The Wizarding Game (and World)

 I have 100% been a hypocrite about HP.

Even when Jo began Tweeting her insane TERF logic, I kept wearing HP jewelry that I own. I kept watching the movies when they came on TV. I kept thinking about buying a video game (thankfully I'm lazy and bad at buying video games so that never happened). I pretended Cursed Child and the Fantastic Beasts series never happened to put my head in the sand.

We are so far beyond that now.

Jo has begun suing / threatening to sue people who Tweet about how her beliefs align with Nazis. She is using her money (money that I contributed to) to bring lawsuits against people who call her out on her beyond unbelievable and offensive thoughts. To the point where people have to delete the Tweets and formally apologize to her saying that nothing they said was true.

I had been ignoring it pretty successfully until the Wizarding game came out. Watching the near constant online discourse about the politics of buying the game has been watching people twist themselves in mental knots worthy of the Olympics. People are saying they buy the game but also donate to charities!

Jo has directly said that people continuing to buy and support HP are proof that people agree with her. They agree with her destructive TERF logic. They buoy her into thinking that she is somehow right.

I was literally in my high school yearbook as a HP fanatic. I didn't start reading until after GoF came out, but once I did, I went to every midnight release. I would stay up all night to read them because I couldn't stand the idea of having anything spoiled. I went to all the midnight releases of the movies. My friends and I were literally first in line for some of them (this was a million years ago before you could reserve specific seats online. I had so much merch. I had notebooks and board games and stickers and Funko pops and bags and mugs and bracelets and necklaces and snow globes and shirts and posters and DVDs and books and books on tape.

I can't ignore it anymore. It doesn't matter how much the books mattered to me and how it made me feel that good actually can win against evil even in the face of incredible odds. 

The time of HP is over for me, and I hope for a lot of other people.

Where Does The Time Go?

I haven't blogged since way before the pandemic started. July 2019 seems like several decades ago. Last month seems like decades ago.

Summary of what happened: went work from home, our European vacation got cancelled, spent a ton of time in the backyard to try not to lose my mind, did so much pandemic related cleaning (did you know you need to clean the dishwasher trap??), did pandemic projects (replaced the showerhead, painted all the baseboards), moved my "office" three times, finally got vaxxed, went on a nice ladies weekend, got COVID from the masseuse, had no symptoms but anger, probably lost my mind, didn't see family for years, finally went on a few trips, and am sort of getting back into the swing of real life all the time.

My grandmother died over the summer, and I am glad that we got to do some in-person visits.

Time seems to be moving so slowly yet so quickly. We all lost so much time (at least those of us who followed the CDC guidelines and were isolating which I'm still sort of mad about). There isn't any way for us to get time back - time that we should have had with loved ones, time that we should have had with ourselves, and time that we all needed to be part of the world with each other.

I don't want to dwell on everything COVID-related because I'm honestly exhausted.

I want to think about what I should do with the time we have now, the future, and everything else.

10th Anniversary

It's been 10 years since my father died. It's seems like forever. I guess it should, since that means he has been gone for a third of my life. I was only 23 when he died.

July 19 was a Sunday in 2009. I remember that I didn't know what to do, so I went into the work the next day. A coworker was about to transfer a difficult client to me, and I ranted for a bit on the phone. That was out of character for me, so he asked what was wrong. When I told him what happened, he didn't transfer the call over and told me to go the hell home (in a nice "why the hell did you come in?!" kind of way). I don't really know the details, but my manager came over, asked me if it was true, and sent me home. I don't really remember a lot else from around then.

The viewing was exhausting. We did two sessions in one day. I think I had a sandwich or something in the middle? I wish I would have made a sign saying "I'm Blair (the oldest). I graduated from Duquesne. I work in Greentree. I live in Shadyside." I spent more time saying that than anything else. My friends and I have an odd tradition - we go bowling after a family member's viewing. It started with someone else's grandparent and kept going. It's slightly morbid, but you have to do something when you are that numb with grief. Drinking and trying to bowl (it isn't just the drinking - I'm a terrible bowler).

The funeral and the burial were separate because he was cremated. I was a pallbearer at the funeral, and I still have the gloves I wore that day in my dresser (I knew they were there, but I found them again yesterday when putting away laundry). I remember that my mother gave the eulogy and basically nothing else. I don't really remember much about the reception lunch after either (except having a drink from a flask of whiskey).

