Pseudonymous! Kid! Is! Excited!

IM from Mr. B: The cat killed the cutest little bunny rabbit and I was able to get it and her locked outside all the while talking calmly to Pseudonymous Kid,keeping him in the dark and talking about breaking up a fight that Daisy was really not having.
Me: Good job! (Also good job Daisy)
Mr. B.: She's eating it on the porch....

(later, Mr. B. and Pseudonymous Kid are leaving to pick me up at the office)

Pseudonymous Kid: (opening the door) EWWW!!! (Runs back into the kitchen.)
Mr. B.: . . .
Pseudonymous Kid: Daisy killed something on the porch! Ewww! It's gross! DON'T TELL ME IT WAS A MOUSE!
Mr. B.: No, it wasn't a mouse.
Pseudonymous Kid: It couldn't be a mouse! There is too much grossness! There are too much parts!
Mr. B.: I think it was a rabbit.
Pseudonymous Kid: Or maybe it was a squirrel!
Mr. B.: Maybe. Let's use the side door.

(Mr. B. and Pseudonymous Kid arrive at my work place and call to let me know they're downstairs.)

Mr. B.: Hi, we're down by the loading dock.
Me: Ok, I'll be right there.
Pseudonymous Kid: (shouting in the background) Let me talk to her!
Mr. B.: Pseudonymous Kid wants to talk to you.
Pseudonymous Kid: (on phone) Mama! Did papa tell you where we are?
Me: Yeah, I'll be right down.
Pseudonymous Kid: NO! I didn't want him to tell you!
Me: (laughing) Then how will I find you?
Pseudonymous Kid: (to his papa) Papa, can you move the car?
Mr. B.: (in the background) What for?
Pseudonymous Kid: So that we will be someplace else and I can tell Mama where we are.
Pseudonymous Kid: (coming back on the phone) Also, Mama! We can't go in the front door!
Me: What? Why not?
Pseudonymous Kid: Daisy killed something! And there are gross parts and BLOOD all over the porch! You can't walk in it or it will make you dirty! We have to use the side door!
Me: Okay...
Pseudonymous Kid: (aside) Papa, move the car!!
Pseudonymous Kid: (on the phone again) Mama, come downstairs! We are across the street from the loading dock now! We moved the car!
Me: Ok, I'll be right there.
Pseudonymous Kid: And mama, take the elevator, not the stairs, ok?
Me: Why?
Pseudonymous Kid: Because it will be faster.
Me: (laughing) Pseudonymous Kid, it will be faster if you will let me get off the phone already and come downstairs.
Pseudonymous Kid: Okay.

(I get in the car)

Me: (aside to Mr. B.) How did he find out about the r-a-b-b-i-t?
Mr. B.: I forgot, and we opened the door.
Pseudonymous Kid: And there was a dead thing! Daisy killed something!
Mr. B. Right. And he said, "DON'T TELL ME IT'S A MOUSE!" And I said, "don't worry, it couldn't be a mouse." And he said, "Right, because there's too much grossness."
Pseudonymous Kid: No, I said, "because there's too much parts."
Me: Lovely.

(Arriving home)

Pseudonymous Kid: (throwing open the door) EWW!
Me: Close the door, it's gross. Let's use the side door.
Pseudonymous Kid: It IS a rabbit! See! There's its head!

Newsflash: Santorum right about something, but still dumber than a horse's ass

Via Amanda and Echidne, the transcript of George Stephanopoulus interviewing everyone's favorite defender of women, Rick Santorum.

STEPHANOPOULOS: Let’s talk about something else in the book, radical feminists. A second quote from the book, you say, Respect for stay-at-home mothers has been poisoned by a toxic combination of the village elders’ war on the traditional family and radical feminism’s mysogynistic crusade to make working outside the home the only marker of social value and self-respect.

Let’s get specific here. Name one or two of these radical feminists who are on this crusade.

SANTORUM: Well, I mean, you know, you have — you go back to, what’s her name, well, Gloria Steinem, but I’m trying to remember — I can’t remember the woman’s name. It’s terrible. Anyway…

STEPHANOPOULOS: But it’s kind of an important point. Because you paint this broad brush: radical feminists, village elders. Name one.

SANTORUM: There’s lots of — no, there’s lot’s of — well, Gloria Steinem. There’s one. I mean, there’s lots of writings out there…

STEPHANOPOULOS: She’s been on a crusade against stay-at-home moms?

SANTORUM: There’s lots of writings out there, and there is an opinion by the elite in this country across academia, across the media, that stay-at-home motherhood is not adequately affirmed and respected by our society. And if you don’t believe that, get a panel of stay-at-home moms here on your show, and you ask them whether they feel affirmed by society, whether they feel affirmed by the culture.

Ok, everyone. Many of you are stay-home moms. I was a stay-home mom for a while after Pseudonymous Kid was born. Many of you are academics. I am an academic. Many of you work for the media. Arguably, I'm part of the "media," what with this blog and all. So let's tackle Rick's points:

(1) Yes. Feminists, academics, and some members of the media largely agree that "stay-at-home motherhood is not adequately affirmed and respected by our society." I certainly do. You're right about that one, Ricky. Unfortunately, since you are as dumb as a post, you fail to realize that acknowledging a problem doesn't mean causing or endorsing it.

(2) Those of you who stay home with kids: do you feel more affirmed and supported in your choice by radical feminists like Gloria Steinem*, or by Rick Santorum?

