If I went to Hollywood and made a movie about two uneducated black thugs living in a ghetto where every woman in the film was a pregnant teenager addicted to crack, and all they did each day was sit on their porch, listen to rap, shoot guns at passersby while eating watermelon and fried chicken my ass would be nailed to a cross on the cover of Ebony magazine.
However, Hollywood can shit out something as pathetic and degrading as Bride Wars, and entertainment media can't get enough of it. This movie is meant to show women at their worst while doing something that is supposedly strictly female centric (i.e. the wedding). Every negative female stereotype is on display in this film.
This movie is the story of two lifelong friends whose number one dream is to have a big wedding. Funny, in this day and age most women I know have a wedding as just one of their many dreams, and the wedding is rarely their biggest dream. The best friends end up having their weddings booked on the same day, which is weird considering that they are in New York City and we are supposed to believe that there is only one capable wedding planner for 25 million people.
The childhood friends engage in a brutal catfight to sabotage each other's special day. I've been in many a friendship and out of basic respect, no matter how disappointed, I would never even consider ruining something that meant so much to my friend. Also, in any friendship or relationship in general, there is a dominant and a submissive. We are supposed to believe in this film that the friend who has been the lifelong submissive suddenly becomes the Alpha female, which is also highly unlikely.
In the end the aggressive friend who is also a successful attorney has her wedding cancelled and loses her would be husband as punishment for her warlike behavior. While the traditionally submissive friend has the perfect wedding. This is yet another example of Hollywood telling women that you can be a little catty for fun, but winning any kind of war through aggression is strictly male territory.
Most would say that this is just a romantic comedy and it shouldn't be taken seriously, but how can I not be pissed when films like this that show women at their worst are a blatant slap in the face to women everywhere. It's bad enough that Hollywood rarely has a movie that portrays women as interesting and diverse, but it has taken the romantic comedy genre down to its most superficial basic.
I'll be skipping Bride Wars, Bridezilla, and any other form of "entertainment" that depicts women as selfish, catty shrews who are out to destroy each other for a man or an idealized ceremony. I like to live in a world where women have strength, depth, and ambition that isn't punished through abandonment or an over sprayed tan.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Here We Go Again!
I've been on the fence about expanding the family for quite awhile. Rachael is incredibly smart, very strong-willed, and has the energy of a gerbil on crack, so the idea of adding another child was an exhaustion I didn't want to experience.
I went back to work when Rachael was 18 months. The job was low-key and in my field. I wasn't in love with it, but I was content. We moved to California a year and a half later, and that is when I started with a company that consumed my life. I diluted myself into thinking that if I worked hard enough I could reach a point where I could put my family first again, but that never happened. The result was my near absence for 16 months, my daughter's increasing neediness, and my husband's extreme frustration at a schedule that didn't adequately reward me for all of the hours that I took away from them.
The good news is that I woke up and got my priorities straight before I lost everything that ever meant anything to me. In no time I was able to repair the damage done to my marriage, and guarantee Rachael that she would never take a backseat again. The only thing remaining from a year and a half of hell is the guilt I feel for having made a real dumbass decision, but life goes on.
I started a new job instantaneously that resembles the job I had in Seattle, less the dysfunction. I wanted to wait a bit more before we decided to have another child, once again, out of loyalty for my job, but this time Jeff was adamant. He had waited long enough, so here I am expecting our last child, because I agreed to two and only two.
There are vast differences between #1 and #2. I freaked out at six weeks along, because I was as large in my second month with Baby Two as I was in my fourth month with Rachael. I was convinced that my sudden girth meant I had more than one little sprout swimming around in there. Thankfully, my sister-in-law who has been a midwife for 20 years assured me it was just a second baby, and that your body basically has something called "muscle memory". This means that the moment you get pregnant with your second child your body says, "hey I remember this" and inflates like a damn blimp.
The nice thing about my sudden expansion is that it is basically all in my stomach and boobs. I can get into my jeans and pull them up my thighs and over my butt, I just can't zip or button them.