It becomes a new normal in how you have to answer questions. It's so common when meeting people to ask about family members. If I say that my mother lives where I grew up, the immediate follow up is "Oh, where does your father live?" I inevitably answer that he died and then the other person feels awkward. (Side note: people shouldn't feel awkward! They are common questions, and how would someone even know that?). People my age tend to have experience with great grandparents and grandparents dying, but there are few people who can relate to a deceased parent even now.

There are so many things that my father didn't get to see me do. There is no way to avoid the pain during a life event when you have something this big missing. Even the happiest moments have the twinge of sadness when you think about who is missing.

It also makes you think from a younger age about how none of us are guaranteed anything beyond the present minute. I have tried to make sure that I travel and go see shows and volunteer and do whatever I can to make sure I do the most I can with the time I've given. I don't want to look back and have not something I wanted to do when I had the ability and means to do it.

It's been 10 years. It doesn't get better, but it gets less worse.

We're Gonna Teach Them How to Say Goodbye

When you leave a group of friends, what do you say?

If you're a woman, you probably say "text me when you get home!" I've noticed over the past few years that "text me when you get home!" is basically the female goodbye. Consistently.

I've left parties in Cranberry. "Text me when you get home!"

Work happy hours. "Text me when you get home!"

Friends' house in Friendship. "Text me when you get home!"

Wineries in Gibsonia. "Text me when you get home!"


Dinner in Bakery Square with my sister. "Text me when you get home!"

My husband met me on my walk home tonight because it was a nice evening. I asked him what he said when he left a party  because it was on my mind. He was very confused (definitely thought it was a trap of some kind). "Text me when you get home!" was definitely not one of the options.

Women almost always tell other women to let them know when they are home safely. It's something ingrained in all of us. We want to verify the people we care for get home. Why do we all ask that? Did we all take a seminar at some point that advised us to check in with all our friends and family?

Or is it what has happened to all of us?

Have all of us realized that we ended up in creepy Ubers or roofied at bars or followed on the street by screaming men or been followed into bathrooms or driven alone on strange roads or just walked home alone and didn't know what to do or who to contact.

I am definitely in the "text me when you get home" camp. I do it all the time. I have occasionally waited up until I have heard for someone. Based on what has happened to me and what has happened to people I know, I want to hear that other people have gotten home safely.

While on some level it's a nice thing (yay caring about the safety of others!), on another it's awful. Why do women have to ask and make sure that other women get home? Why do we have to worry that the people we know won't make it even going a short distance?

I'm going to continue asking people to text me when they get home (and I literally ask all my friends regardless of gender because I listen to about a million too many true crime podcasts). When people ask me to text them when I get home, it makes me feel like people care about me. If someone tells me that the want me to stop, I will.

 Unfortunately, I don't think that day will be anytime soon.

That Time I Cried at Zenergy

I've been doing ClassPass for a few months now (if anyone is interested in trying it out, this is my referral link: http://class.ps/m0I5q). I did a few classes at Barre Code Shadyside before taking a class at Zenergy Pittsburgh. I had been to cycle classes at LA Fitness (before leaving that gym because one of their trainers is a total dick jagoff which is a story for later), but I hadn't done anything like this before.

I am usually more of a yoga girl (shout out to my regular studio Yoga Love). I decided to go with something a bit more high energy to try to distract myself from some of my work stress.

Zenergy mixes in some of the yoga mindset with a rave-like atmosphere. I have reached the point where I can do the warm up without looking like a total moron. But, as a great theater professor liked to tell us, don't be afraid to make an ass of yourself!

Let's get to the point where I cried yesterday.

I had a super shitty work day yesterday. Like, the kind of day where I almost went to cry in the Olive Garden parking lot. I knew that I had the class after work, so I was looking forward to shutting my brain off and riding.

During a few minutes of just riding in the dark, the instructors like to give some inspirational monologues.

Yesterday Josh's point was that we either came to class because we had a great or a bad day. And that one of the reasons we come to class is that we have another day on this Earth.

It's coming up on the 10 year anniversary of my father's death. I have been thinking about things like having another day on this Earth a lot recently.

So to be in a class after a bad day and hear the instructor talk about how we are all happy to have another day really got to me.

I cried.

It's always an experience to be reminded of the fact that we aren't guaranteed another day or another minute or another second. We choose what we do with each day, and it's never too late to reset how the day is going.

So I for sure cried during a fun workout class. And I will probably do it again.

(PS: I know this post seemed super like an ad, but I just wanted to give people info. None of the links above sponsored anything!)