*Actual quote by Gloria Steinem:

We also have to re-define work, so that the work of caring for children and doing human maintenance in the home is counted as productive work, has attributed value.

I love it when the blog posts write themselves.

Heh, I love my Apple

I was just listening to iTunes (which I don't, in fact, do very often, not that it's not a great program, but it never occurs to me to put music on), and I was listening to a bunch of blues music.

I also have in iTunes a conference call that Harry Reid did about the Roberts nomination (item #4 in that post, I dunno if the link's still active).

Apparently iTunes, unbeknownst to me, categorized that call as "blues."

I love that my laptop possesses a sense of humor and political righteousness.

Other people's brilliance

Luckily, even though I'm not so exciting of late, other people are continuing to churn out interesting things to read. I am feeling a bit cranky, though, so I can't help inserting a li'l snark now and again, in reference to debates that have occurred here and elsewhere in left Blogistan. Consider the li'l side comments like Easter eggs.

1. First and most importantly, this press releaes by the Feminist Majority Foundation: Senators Boxer, Mikulski, Murray, Landrieu, Cantwell, Stabenow, and Clinton--you know, the women who are actually leading the party right now--are saying they will "insist" that Roberts clarify his position on abortion. If one of these is your Senator, please write her and tell her thank you. They have also set up a website where you, the American public, can submit questions you would like them to ask Roberts. This is what we call leadership; this is what we call acting like an opposition party; this is what we call being responsible and responsive to your base. Why the boys have to be so divisive about their pet issues and refuse to support the party, I don't know, but be sure and submit a question and write the Big Seven and tell them how much they rock.

2. More on how those horrible illegal immigrants are a threat to our society, and how none of them have any investment in actually, you know, living here: 30 Kids Left Behind After Immigration Raid.

Clark County Sheriff Troy Tucker said agents failed to tell his agency about the raid. If they had, deputies would have made sure the immigration officials knew about the children, some of whom had been in the local public schools for years, he said.

Note also that the tip-off was based on people providing false paperwork, which means they were paying payroll taxes (which of course they couldn't get any benefit from, so free cash money for the rest of us!) and income taxes (which, again, no refund if you can't file) as well as property taxes (through rent, probably) and sales taxes. Yeah, real leeches on society.

3. Aprpos of the discussion about the fourth amendment messenger bag: from Discourse.net, Flex Your Rights, a site with information about how to refuse searches, what your legal rights are (and are not) w/r/t police stops, and useful info about racial profiling, police stop statistics, and so on. Kinda neat. I, for one, would not have thought about the utility of stepping outside and closing the door to talk to police.

4. From Pam's House Blend, the latest post-9/11 war on terror plan by the Republican congress: cutting airport security.

5. From a British blog that I've just added to my blogroll (under "liberal bias"), a story in the Observer about rape incidents, prosecutions, and conviction rates in the UK. Unlike all the useless rape-excusing "advice" people like to offer--don't wear x, don't drink, don't talk to strangers, blah fucking blah--this article actually offers good sound tips:

What to do if you are raped

Report the rape in person at a police station, Sexual Assault Referral Centre (SARC) or . . . a hospital.

Tell a friend or family member so they can accompany you. Take a change of clothes - you'll have to hand over what you're wearing.

Before you're examined, try not to go to the toilet or have a drink. Don't take a shower or wash.

Keep all evidence, such as condoms and tampons.

Try to tell as full a story as you can. Don't worry if you've taken drugs or are drunk - the police just want an accurate picture of what happened.

Ask if there are facilities for your statement to be taken on video - it can be used in court later instead of you having to go through the whole story again.

Try to get some counselling.

Notice that not a single one of those recommendations focuses on what you "should" have done not to get yourself raped in the first place, you silly slut. Read the whole article, especially if you're a guy; it's very good, and very sobering.

6. Morgaine at What She Said posted an article by Representative Waxman detailing 11 Secruity Breaches in the Plame Case; she suggests writing to local and national papers and pointing them to this article, to remind them to keep the story on the front page--not a bad idea. She's also gone to the trouble to put together a very comprehensive list of email addresses for various news outlets.

7. Free Court Pass has a link to a news story about Roberts's role in that stolen Florida election--you know, the one that we found out months and months later was actually won by Gore. Another reason to be suspicious of him, and perhaps another question to ask the Clinton, Boxer, Murray contingent (see above, #1) to press him on.

8. Malice Aforethought provides links to urge Congress to renew the Violence Against Women Act and to pass the Civil Liberties Restoration Act. Sennoma also provides links to the texts of the laws themselves, and to pages where you can see who supports them (and who doesn't). VAWA, I believe, is in real danger of not being renewed: among other things, the law means that you cannot lose your job if you have to spend time in a hospital or shelter in order to escape an abusive husband. The Civil Liberties Restoration Act aims to mitigate some of the more heinous clauses in the Patriot Act (which did just get renewed). It's worth taking time to write on both of these, assuming that you don't want to live in fear of your abusive partner, or your government.

9. Finally, a li'l levity. Everyone's talking about the Bulwyer-Lytton winners, but to my mind, this Faux Faulkner winner really takes the cake. It's politically snarky, but it still sounds just like Faulkner. Via Adam Ash.

Ok, that oughta keep y'all busy while I force myself to do some non-blog writing this afternoon.

