -seems too nice to go for opponent's jugular. Not a member of the Trilateral Commission.

Track Record

CHENEY: In 2000 debate, some said he seemed less dour than Joe Lieberman. Had Democratic opponents in House races in Wyoming whacked; claims victory in those debates too.

EDWARDS: Seemed sunny, nice, likable during Democratic primary debates - all the pundits said so. Not used to debating while seated.

Task this Time

CHENEY: Push message that John Kerry is a francophile poofster whom the terrorists want to win so they can attack U.S. again and kill your children. Claim that Edwards lacks the experience and ruthlessness to kill Kerry and assume the presidency, if required.

EDWARDS: Goad Cheney into snarling "go f-- yourself", or "I'll get you yet my pretty; you and your war hero too!" Get him to make funny and/or scary faces for the camera. Make fun of his baldness in hopes he has heart incident. Bring up WMDs frequently, and aks him if HE knows that we were attacked by al Qaeda, not Saddam. Smile a lot.

Always Take The Batteries Out

Fellow travellers:

When discarding your sex toy at the airport, please remember to take the batteries out *before* you throw it away (I mean, come *on* this is vibrating sex toy 101, people).

Thank you.

via Bent Fabric

Saddam to Declare Candidacy for Iraqi Elections

Wouldn't this just be the perfect end to the perfect fuck-up?

Go democracy!

Ah, the WorkLife

Yellow just came into my office and dropped off some close-out documents. He set them down and burst into a rendition of Ice, Ice Baby.

I love working working here.

Oh, For Fuck's Sake.

Amanda over at Mousewords pointed me to this Today Show clip that is... downright laughable.

You know, I'm a year out of college, and I've never used the term "hook up." Amanda rants a lot better about this than I'm about to, so check out her rant here.

Yea, teenagers and young adults have sex. You know, like young people have always had sex, because, you know, it's fun, and it's hardwired. The difference between now and, say, the 60s and 70s is that now (because of AIDS) we're more likely to use condoms. You couldn't drink a beer in my college dorm without condoms springing up in abundance. In South Africa, you better bet everybody's getting it on - and you've never seen so much condom use (among the higher-end of the social heirarchy anyway) in your life. Sure, people are allowed to be more relaxed about sex in today's America - because women aren't forced or shamed into marrying the first guy they "hook up" with. And I agree with Amanda that what we're really talking about here is the "problem" of women who fuck around without "catching feelings." Fucking around without getting attached has practically been a definition of masculinity (and woe to those poor men who just want a "relationship") - it's cool that (I'm assuming, here) women feel empowered enough in their sexuality to choose when and with whom to sleep with and decide whether or not they're obliged to see more of him outside the buff.

Seeing these two "older" women (what, one's just past 30, the other's pushing past 40? C'mon, you guys, one of you grew up in the 80s, the other in the 60s, for fuck's sake - don't tell me teenagers never had sex "back in the good old days when we walked up hill both ways." That was yesterday, for goodness sake) discussing this topic so seriously in this clip sent me into giggles. Yea, right, haven't you guys been to college? How about high school? What's the difference between one-night-stands and serial dating? If all the two of you really want to do is hop into bed together, why go through a dating ritual for three months if it's already really clear that you're not compatable?

There's nothing so annoying as older people who totally blank out all memory of what it's like to have a libido. Frickin weirdos. It's the usual scenerio: sex among the unmarrieds is rampant and immoral, but the marrieds can have as much sex as they want with each other and in whatever random affairs they have, cause they're, you know, *married.*

Whatever.

Once More Around the Mulberry Bush

Was sick most of the weekend, which meant I stayed in bed and finished reading a bunch of books that I was reading concurrently. So, finished Kim Chernin's The Obsession, Nick Mamatas's Move Under Ground, and Sharon Shinn's The Shape Changer's Wife.

Short review would be a) old but base book about anorexia, half of which was interesting, the other half of which sort of waxed poetical about the female body. Not that I didn't appreciate that, mind you, but my own biases were getting the better of me, and I was getting ancy, as in "how much longer until this book is over?" ancy b) as for MUG, reading this book is like being on drugs. If you like that sort of thing, and you're a fan of Cthulu and/or Jack Kerouac, read this book. If not... well, this is an "acquired taste" sort of book c) and Shape Changer's Wife is a really great book, until you get to the epilogue. Which is crap. I'd forgotten that Sharon Shinn was a romance writer at heart... an American romance writer, where everybody needs to form chokeholds on each other at the end. So, read this, but if you're like me, skip the crappy romance-formula epilogue (which, I feel, undermined the entire point of the entire frickin' story. Ahem. But, that's me).

The Writing Life

Working on line edits the rest of today.

Also, I've started outlining a stand-alone fantasy novel about a female bounty hunter looking to get a lordship. She's going after the Queen's brother, who's killed their father, in a society of shapeshifting mages where non-magic users are considered a seriously deviant underclass. My Heroine is, of course, a deviant. There's guns, dodgy science, crude electicity, and lots of organic tech.

This being a Kameron novel, you can bet there's going to be sex, bugs, civil war, and women bathing their hair in the blood of their enemies.

Oh yeah.

Barring any great personal news, I'll see you all Monday.

Happy October!!!

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!