Almost Time to Travel

I leave for Rome on Friday! It's incredibly surreal.

Movement Class trip to France!

I never thought I would be at a point in my life where I would be doing something like visiting Rome. I didn't even get on a place until college! I don't think I had even left the Eastern Time Zone until then.

I didn't fly until post 9/11. To me, you have always had to have less than 3.4 ounces of liquids in a plastic bag, take off your shoes, and not be able to go with someone to their gate if you aren't flying with them. So...I don't really have good old days of aviation.

Not traveling definitely doesn't seem like it fits with who I am now. I'm constantly traveling and traveling alone a lot of the time. Less than a month after our Rome trip, we are going to NYC to see Baroness play. After that? I might be going to Seattle.

When I'm debating if I should travel or go somewhere or not, I think about my dad. How I'm sure that he thought there would be time to travel or staycation (side note: for some reason, I imagine him hating the word "staycation").

Sometimes there isn't.

Any opportunity to travel, I take it. I've been to Hawaii, San Diego, Seattle, NYC, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Chicago, Virginia, and more. I will continue to travel as often as I can for as long as it is an option.

Because one day, it won't be.

Doing 2018 Resolutions in 2019

Is there anything more accurate about resolutions that totally ignoring them for an entire year?

My post about my 2018 resolutions didn't turn out exactly as planned. By that, I mean I didn't do any of those things.

I finally went to yoga! Even though (as I said in my last post) not doing something for a while makes you want to continue not to do it, I decided tonight was the night to go back to Yoga Love. I thought that candlelight yoga would take it easy on us. I was wrong.

I hadn't gone in a while because I have been having issues with my shoulder hurting. I went in tonight thinking that I would try and see how it went. Caleb said "listen to my body," but if there's one thing I hate it's listening to anything. As of right now, my shoulder feels really good. There was only one thing tonight I couldn't do (that thing where you do lower crunches with your legs in the air - wasn't happening). If it turns out that all I needed to do for my shoulder to feel better was go back to yoga, I'm going to be so pissed.

As soon as we got started, the instructor said "We are going to go into Crow!" And I was like "Fuck. I haven't been to yoga in a year, and we are starting with an arm balance. Ok." Before we got to Crow, we could try Side Crow. I decided to just try it because if I fall, whatever. I could do Side Crow to my right but not as great my life which is exactly how it was the last time I went to yoga.

As we got closer and closer to Crow, I got more and more nervous. As usual, I was being super dramatic about it and was thinking about how if I couldn't get close to Crow I was going to totally embarrass myself. As usual.

So we finally get to Crow. I'm not a huge fan of using the block to put your head on while attempting to get into the pose. I know some people like it because they don't feel like they are going to faceplant, but I feel like the block is going to move and I'm def going to break my nose.

It wasn't a great Crow. My arms were sort of shaking, my feet weren't high up enough off the ground, and I'm pretty sure I was breathing in a not zen way.

But I did.

And isn't that sort of the summary of resolutions? It's about doing things you want to do while also realizing that no one is perfect.

I've already solved one of my 2018 resolutions: my office moved to Greentree, and it's def not a place I can bike to from Shadyside! One down, five to go. I will definitely get to two new cities in 2019 - Team Wackhaus is going to Rome!

When not having done something in a while makes you not want to do it

I was thinking about how I hadn't blogged in a while. So I went to the main page to see when I last posted. Oh, 9/28. That was a few minutes ago.

Then I start thinking about how it has definitely been too long since I posted for me to even think about posing something again. If you haven't posted in so long, what can you even do to start back up again?

I'm also having this with yoga. I haven't been to yoga in forever, and I'm not going to look into how long that has been because I'm not okay with it. I have so many excuses about why I'm not going. A big one is that I haven't gone in so long.

Duolingo as well. I was doing moderately okay at Italian, but I had one bad day which made me take a few off. Since I took a few days off, I have been like "Oh well, it's been too long so I guess we don't do that anymore."

What is it about not doing something that almost feels like it gives you permission to not do it?

I am going to try not to do this anymore. Doing one blog post today will make me do one next week. I'll work on the other two later...

What do we do?

This week has been emotionally exhausting.

There was the momentary high of Bill Cosby being convicted in a court of law of being a sexually violent predator. News sites were calling him the first conviction of the #MeToo movement.

That hope was short lived.

The Kavanaugh hearing.

The fucking Kavanaugh hearing.