Friday pet blogging

Mr. B., watching the most recent White House press briefing (top link on page, dated July 29, is a Real Player link), where Scottie--I'd almost feel sorry for him lately, but... nah, fuck it. Does anyone else find that White House press briefings are the funniest damn shit on tv nowadays? Anyway, Scottie is having to explain why even though Bill Frist isn't supporting Bush on the stem-cell thing (and here we thought, after Terri Schiavo, that Frist had given up all pretense to that medical degree--huh), the Republican Party is still unified. No, really it is. They love life! Especially life that can't actually, you know, do anything! Plus keeping all those stem cells alive in freezers uses up lots of fossil fuel, so, yay!

Anyway, Mr. B. turns to me and says:

Mr. B.: Do you want to adopt some embryos?
Me: And do what? Keep them in the freezer?
Mr. B. Well, yeah! 'Cause how else are you gonna keep 'em ALIVE?!?

Which reminds me of the li'l poem Mr. B. made up once the PK pregnancy test came back positive:

Has it got a finger? Has it got a toe?
Not quite yet, it's an em-bry-o.
Soon it will be glad to meet us,
But for now it's just a fetus.

Why I am a crappy blogger this week

Or, What it's Like to Live with Depression

In a nutshell, this suicidal depression stuff kind of sucks. I am not a big fan of sleeping 'til 2:30 and then having to summon all my will power to physically drag myself out of bed, and the insomnia and complete lack of interest in food don't really help matters. Nor does the fact that I have some work-related stuff due early next week, which has been hanging over my head all week (finally started doing it yesterday, and a couple more hours' worth of work will finish it up, so really, it's not a big deal except for aforementioned problem summoning will power to simply get out of bed, let alone work). This op-ed piece I'm working on is going to be pretty good; I have the intro written, know what to do with the rest of it, but same willpower problem is making it very difficult to do something that should take me about half an hour if I could just think.

That feeling, the not-being-able-to-think feeling, is a real bitch, you know? It's a very odd sensation, simply not being able to focus one's mind; kind of the mental equivalent of waking up and realizing your arm has gone to sleep and you can't feel or move it. It's there, but it just doesn't work. And it's frustrating for Mr. B., too, to ask me a question and have me not hear it, or hear it and not understand that it requires a response, or understand that it requires a response but have to take a couple of minutes to process the question, the answer, and anything I might need to do to find out the answer (e.g., go find the paperwork he needs). And of course his impatience with all that is absolutely overwhelming. Hell, feeding the cat is almost overwhelming.

And of course, there's the exhaustion of fighting for benefits and appointments. I've used up my allowed annual therapy appointments, and spent much of last week fighting with the HMO and then the university benefits people to try to talk them into giving me "extra" mental health care. Got my chair involved, which managed to convince the university office to grant me a very, very generous one extra appointment. (Sarcastic) Yay! I need to call them back and see if I can actually meet with them in person, see if I can get some kind of affadavit from my therapist saying that yes, I am, in fact, crazy, and that if they don't let me keep seeing her my job performance will suffer. Again, not all that difficult--one phone call--but I'm utterly worn out from the half-dozen argumentative phone calls I had to make last week just to get to this point, and am not really looking forward to yet another go round with the run around. I also can't see my meds doc until August, only it turns out I won't be able to see him then, either, b/c I have plans to be out of town. Which I don't mind, b/c I hate my meds doc, but which also kinda sucks b/c I probably could use the meds. Then again he wants to put me on Valporic acid, which annoys me b/c I'm not bipolar, I really don't think. So maybe it's best to just avoid his crappy diagnosis, which seems to be based exclusively on my own use of the word "hypomanic" to describe the effects of being on too much Wellbutrin and going off to a conference in a much sunnier clime somewhere that is Not Here and suddenly feeling So Much Better!, rather than on any actual history of mania or hypomania or, you know, any kind of actual tracking of my moods day-to-day. Sigh. In the meantime, I've embarked on the St. John's Wort self-medicating experiment, so we'll see how that goes.

There's gotta be some kind of exit plan. We're still waiting to find out if Mr. B. will get a job offer from Big International Corporation. I'm kind of holding out hope that this will happen, because despite being clearly batshit, I'm fairly certain that if I can just get the fuck out of here, I'll feel better. In fact, I suspect that my current problems stem, in part, from the fact that it's the end of July and I am having to gear up for another semester in case it doeesn't work out. Of course, if and when the offer comes, I'll have to struggle through the awkwardness of giving last-minute notice and seeing if I can get out of here without burning every bridge I've got; not sure how well desperate, half-panicked stressmonkey me will manage to do that gracefully. Though in the end I doubt it makes much difference to my employer if I quit and move, or if I have a breakdown and go on medical leave--they'll still have to scramble to cover my courses. I suppose it's possible that I'll end up here another semester while Mr. B. trots off to start his new job. Which would be a huge financial benefit and make things easier in that sense, although which of us ends up being the single parent for three or four months, I'm not sure. If I do move with him, I'm currently enjoying a nice healthy appetizer of guilt over the fact that I won't have a job myself, and would really like to give myself a little time to get unpacked, settled, and not-suicidal before jumping right into the ol' nine to five.

But of course, worrying about that is pointless (not that that ever stops me), since who knows if it'll happen, or how. That's the rescue plan. If it doesn't come through, plan B is definitely back on the meds to get through the semester.