I'm tired as hell, and usually ready to pass out by 7:00pm, which puts the kibosh on exercise. Aside from that I've had very little morning sickness just like the first time. The only other difference is my cravings. With Rachael I hungered for spicy Thai food, large amounts of chocolate, root beer and KFC original recipe chicken. I gained 70 lbs. during my Rachael pregnancy, but that's not going to happen this time.
So far, chocolate gives me heartburn, and all I want is tart. No, not the yummy, cream filled fruit tarts, caper, olives, berries, and an assload of Craisins! Root beer is too sugary, so my drink of choice is ice water-lakes and rivers of ice water-which means between the kid sitting on my bladder and the insane amount of water I'm up peeing at least five times a night. I just see it as nature's way of getting me ready for the every two hours feedings, and also very annoying.
I am excited about having a new little one to cuddle. Rachael has no trace of baby left in her, in fact she has already informed me that she will be changing all of the pee pee diapers and I can change the poopy ones (her dad made the same deal with me when she was the baby). So I guess I welcome 2009 with enthusiasm for a new president, a new place of employment, and a new little punk to unleash on the world. Here we go again!
I went back to work when Rachael was 18 months. The job was low-key and in my field. I wasn't in love with it, but I was content. We moved to California a year and a half later, and that is when I started with a company that consumed my life. I diluted myself into thinking that if I worked hard enough I could reach a point where I could put my family first again, but that never happened. The result was my near absence for 16 months, my daughter's increasing neediness, and my husband's extreme frustration at a schedule that didn't adequately reward me for all of the hours that I took away from them.
The good news is that I woke up and got my priorities straight before I lost everything that ever meant anything to me. In no time I was able to repair the damage done to my marriage, and guarantee Rachael that she would never take a backseat again. The only thing remaining from a year and a half of hell is the guilt I feel for having made a real dumbass decision, but life goes on.
I started a new job instantaneously that resembles the job I had in Seattle, less the dysfunction. I wanted to wait a bit more before we decided to have another child, once again, out of loyalty for my job, but this time Jeff was adamant. He had waited long enough, so here I am expecting our last child, because I agreed to two and only two.
There are vast differences between #1 and #2. I freaked out at six weeks along, because I was as large in my second month with Baby Two as I was in my fourth month with Rachael. I was convinced that my sudden girth meant I had more than one little sprout swimming around in there. Thankfully, my sister-in-law who has been a midwife for 20 years assured me it was just a second baby, and that your body basically has something called "muscle memory". This means that the moment you get pregnant with your second child your body says, "hey I remember this" and inflates like a damn blimp.
The nice thing about my sudden expansion is that it is basically all in my stomach and boobs. I can get into my jeans and pull them up my thighs and over my butt, I just can't zip or button them.
I'm tired as hell, and usually ready to pass out by 7:00pm, which puts the kibosh on exercise. Aside from that I've had very little morning sickness just like the first time. The only other difference is my cravings. With Rachael I hungered for spicy Thai food, large amounts of chocolate, root beer and KFC original recipe chicken. I gained 70 lbs. during my Rachael pregnancy, but that's not going to happen this time.
So far, chocolate gives me heartburn, and all I want is tart. No, not the yummy, cream filled fruit tarts, caper, olives, berries, and an assload of Craisins! Root beer is too sugary, so my drink of choice is ice water-lakes and rivers of ice water-which means between the kid sitting on my bladder and the insane amount of water I'm up peeing at least five times a night. I just see it as nature's way of getting me ready for the every two hours feedings, and also very annoying.
I am excited about having a new little one to cuddle. Rachael has no trace of baby left in her, in fact she has already informed me that she will be changing all of the pee pee diapers and I can change the poopy ones (her dad made the same deal with me when she was the baby). So I guess I welcome 2009 with enthusiasm for a new president, a new place of employment, and a new little punk to unleash on the world. Here we go again!
Sunday, January 04, 2009
Waaahhh Fucking Waaaahhh!