The hearing itself is a goddamn tragedy. As if there was any doubt, Republican men have proved that it isn't they don't believe women - they just don't give a shit.

Oh, he didn't write running a train on drugged girls in his calendar! It clearly didn't happen!

I want whatever drugs you assholes are on. I probably need them to survive this.

Women are telling their stories in public and on social media. The bravery coming from this shitstorm is inspiring.

It's so hard to hear the stories.

It wasn't super obvious, but my last post was about going out again after being drugged.

What's awful is that I tell my story and over half the time the reply from other women is their own story. The stories are almost always told lightly - almost apologetically. Oh I was out drinking and this happened. Oh I was at a party and this happened. As if there is any excuse for this happening.

I don't doubt anyone who tells their story later. I don't doubt the victims of the Catholic conspiracy. I don't doubt the victims of Kava-fucking-naugh. Coming forward is not an easy task.

Personally, I have no hope on this. I think Kavanaugh will be confirmed. I don't think the House or the Senate will go blue. I think Trump will win again in 2020.

What do we do?

We protest. We fight. We vote. We speak. The world may go to shit, but I won't participate.

I am not throwing away my shot.

Back in the Game

So...after a rough time at Milano's after Panic! At the Disco, I'm back to going out alone.

I'm incredibly nervous about being out alone, but what else can I do?

Am I going to sit at home alone?

I mean, that is technically a valid and understandable option. It might even be considered the rational choice.

I'm not really about rational.

So, here I am at Cappy's alone. I can't let one bad situation confine me to my condo.

As usual, I don't have a solution or a final word. I just have living.

When "Gay Marriage" Became "Marriage"

It's only been 3 years since the landmark the Obergefell v. Hodges decision. The year SCOTUS shocked everyone by being on the right side of history (even with a bunch of jags on the bench - soon to be more).

This wasn't the first fight for Jim Obergefell. He fought in Ohio. Can you imagine being in a courtroom and listening to people talk about how marriages between cousins or minors that would be illegal in Ohio are recognized if they were legal in the place they were conducted and someone telling you that yours isn't?

Other decisions led up to this. United States v Windsor for example. Edie Windsor was a boss bitch. She was everything the Right hates. A Jewish lesbian in the tech industry. I would love it if I could a tenth as badass as she was. (Side note: it's kind of funny in an awful way that they are referred to as "the Right" when they are very in the wrong about a lot of things, and I am "the Left" which has traditionally been used to talk about things that are wrong.)

I remember being home sick from work that day. I was lying in bed waiting for the decision to happen. I was ready for it either go back to the lower courts or for a ruling against it. When you are on the right side of history, you have to be ready for some defeats. You always prepare a gracious way to lose and a plan on how to win the next one.

Then we didn't lose.


I cried. A lot. America was finally on the right side of history.

In an sort of poetic way there was the anniversary of another landmark decision that changed the nation.

The Obergefell v. Hodges case came almost 48 years to the day after Loving v. Virginia.

There are people alive today who grew up with interracial marriage and gay marriage as illegal. There are people who still believe they should be. We are on a dangerous and terrifying backslide right now. America is moving towards the wrong side of history. Again.

No matter how defeated or powerless we feel, we can't let hate win. We can't stand by while a loud minority of hateful people try to turn back the tide of progress.

History has its eyes on us. Let's try not to disappoint the future. Or the past.

 

Oh Roseanne

Girl, are we really going to blame Ambien for the racist Tweets?  (Special shout out to Sanofi US Twitter account for their reply of "racism is not a known side effect of any Sanofi medication.")

I mean, points for originality. Most people go with a "oh, I didn't mean it like that" or "I expressed myself in a poor manner and thoroughly apologize." Generally people try to apologize (even if it is in a half assed way). Maybe they try to say that it was misinterpreted.

Not Roseanne.

She apologized for her Tweet not the thought behind it, and that is a key difference.

Roseanne didn't apologize for comparing Valerie Jarrett to an ape. She didn't apologize for the Muslim Brotherhood comments. She apologized for Tweeting and being caught in what she said. While "apologizing" for what she said, she showed us who she really is. We need to believe her.

Her rapid fire replies this morning were definitely from the Cheetoh in Chief school of Twitter. Tweet as fast you can as loud as you can and hope that people lose themselves in the frenzy and forget. Shockingly, it didn't happen this time. Roseanne's show was canceled even though it was number one.

https://bit.ly/2IXa9wW

Why would she think this Tweet of all of them would be the thing to bring down her sitcom? She dressed as  Nazi taking people shaped cookies out of an oven. I really don't care if it was supposed to be a satirical photoshoot - there's some stuff you don't do. Just not ever. I wouldn't dye my hair orange and wear a bulletproof vest in a movie theater. Some shit just isn't funny.