Help me, oh the internets

So one of the small changes post-new-template is that the headline on this post is displaying weird characters--instead of the French cedilla and the circumflex e, it's god only knows what. Strangely, the font is the same as it was before, and it displayed just fine then; and it isn't b/c of the all caps, either, b/c I tried changing that and it still displays wonky now (though it didn't before).

Anyone know what's up?

Hey all you academic types...

Head on over to Doctor Dorcasina's and congratulate her--she successfully defended her diss today.

I want this

Ok, maybe not this specific one--my experience with CafePress stuff is that it doesn't wear so well. And I think I'd leave off the "I do not consent to this search" bit, b/c the text of the amendment on its own, I think, makes the point well enough. Maybe I could make one that's silkscreened, or perhaps a nice needlepoint...

Have you seen this woman?

Latoyia Figueroa has been missing from her home in Philadelphia for ten days. She's five months pregnant and has a seven year old daughter at home. Apparently she hasn't used her bank machine card and her cell phone can't be reached. I imagine her little girl is pretty distraught.

You may have already seen this on The All Spin Zone, or Kos, or One Good Thing, or Shakespeare's Sister, or Black Feminism.org.

The All Spin Zone started it, and if you click through to his link he's also collecting funds to offer a reward for any information leading to finding her--last I checked it was up to $7,000. He's also successfully managed to get CNN to pick up the story.

Blogs are good for a lot of things; this is one of them.

@%&!?*#

The internet being a global community and all, the conventional reliance of "obscenity" laws on "community standards" is extremely problematic, no? I mean, within the community here--between four and five thousand daily readers according to statcounter, plus all of you who subscribe to RSS feeds--the word "bitch" is hardly objectionable. But I know that there are certain public libraries and other places where, I've been told, readers can't access this site, and Google ads turned me down because of "inappropriate content"--which can only mean language. The Google ads thing is, in the end, unarguable; obviously deciding not to place an ad isn't censorship. But making websites unavailable in public libraries is censorship; and while I'm not about to contact a lawyer, obviously I'd have an excellent case if I did, as clearly Bitch is not, by any stretch of the imagination, "obscene."

Apparently the Southern District of New York feels that local standards should apply to non-local speech: a reader named Jane emailed me a news story about their finding against the plaintiffs in a case arguing that the "local standards" standard suppresses freedom of online speech. The plaintiffs are, I think, correct that allowing the residents of (say) Colorado Springs to file a complaint against a website that's written by someone in (say) Los Angeles seriously inhibits protected speech. It also stretches the definition of "community" beyond what was (I would argue) obviously intended when such laws were written, which is to say, "local" community.

But even more importantly--most importantly--this problem of "community standards" violates the equal protection clause. If I live in a community that thinks all mentions of sex are obscene, do I not have, nonetheless, the right to information about sex and sexuality? Let's say I live in a community in which 95% of the residents think swearing is obscene and do not themselves ever swear. Do I not have the right, even so, to read a website about academic, parenting, feminist, and political issues simply because it has the word "bitch" in the title?

Well, apparently not. On the other hand, apparently the President of the United States has the right to flip people off on national television.

(Note to anyone who feels compelled to point out my hypocrisy in objecting to this, given that I have a little girl flipping people off in my header: for one thing, I am not the President of the United States. For another thing, I actually wouldn't give a rat's ass about the POTUS flipping the bird, except that (1) his administration and supporters like to natter on about decency and "restoring dignity to the White House"; (2) it's highly unprofessional of him--I don't flip the bird at my students when I am operating in my capacity as a professor; (3) the angry little girl clearly expresses defiance and rebellion, as Nicky pointed out in comments, against precisely the kind of arrogance, entitlement, and abuse of power that the President's gesture is expressing. In other words, the little girl has justice on her side.)

Link via The American Street.

Happy birthday, Emma Goldman

Emma Goldman reminds me that today is Emma Goldman's birthday.


Here is a lovely picture of her as a young woman, and


here is a picture of her in 1917, the year she was imprisoned for opposing the draft, and the year after she'd been arrested and jailed for distributing birth control literature. When she got out of prison, she was deported to Russia just in time for the Revolution. Here are a couple more sites about her, and the Wikipedia entry.

I love her.

Email

1. My spam filters on yahoo sometimes get a li'l wonky, and I think I accidentally deleted a few real emails. So if you sent me something in the last few days that I haven't responded to, you might want to resend it.

2. Also, apologies to those of you who've emailed me in the last month or so and not heard back. If I don't get to respond to my email right away, it tends to get buried in haloscan notifications; eventually I crawl back through and delete all the haloscan stuff and respond, so I'm not ignoring you, really, I'm just slow.

3. From my other email inbox, NARAL requests phone calls to senators tomorrow re. Roberts. I know a lot of folks think his confirmation is a done deal--hell, so do I--but a couple of phone calls tomorrow will not kill anyone, and it's important to let congress know that reproductive rights *are* a priority that the electorate (us) cares about--cares enough to make noise over. Whatever happens with Roberts, it's Congress that passes the laws that create the cases that end up before the Court. Be preemptive; let your elected representatives know that you are paying attention and willing to get involved.