Imagine that you are standing in the checkout line with a basket full of groceries. There is a guy behind you who keeps pushing his basket into your back. There is only one checkout line, so moving isn't an option. After several minutes of rudeness you turn to him and ask him politely to quit poking you in the back. He stops for a few minutes, but then continues to poke you. Now you are getting pissed, so you turn to him again asking him to stop. He refuses and tells you that he wants to you leave the line, but you need your groceries, so you're not leaving. After several minutes of poking, and demanding that you leave, you finally lose it and turn around, punch the asshole dead in the face, and dump the contents of his basket over the top of his bleeding head. Did you overact? Maybe, but how much bullshit and abuse is one supposed to take before they finally lose it?
This is the one question that no one seems to be asking over the past two weeks during Israel's latest move to fulfill its obligations to its citizens and defend them against a terrorist organization. This, and why the U.N. didn't bother issuing a ceasefire against Hamas' attacks prior to this whole situation.
If this seems harsh let me make it clear that I'm not heartless. Once upon a time I felt bad for the Palestinians. I thought that Israel's actions were too heavy handed and that if given the chance Palestinians would reject the terrorist organizations dragging them down and opt for moderates who would engage in honest negotiations for peace and a two state solution. Then they elected Hamas into leadership, and all my respect for them went straight out the window.
Now I'm just annoyed with their constant fucking whining, and the way they paint themselves as victims. Like I said I could feel sorry for them if they were making an effort, but they don't. Instead of spending money on rockets, can't they use the money to set up an infrastructure or an education system? The answer is "no", because it's much easier to blame Israel for all of your problems. Setting up an infrastructure is difficult and requires educated minds who are willing to negotiate with others to achieve a goal. Rousing hate in ignorants is way simpler.
The truth is that everyone can fall back on bad shit that happened in their lives and be victims, but most people I know who have been through life's worst (i.e. violent rape, the loss of a child, cancer, etc.), they spend some time in a dark place, then rebound into survivors. In fact, I know so many survivors that I just don't have time and patience for victims, and constant victims are just assholes who don't want to better their lives.
I know the situation in the Middle East is a tough one, but until the Palestinians are willing to see themselves as more than the small kid who is always picked on they will continue taking cheap shots, electing self-serving terrorists to represent them, and will never have a good quality of life, until of course, civil war ensues. When that day comes and they are spending every moment killing each other, it will be interesting to see how they blame Israel for that, too.
This is the one question that no one seems to be asking over the past two weeks during Israel's latest move to fulfill its obligations to its citizens and defend them against a terrorist organization. This, and why the U.N. didn't bother issuing a ceasefire against Hamas' attacks prior to this whole situation.
If this seems harsh let me make it clear that I'm not heartless. Once upon a time I felt bad for the Palestinians. I thought that Israel's actions were too heavy handed and that if given the chance Palestinians would reject the terrorist organizations dragging them down and opt for moderates who would engage in honest negotiations for peace and a two state solution. Then they elected Hamas into leadership, and all my respect for them went straight out the window.
Now I'm just annoyed with their constant fucking whining, and the way they paint themselves as victims. Like I said I could feel sorry for them if they were making an effort, but they don't. Instead of spending money on rockets, can't they use the money to set up an infrastructure or an education system? The answer is "no", because it's much easier to blame Israel for all of your problems. Setting up an infrastructure is difficult and requires educated minds who are willing to negotiate with others to achieve a goal. Rousing hate in ignorants is way simpler.
The truth is that everyone can fall back on bad shit that happened in their lives and be victims, but most people I know who have been through life's worst (i.e. violent rape, the loss of a child, cancer, etc.), they spend some time in a dark place, then rebound into survivors. In fact, I know so many survivors that I just don't have time and patience for victims, and constant victims are just assholes who don't want to better their lives.
I know the situation in the Middle East is a tough one, but until the Palestinians are willing to see themselves as more than the small kid who is always picked on they will continue taking cheap shots, electing self-serving terrorists to represent them, and will never have a good quality of life, until of course, civil war ensues. When that day comes and they are spending every moment killing each other, it will be interesting to see how they blame Israel for that, too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)