She called Susan Rice (the 24th National Security Advisor who was Rhodes Scholar) "a man with big swinging ape balls." Roseanne is a trash person who loves comparing people of color to apes. The producers of the show told us to separate her personal life from her character.

We do live in a world where the sorry ass excuse for a human got elected President even with a recording of him saying "grab them by the pussy." It makes sense that racists would think that they can get away with saying whatever they want. We don't have to live in that world anymore. We don't have to let them take over.

Is it about goddamn time we take back our country from people who openly express their racist, homophobic, and sexist ideas?

Another Week, Another Shooting

I read one of the many articles about the most recent shooting at Santa Fe High School (ten wounded, ten dead). One of them said that it was the worst mass shooting since Parkland. Parkland was three goddamn months ago. Calling it the worst shooting since Parkland means that there have been others. I think that the article I read said there have been 10 school related shootings since Valentine's Day. That's 10 other shootings in 3 months.

How are we okay with this? Because, as a nation, we clearly are.

Other nations aren't.

Australia is a fantastic example of this. In 1996, the Port Arthur Massacre happened. 35 people of all ages died. It was horrible. The Australian people were appalled. The difference between US and Australia? Austria fucking acted. The National Firearms Agreement was passed TWELVE days after the massacre. There was a huge problem that allowed this sort of mass shooting to take place, and they acted. Instead of people dying at school, at movie theaters, at concerts, at any other place imaginable, their government decided to make sure they did everything they could to make sure it couldn't happen again. Gun activists like to talk about how laws won't stop criminals from breaking the law. Fair point, but there was a shooting this year in Australia in which seven people died - this was the deadliest shooting since Port Arthur. That can't be a coincidence.

The Onion No Way to Prevent This article honestly sums it up. The same things happen over and over and over again. The news comes out that there was a shooting. We don't know how many people were hurt or died - then we find out it was a lot. Second amendment nutjobs show up on social media and talk about how guns aren't the problem, people are the problem.

They're right about one thing: people are the damn problem.

What have we done since Parkland? What will we do after Santa Fe?

We don't have to live like this. We don't have to die like this. But apparently we will.

Does Rent Hold Up?

I saw Rent twice while it was in Pittsburgh - the opening night on Tuesday and the second to the last show today. I have seen the show at least twice (possibly three times) before, and I have listened to the soundtrack more than was probably necessary for one person.

I saw it for the first time in high school. A friend's mother had gotten her tickets for her birthday, and she asked me to go with her. I remember my friend's mother sort of warning my mother about the content of Rent. After it was over, I remember thinking how amazing it was.

The whole idea of their lives was foreign to me back then. Like - how could people even live in NYC?! I had never been there, and it was worlds away. All I knew about AIDS was from the health class booklet we all had (I'm like 95% sure it had a blue cover). I didn't know any out gay people (and didn't even know bisexuality existed). Drag queens were something only in movies.

To me, Rent was exposure to real life.
Caleb, destroyer of all things fun, was bitching earlier this week about how all the characters are terrible people. Today was the first stage production he had seen, but he had seen the movie before. There is a giant difference between seeing Rent as a high school kid from a suburban area and seeing it as an actual adult person.

I think if I had seen Rent for the first time now, I would think of it entirely differently.

I have friends who live in NYC, and I have spent time wandering around by myself figuring out what to do (although I haven't been alone in the East Village - went to McSorley's with other people). I know a lot more about AIDS, and I have met people who are HIV+. (Side note: I wonder how different the show would be if PrEP existed back then - would just the intravenous drug users have AIDS?). I definitely know people on all parts of the LGBT spectrum. I've been in drag shows!

There were people much younger than me at the Tuesday performance. The one guy in front of me didn't seem to be enjoying it as much as the rest of us. He was kinda slumped over with his head on his hand. Honestly, it made it easier to see so whatever.

Part of the magic of Rent - for me anyway - was that it was a glimpse into lives that I couldn't even imagine. Does this show (can this show) hold up today?

I think it still stands up. There may be more of a nostalgia factor for the music, and it being the first time I encountered a lot of these ideas. There are obviously flaws in it, but does that really matter? Rent was one of the first times I really thought about their being other ways to live your life. There will always be a place for a show like that.