Here's the email from NARAL:

This
Thursday, July 28, we're asking you to help us generate as many
phone calls as possible to the Senate. Here's what we need you
to do:

1. This Thursday, call both of your senators:
- Either call the Senate switchboard:
(202) 224-3121
- Or get your Senator's direct line:
http://www.senate.gov

2. Tell your senators you oppose the confirmation of anti-choice
nominee John Roberts.

"Hi, my name is _________ and I'm one of Senator ___________'s
constituents. I'm calling to urge the senator to oppose the
confirmation of John Roberts to the Supreme Court. I know
Roberts has led a distinguished legal career, but he also has a
clear record as a legal activist who has advocated for the
overturn of Roe v. Wade and has used public positions to further
this goal. This is in direct opposition to the position of the
vast majority of Americans and Sandra Day O'Connor's legacy. I
ask that the senator oppose any nominee who will not respect my
right to personal freedom and personal responsibility.

I'm following this issue closely and will be paying attention to
how the senator votes on this issue. Thank you for your time."

Then let us (NARAL) know you called.

Merci. Again, still writing about Ohio... hopefully back later this evening once I've got this piece punched out.

Link roundup

I'm working on writing something (other than the blog) today, so here are some interesting links for you to follow:

1. From Joanne, in comments, a really interesting story about Women's Police Stations in Brazil, set up to make it safer for women to report domestic violence. I'd never thought of something like this, but after last month's Supreme Court finding in Castle Rock v. Gonzales, the idea doesn't sound half bad.

2. From Feministing, a news story about the first man to head a women's studies department doctoral program.* I really wanted to write something longer on this, and maybe later I will, but for now, basically, I think it's a good thing. Yay Professor Allen.

3. The Misanthrope emailed me this article, reporting that Union Pacific has been ordered by a judge that it has to provide contraceptive coverage to its women employees. (If you need a password, use bugmenot.) Some interesting tidbits in there, like the pasing reference to

a 2001 federal court decision that applies only in western Washington state. In that case, female employees of a local drugstore chain won a court order requiring the company to provide contraceptive-related services to women on the same basis that it offers coverage for other outpatient services and prescription drugs.

After the 2001 decision, many U.S. companies began to offer contraceptive coverage. The decision also helped spark laws in many states requiring employers to cover the cost of birth control pills, diaphragms and other medically prescribed devices. California passed a similar law in 1999.

4. If you haven't already heard the latest on Abu Ghraib, do read this article about the photos and vidoes the government just pulled from public release--apparently they include footage of children being raped and sodomized. Nice.

5. Fantastic resource from the National Council for Research on Women: Research for Action, "a repository of factoids, fact sheets, reports, talking points, and conference proceedings. . . . Designed to expand the impact of women's research on public thinking, debate, and policy." Definitely blogrolling this.

6. Ms. Musings provides links to Feminist Court Watch, Moving Ideas's "Guide for Activists", and the National Women's Law Center's Nomination Watch.

7. Found through my sitemeter stats: American Conscience.org, apparently a roundup of sites on a wide variety of subjects--appears to be by new commenter ehj2. Definitely worth looking around this place.

8. Also through sitemeter, this infrequently-updated but very pretty blog. The author warns that "you don't really want to read this, do you?" but in fact the (amateur?) photography and brief descriptions are really kind of mesmerizing. Reminds me of Jan's Nobel Project, another calm spot in my daily blogsurfing.

Ok, now I'm off to do some more research into what the hell happened in Ohio last November.

*Someone emailed me about this error, pointing out that "there is at least one other department headed by a man, at George Washington University (which offers a Master's degree)"--thanks for the correction!

G'wan, have a li'l sweet somethin' somethin'

Fametracker's Johnny Depp vs. Chocolate has been going around--for the record, as I told Cleis, the next time Johnny Depp offers himself to me, I'll give up chocolate without a backward glance--but Lauren points to a headline that reminds us we really don't have to choose.

Bats!

While I agree with Chris that bats are, in fact, lovely creatures, I have to admit: I do not want them in my bedroom.

And yet twice in the last week, yes: rodents rodent-looking animals that are, in fact, not rodents but are probably more closely related to primates in the bedroom. ICK. The first time I heard some kind of weird rustling sound, but I figured it was squirrels in the attic or something and ignored it for a while, until suddenly I realized it was coming from the pile of magazines beside the bed, so I flipped on the light and peered, kind of suspiciosly, at the side table and OMG A RAT! So quick, I'm at the other end of the room, saying to Mr. B., "I've done my time taking care of rats, this one is yours," and down I go to have a totally freaked-out omg-there-was-a-RAT-not-a-foot-from-my-pillow! cigarette on the porch, and I hear Mr. B. calling for the cat, and then I hear the loud cat meows of joy, and then I hear Mr. B. coming downstairs and I think, jesus, he's maybe chasing the rat downstairs, I need to get away from the door!

But then he comes down, sans rat. And I asked, "what happened?" And he said, "guess what? It was a bat." "A bat?!?" says I. "Yeah," he says, "and the cat was totally freaked out, but once I realized it was a bat I caught it with a pillowcase and put it out the bathroom window upstairs, and it just flew away." "Huh," I said, "I guess I'm sorry I missed it. We need to get screens on those windows."

But what with one thing and another, we didn't get around to it for a couple of days, and I woke up the other night to Mr. B. standing on the bed with a blue towel, trying to catch a bat that was flying back and forth above my face. Eventually he managed to chase the thing out into the hall and close the door, and I fell back asleep...

The next morning, I asked, "so what happened to the bat?" "I don't know," he said, "I chased it downstairs and it disappeared." "Oh great! So there's a damn bat somewhere hiding behind a bookshelf or something?" "No," he said, "the windows downstairs are open, and they can fly out of caves--probably it found its way outside.*"

And we haven't seen it since, so I guess that's what happened. Meanwhile, Mr. B. built screens for the windows.

*The reason the bats can't fly out the upstairs windows is that they open on a hinge, from the top of the frame; so, from the pov of radar echolocation, they don't look open, unlike the downstairs windows, which have proper sashes and lift up, leaving an obviously open space below.

Welcome, new readers

Hi. I hope you'll poke around the archives, hang out in the comment threads, meet the regulars, bookmark the site, and join in the discussions.

A few explanations. This is, obviously, a feminist site; it is also leftist and, in the end, a personal site as well. If feminism pisses you off, or (after reading a couple of posts) you decide that I have my head irretrievably up my ass, it's pretty easy to go away and read something else, and that's what I expect you to do. The comments policy is right up there at the top of the first sidebar, so if you feel moved to leave a comment telling me I'm an idiot, or telling one of the regulars that he or she is an idiot, expect your comment to be deleted and, if necessary, your ip to be banned. If you are condescending, insulting, don't know the difference between a blog and usenet, or are so self-centered that you think it's your god-given right to derail comment threads onto your pet issue, you can also expect your comments to be deleted: if you have some pet issue that needs airing, go right ahead and start your own blog like everyone else.

If, however, you enjoy intelligent discussion and debate, you're most welcome here. If you dip into the comment threads, you'll see that argument and disagreement are part of the site, and that there are a number of regulars who can pretty consistently be counted on to disagree with me. ER likes to pshaw me, in a friendly sort of way; PoJ, who guest posted for a while, can usually be counted on to point out when I'm oversimplifying something; Amy is the resident semi-libertarian who likes to boil things down to the bottom line (often a bottom line that is miles away from my bottom line); tom-e-lee is the resident Republican; Phil (whose blog looks like it's on hiatus for the time being) pops in occasionally to defend the right wing, and occasionally links to my posts on abortion in order to point out how wrong I am. The site and the comment threads would be worse without them.

Basically it boils down to the importance of tone and community. If you can join in and argue as among friends, colleagues, and peers, then by all means grab a cup of coffee or a beer and pull up a chair. If you can't, though, or if you're the type of person who goes to a party and ends up joshing with the guys out back by the barbecue because you really have no interest in what the women have to say, then this isn't the place.

The regulars here are a hell of a great group, and I really value their contributions to the site. If you don't read the comment threads, you're missing half the value of the place--and as the blog owner and saloniste, it's my job to keep the conversation flowing and make sure no one breaks the furniture.

So please remove your shoes, slip on this pair of blue stockings, and come in.

Do not mess with pissed-off grannies

Statement by Raging Grannies: 9:00 am Wednesday, July 13, 2005 U.S. Army Recruiting Station, 2303 E. Speedway, Tucson, AZ

The Raging Grannies want to enlist in the U.S military forces to make possible the immediate return of all U.S. service personnel, and to set an example of what REAL diplomacy can achieve. We would meet with our counterparts in Iraq (women) and come to a mutual agreement of how best for Iraq to regain its own independence, as all U.S. troops, bases and corporations leave their country.

The Raging Grannies are angry about the U.S. maintaining a Permanent War Economy, using military might as the U.S.'s primary tool of Foreign Policy.

The Raging Grannies are angry about the U.S. military recruitment system that lies to young people about the reasons for needing more people in the military. We are angry that our young peoples’ lives are at risk for reasons that have nothing to do with defending our country.

The Raging Grannies are angry that the U.S. is using and has used quantities of Depleted Uranium weapons in Iraq, and other places in the Middle East, jeopardizing the health and environment for 4.5 billion years (providing a source for birth defects, leukemia and other adverse health effects for our own service personnel as well as innocent citizens).

The Raging Grannies are angry that the U.S. is building 14 permanent bases in Iraq. We are angry that U.S. policies are driven by fear-mongering and growing losses of First Amendment Rights. We abhor the use of torture by U.S. forces against detainees.

* The Raging Grannies firmly believe that: The Iraq invasion was planned before 9-11 as documented by the Downing Street Memos;
* The Iraq war has nothing to do with Al Quida (Saddam Hussein was not a part it);
* The Iraq war has nothing to do with Weapons of Mass Destruction;
* The Iraq war has everything to do with U.S. controlling access to Middle Eastern Oil; and that
* The Iraq war is an illegal, immoral war that has everything to do with U.S. world domination.

We insist that Recruiters tell the truth to our grandchildren who come to serve their country.

The Raging Grannies want all U.S. corporations and military personnel (official military troops and mercenaries) withdrawn from Iraq and Afghanistan as soon as possible, and that the U.S. finance the re-building of what we have destroyed, with local people doing their own re-construction work. The military bases that have been built should be turned over to the Iraq and Afghanistan people to use as they can, for whatever purposes they may have. The U.S. should spend recruitment dollars to (instead) improve education for all students, and gain a boost in our economy for this investment.

From the Arizona IndyMedia site.

Pseudonymous Kid doesn't have enough fighting toys

All he has is two swords that are plastic, two swords that are foam, one plastic knife, and one water gun. That's ALL HE HAS.

And yet, somehow, I cannot be convinced to buy him a prop knife with a blade that collapses into the handle.