Girls' Clothing

I know what you're thinking: "Blair, it's Saint Patrick's Day. Why are you sober enough to write a blog post? Are you sick?" Thank you for your concern, and my friends are coming over later. I am drinking the rest of the Guinness that went with my corned beef, so we're okay.

Getting ready for people to come over is exactly what inspired me to write this today. I'm wearing a children's shirt from Target because they're cheap and I can fit in them. When I was walking down to take the trash out, and I saw my shirt in the mirror (because obviously I live in a building that has floor to ceiling mirrors at the entrance).

Not pictured: the cute shamrock on the side

This is pretty see through for a children's shirt. I'm a grown ass woman who happens to like her clothing a bit see through, so it's not an issue for me. Do I care if the people in my house can see my bra while I'm doing car bombs? No, I do not.

But then I thought about being 12 or 13. It's already an insanely awkward time in your life. I think at that point I had just gotten training bras (honestly, I've kinda blocked that whole chunk of my life out - thank you, vodka). You're not trying to draw attention to yourself because kids are jagoffs. I can imagine seeing this shirt at Target, thinking it's cute, and not really looking at in strong light before I get to school.

I don't have too much personal experience with this, but I think a girl would get in trouble at a lot of schools for having her bra showing. Somehow it would be her fault she didn't think to layer. I don't even know who I'm more mad at sometimes - the schools who sexualize this stuff or the companies who make all the clothing too thin to wear without another layer. I'm gonna go with both.

I've ranted about clothing a bunch of times before, but for some reason this really got to me. This didn't come the juniors section. This is straight up from the girl's section. Why are we starting this bullshit women's clothing thing so early? We can't let girls wear cute shirts and have fun before we stick them with the bullshit that is women's clothing?

I know it's a cheap shirt from Target, but the boy's cheap shirts from Target aren't see through.

Apparently the issues with women's clothing start as soon as you can get out of infant clothes.

National Walkout Day is hope for the future

National Walkout Day is amazing.

I literally can't see anything about it on social media without tearing up. I'm tearing up now, and I haven't even said anything about it yet.

Young people, most of whom can't even vote yet, are showing that they will stand up to what is wrong. They see a system that is fundamentally flawed and have to do something about it. They are standing together to do what is right.

What's also amazing is the way others are reacting to these walkouts.

While internet jagoffs will always say stupid shit about how everyone should keep their mouths shut and shriek about the Second Amendment, the majority of reactions are incredible.

Colleges are putting out statements saying they won't won't penalize students who participate in National Walkout Day (or other peaceful protests). Principals and teachers are working with their students to talk about violence in schools and gun control. Mayors of major cities are tweeting that America is with them.

It's a whole different world.

America let schoolchildren be slaughtered at Sandy Hook, and we didn't do anything. The survivors were too young to speak for themselves. The Parkland Students can, and they are.

When was the last time we heard survivors on this level? We are in an age of fast social media and even faster replies. There has never been this kind of platform before. There has never been a time when survivors can respond in real time to deniers and liars.

As soon as guns rights nuts (very different from responsible gun owners who pay close attention to safety) started tweeting and posting and going on TV talking about shit they know nothing about, these students fought back. I can't imagine being under the kind of scrutiny they are - how people must be going after them and their families. But they keep going. They're putting themselves back in the narrative.

I honestly don't know if I could have done what they are doing at their age. I don't know if I could stand that kind of scrutiny and attacks now. The young people leading and participating in this are an inspiration.

When those people are able to register to vote, they aren't going to let the bastards get away with this anymore. They are going to remember what people have said. The names they've called them. The denial and lies. And I can't wait to see it.

Why I Dress The Way I Do

At my book club on Sunday, I ended up telling a story about when I was in middle school. I had this pair of pants that I absolutely loved. They were from Limited Too, and they were black velvet with blue, pink, and green embroidered flowers. The bottoms were slightly bell bottom. I loved those pants. The last time I wore them was during Spirit Week. The girl whose locker was next to mine (whose name I remember but I'm a fucking lady so I won't mention it) looked at them and said "I thought tacky clothing day was tomorrow!" And our friends laughed.  I was so incredibly embarrassed. Like being in middle isn't hard enough my friends are making fun of my clothes?!

I never wore those pants again.

I loved those pants.

I really let what people thought about my clothes affect me for a while.

I'm not sure exactly when I went off the rails with my clothing. It was a slow descent into the madness I call a wardrobe.