Mean, hateful mama.

One more li'l thing

Yesterday in comments, Dadahead suggested that Lauren make me a favicon. Lauren's reply was that she hated doing that, and I pointed out that she had already done what I'd paid her for, and suggested--jokingly--that Dadahead make me a favicon himself.

Well shut my mouth, because he actually did it. Thanks, Dadahead!

Pseudonymous Kid explains the effects of having a stay-home dad

Pseudonymous Kid: Mama, I want a milkshake.
Me: Ok. (Going into the kitchen to make one; it is very clean, as Mr. B. cleaned it shortly before going to take a nap.) You know, you have a really good papa.
Pseudonymous Kid: I do?
Me: Yes, you do. And we should both appreciate it.
Pseudonymous Kid: Mama, do you know what McDonald's is made out of?
Me: Um.... squished McDonalds's?*
Pseudonymous Kid: No.
Me: Ok, what?
Pseudonymous Kid: It's made of bad papas who went away and left the mamas to cook dinner.
Me: Oh it is?
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes. Or else it's made of bad papas who never fed their kids anyway.

Update: Oops, I forgot the footnote! Which is funny, because I actually dreamed about forgetting a footnote on a blog post last night. Ugh. Anyway:

* We have this family joke that started because I once told PK that baby oil was made of "squished babies." So now it's kind of an ongoing thing, where PK comes up with silly things that no one makes oil out of, but that he thinks it's funny to talk about squishing--cat oil, mama oil, papa oil, etc. I thought this was part of one of those jokes, mais non.

Unveiling

Voila! A new swanky look chez Bitch. Many, many thanks to Lauren of Feministe for the design, and for her patience when I changed my mind about the title image at the last minute. Thanks also to everyone who contributed to help me pay for the new look, without whom we'd all still be suffering with the not-entirely-adequate-anymore default blogger template. I hope the result is easier on everyone's eyes, and loads reasonably quickly even for those of you suffering through dialup. Enjoy!

Heroine of the week

A great news story via misbehaving.net. Arfa Karim Randhawa is ten years old. She is also the youngest Microsoft Certified Professional in the world.



On a tour of the Microsoft campus, she met with Bill Gates. And she asked him why 75% of Microsoft employees are men.

"It should be balanced -- an equal amount of men and an equal amount of women," she explained.

I love her.

You may have noticed I'm bad at responding to memes

Often this is because I don't have much to say (e.g., the "what recent book have you read" kind of question--much to my chagrin, it seems I do not read books much any more; I mostly dip in and out of them) or else I intend to do them and then I forget. But here's one I like, because the first question speaks to a particular hangup of mine: the question of how to organize one's books (or, if you prefer, cds/records, but I'm not really a big music person, I'm sorry to say).

1. How do you organize your collection? Chronological, for the most part. Not necessarily strictly so--I'm not so anal-retentive that I check the copyright date whenever I put something back on the shelf--but it makes sense, in my mind, to shelve (say) Newton ahead of Einstein. Makes things easier to find. However, I will also sort some things (scholarly work) according to rough sub-classifications: all the Marxists together, feminist/family reference books (books about mothering, child-rearing, Our Bodies Oursleves) together, that sort of thing.

2. What books or records do you keep separate from your collection for easy access? Dictionaries, reference books, thesaruses, books about writing, style guides.

3. When you take down a book for reference, how long after you finish with it does it take you to reshelve it? Depends. If I'm literally sitting at a desk working on a specific project, and I am checking just one thing, I will probably put it back immediately. If I have to transcribe something, it'll sit on the desk for the rest of the day, maybe a few days. If it's a book I'm dipping in and out of, it'll stay there until the project is over, and for a few weeks afterwards, until I get around to cleaning off the desk. Same thing for teaching books: they tend to clutter my desk until the semester's over. I wish I kept them shelved, but I don't.

For books that I read for pleasure, they sit out forever. The pile on my bedside table is about three feet high: poetry collections, memoirs, a novel or two, a few books on feminist economics, a year's worth (more?) of the NYRB and the New Yorker, maybe a graphic novel.

4. What resource do you keep separate from your collection because you don't want anyone to know you have it? What? This makes no sense. Even my porn is shelved with all the other books. Not that I have more than a couple of books, though. I even sold my Anais Nin in the garage sale.

Permanent psychological damage achieved: that didn't take long

Earlier this morning, PK banged the back of his head on a door (he backed into it as someone else was opening it) and was very angry at me, since obviously it was all my fault because I was standing nearby at the time. He wouldn't let me look at it.

Scene: A few hours later.

Me: You know, let's look at the back of your head and see what the damage was. (Parting hair.) Wow! You really did hurt the back of your head!
Pseudonymous Kid: What happened?
Me: Well, you cut yourself, and there's a bruise, and a pretty big lump.
Pseudonymous Kid: What does it look like?
Me: You know how the cat gets owies when she gets in fights? It kind of looks like that.
Pseudonymous Kid: Can I see?
Me: I don't think so, it's in the back of your head.
Pseudonymous Kid: Maybe we can get a mirror.
Me: Yes, that's a good idea. Do you want to go upstairs now and try to see it in the bathroom mirror?
Pseudonymous Kid: No.
Me: Does it hurt?
Pseudonymous Kid: No.