I think it probably started when we would go to the Waterfront to go shopping, and we would all try on the most random things we could find at Express. We would go in looking for jeans and t-shirts and try on jumpsuits. You try on enough weird stuff, and you eventually find something you like!

During my funemployment, a bunch of us went out all you can drink mimosa drunk (shout out to the Yard). American Apparel was closing, so there was a ton of stuff on clearance. Approximately all the mimosas in, I decided that I needed three crop tops (red, blue, and black). They were closing, so no returns! I also got some deep v bodysuits because mimosas.

I didn't have to dress like a "real" adult while I was funemployed. Caleb was on trips, I was going to visit Jon in NYC, and being left to my own devices turns out to involve not a lot of shirt and a whole lot of lipstick.

We had a casual week at work a few weeks ago. (Casual is different than jeans today because you can basically wear whatever. During the summer, I wear shorts. It's amazing.) On the Wednesday of that week, I wore children's pink leggings with rainbows on them and my silver Docs (on Wednesday, we wear pink). I got home, looked in the mirror, and was like "I literally went to an office like this." But - why not?

Ever since my dad died, I realized that there really isn't time to care about stupid shit. Life can change in a moment, and I want to do all I can to do the most I can. I like flashy stuff. I think animal print and metallic are neutrals. I might own more crop tops than t-shirts. I shop in the children's section of Target sometimes. It's what I want to do, and I'm going to keep dressing how I want as long as I can.

I really loved those pants.

Mental Health in America

Since this most recent shooting was a white homegrown terrorist (unless another mass shooting happened since then which is totally possible), we finally get to pretend to talk about mental health treatment in America!

In an effort to distract from the fact that this jagoff had a weapon that shouldn't exist outside serious military engagements and video games, some Republicans have actually been bringing up mental health. It also distracts from how much money these assholes take from the NRA.

I haven't seen any actual suggestions or even a basic understanding of mental health treatment.

Let's talk about insurance! The Mental Health Parity Act was passed in 1996. This was to try to have insurance plans cover mental health on a more equal basis. Good, right? Nope.

There were originally three exemptions: no mental health coverage at all, businesses with less than 50 employees, or if you could document that there was more than a 1% increase in the cost of your plan due to the parity. Super. That definitely doesn't solve the problem.

In 2010, the Mental Health Parity and Addiction Equity Act was passed to deal with the loopholes in the prior act. Including the fact that substance addiction wasn't included. Are there still issues? Of course.

The government thought in 1998 that mental health was something we needed to deal with. And companies did all they could do to not cover it.

How many mass shooting do you think happened between 1998 and 2010? Wikipedia says 56.

What is on this list? Columbine. Virginia Tech. Fort Hood.

I am obviously not a mental health expert, but there was something wrong with these murderers.

In addition to the lack of insurance coverage, there is also the stigma around seeking help. People joke all the time about taking crazy pills or seeing a shrink. Like it isn't a good thing. Like getting help is something to be ashamed of.

It took me years to go see anyone. Years that I definitely should have been. Because I was afraid of what people would think. Because didn't think I had any "real" problems. Because medication isn't something strong people need to do.

There is nothing wrong with seeing a mental health professional. There is nothing wrong with going on medication. There is nothing wrong with trying to get and stay better.

Mental health treatment and stigma *is* a serious issue in America, but let's talk about it seriously and not as a distraction from our appalling lack of gun control.

Who Protests a Bar?!

I went to a Planned Parenthood fundraiser on Monday. It was the 45th anniversary of Roe v Wade. As usual, it was an excellent time! Allegheny Wine Mixer is a great location with lovely wine.

My friend and I took a Lyft over because I was being lazy and didn't want to walk. In my defense, it is 3.5 miles from my house to AWM if you walk it. Driving goes a different route because it's faster for a car. (Also, when did I decide that 3.5 miles was a totally walkable distance? I used to complain about walking the 0.8 miles to Market District!). The Lyft was faster than we thought, so we were standing outside for a bit.

There was this white SUV across the street, and a girl a bit younger than me stepped out of it. She was carrying a folding card table, a bag, and a few signs. The signs were hot pink which Planned Parenthood uses. My friend goes "oh, I think we are going the same place. We're going to the Planned Parenthood event." She says, "Oh, I'm actually against it." Whatever.

As she is setting up her table, she looks at the house. Her bag is sitting next to it - maybe like 15 feet from us. I'm horrible at judging distance. She looks at the SUV still across the street and then starts running down the block away from her stuff. Like, super booking it. I stared after her for a few seconds and then immediately thought I had to go inside. A PPWP protestor just put some shit down and ran away. Holy shit. Oh no. I've seen this episode of Law & Order. I went in the entryway to tell someone about it, but my friend said that she was on the way back. My friend said it didn't even occur to him that she was going to start something, but I'm kinda paranoid and always on the lookout. Especially at a Planned Parenthood event.

The girl sets up her table and some older guy joins her. They had signs about the uterus being a weapon free zone (with badly drawn pictures of medical equipment). I think they had one of those bowls of candy where they try to trick you into a Toostie Roll and then show you a picture of a fetus. There were also pamphlets which my friend took and I ignored her presence. It was a damn stack! It wasn't one flyer - there were four!!! As someone who has extensive tabling experience to the point where it basically one of majors in college, they need to edit.

We told the PPWP volunteers and employees that there were protestors outside and what they looked like. They knew who they were. There are always repeat customers.

The pamphlets were a lot. Not entirely well done either. Mostly about how atheists can be pro-choice, how birth control is racist, and something about babies. Side note: I saw the atheists for life at Pride in 2017, and I'm over it.

When we went to leave, my friend talked to the girl. She looked kinda terrified. He thinks he might have been the first person to actually speak to her all night. He told her what points were strong and which points were super weak. I stayed away. I'm sometimes not great at holding back.

Who protests a bar though?! There weren't live streams of abortions inside. There was wine and nice toasties and fun people. Tables were stocked with condoms and pins (those items were separate, please don't mix). Who were they trying to convert? If you knew about the event, you were a Planned Parenthood supporter. I wasn't going to show up, see some people with a stack of homework, and decide to change my fundamental beliefs.

Unless something actually happened in the bar, it isn't a great place to protest. There isn't anyone new to reach. They were outside AWM. They could have had a perimeter space or something. It was lazy and boring.

Seriously, who protests a bar?

Talking About Tough Issues

To my immense despair, Teen Vogue no longer exists in print. To make up for this periodical loss, they are going to send me Glamour until my subscription runs out. I was going to blog about Aziz Ansari, but thankfully an article in Glamour gave me something to write about until I get my thoughts together!

There was an article called "How to Discuss the Tough Stuff" which was about how to talk with people you love about things you disagree on. There were four different topics: immigration, voting for Trump, gender identity, and gun ownership.

The gender identity and gun ownership parts were really enlightening.

With gender identity it was about how people can be uncomfortable with what they don't understand. It was a mother and daughter. For some older people, the idea of different gender identities and sexualities can be confusing. Sometimes it's confusing to me, and I've spent a lot of time learning about people. I really felt like this mother and daughter connected and figured out how they would be able to relate to each other. It wasn't a case of either of them trying to hurt or ignore the other, it was just no idea on how to talk about anything.

I thought the gun ownership piece would be more upsetting. This was a father and daughter, and she  was expressing how her thoughts on gun ownership changed after she had children. Her father said that he thought about it after her children were born as well. They both seemed like people who wanted to promote responsible gun ownership and laws.

These were people I could talk to in real life.

The other two? Hell no.

When you talk about how immigrants need to assimilate because they're in America? This dude was an immigrant but says that he supports the stupid imaginary Wall because it isn't just keeping out Mexicans; it's also keeping out other people from Central America. His mother came and assimilated so they're not like other immigrants. Awful. I'm checking the hell out of the conversation

You talk about how the Cheetoh in Chief's Access Hollywood tapes made you not like him as a person, but you still voted for him because you like the Second Amendment? You are a bad person. The non-Trumper said "I've had people come up and ask me, 'Why are you friends with Bailey when she's Republican?' And I'm like 'She's a nice person and she's been there for me through a lot of stuff.'" I hate to tell her this, but her friend isn't a nice person. It's not that she's a Republican; it's that she voted for Trump. She heard that Access Hollywood tape and still thought this was someone she could vote because gun rights. That's bad, and she should feel bad.

If you believe in things that hurt people because of things they can't change, you're a deeply terrible person. It doesn't matter what you think about yourself, what you tell yourself when you look in the mirror or sit at church - when you hate people for what they are, you're not a good person. (I'm not talking about hating people for being jerks or being rude to service people - that is totally valid).

At that point, it isn't "talking about tough stuff," it's realizing that you might know some shitty people.