(We proceed to the game where he lies on my lap, hangs his head down to the floor, and I tickle his belly.)
Me: Let's be careful and not conk your head again. (Tickles him.)
Pseudonymous Kid: Ow. That makes my head hurt.
Me: It does not.
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes it does! Everything you do makes my head hurt.
Me: Does your head hurt if I give you a hug?
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes.
Me: Does it hurt if I give you a kiss?
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes.
Me: Oh dear. I guess you are broken. We'll have to send you back.
Pseudonymous Kid: You can't send me back.
Me: Why not?
Pseudonymous Kid: Because you didn't buy me.
Me: Hmmm. That's true. I guess we're stuck with you no matter how broken you get.
Pseudonymous Kid: You have to be able to send me back!
Me: No, I can't send you back.
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes you can. There has to be a way.
Me: No, there's no way to send a kid back.
Pseudonymous Kid: Yes you can. Because I saw on Backyard Science they said there's a way to do everything.

Academic bloggerrs--blogher

Request for panelists on academic blogging at BlogHer:

Hey, I'm still looking for panelists for my thing at the BlogHer
conference, "Blogging and Academia".. I wonder if you could post on
your
blog asking if anyone wants to be on it? It's a Room of Your Own
session, 2:30-3:15. I'm looking for profs who have personal or
work-related blogs, profs, TAs, and students who use blogs for their
classes. If you could ask people to write to me if they'll be at
BlogHer,
I know it would be helpful...

Thanks!

-- badgerbag
lizzardATbookmaniacDOTnet

Permanent psychological damage averted, for now

Pseudonymous Kid: How many naughty kids are there in the world that don't brush their teeth when they're told?
Me: A lot.
Pseudonymous Kid: How many naughty kids are there in the world that don't go to bed when it's their bedtime?
Me: A lot.
Pseudonymous Kid: How many naughty kids are there in the world that are so naughty that their parents give them away to some other parents who might want them?
Me: None.

Talking points

Join the Noise alerted me to this and this--sites on the GOP website that provide writing points and talking points for party diehards (also known as trollish freaks who have nothing better to do with their time than shout the same things over and over again) to write to newspapers and/or call in to radio shows in order to disseminate the brainwashing soundbites.

Which is, as Join the Noise says, creepy as hell. But it's also probably pretty effective, and goddamnit, why doesn't the Democratic site have something like this? Which is basically what the NYT Magazine article about "framing" last weekend was all about. If I knew how to program, I'd write to them, tell them they're idiots, and then offer to generate the goddamn page for them.

In the meantime, of course, there's absolutely no reason on earth you can't use the Republican sites to generate letters that say exactly the opposite of what they tell you, or use the phone numbers they provide for talk radio shows to call in. Maybe you could even point out that you got the number from the GOP site and note that the comments of other callers are basically just them reading from the web site, and note how creepy that is.

A li'l levity

Check out Mark Fiore's latest. Warning: it has audio, so if you're at work, you might want to wait 'til you get home.

Got it over at Big Brass Blog.

Nice guys and bitchy women

I was up way too late last night reading some of the comments at Majikthise about "nice guys." The topic's been floating around (other places, too, but I can't remember where), and I'm a little behind the curve, but I figured I'd drop my two cents into the well. After all, the "why don't women like nice guys?" meme isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Before I begin, of course, mandatory disclaimer: this is just me hypothesizing based on my own dating experience and discussions with friends, so I make no claims that anything I say here is definitive. If it rings true, great; if not, oh well.

There are different kinds of nice guys.

1. The "romantic" nice guy. Personally, these guys creep me the fuck out and I've never dated one. They seem to have read the Hallmark booklet on "how to treat women," and seem to think that "women" like being swept off their feet with big showy displays of "romance" (TM)--sending flowers or gifts to your workplace or school, or showing up bearing them in hand; public declarations of love (e.g., marriage proposals in public places); teddybears as gifts; inappropriately expensive jewelry as gifts; candlelit dinners at fancy restaurants; crap like that. IME, these guys like to go on about how they "know how to treat a lady," and they treat women as if we were interchangable: all women like long-stemmed roses, all women like jewelry and teddybears, all women like being mortified in public by some guy falling on his knees in front of you and putting you on the spot. I suspect these guys are often controlling, abusive assholes, and I suspect they appeal to some women because they (the women) are used to controlling, abusive assholes and therefore don't recognize the signs that a guy isn't interested in you, personally, as a unique individual, but is instead interested in playing the role of Romantic Nice Guy who Treats his Lady Like a Princess. Or maybe they only appeal to very young women, or maybe there's something else going on that I have no clue about, because these guys don't appeal to me at all.

2. The passive / weak nice guy. These are the guys I, personally, dated a lot in high school. They tend to be pretty insecure, and sometimes you end up in a relationship with them because they just hang around a lot, and they're nice enough, and they're obviously interested in you, and you don't want to be mean and reject them, so somehow you just end up as a couple. Which is okay in high school, because what the fuck else were you doing? Nothing, and at least this way you get to learn a few things about relationships in a situation where you're really pretty much the one in control. Often these guys have been picked on a lot by other guys. The problem here is that insecure people aren't so much fun to be dating, and you get tired of being with someone who clings a little too tightly and playing the role of beard to "prove" his masculinity to other guys, and eventually it gets boring. But of course, being passive, these guys will completely ignore the warning signs, or rather they'll respond to the warning signs by becoming even more passive. So you end up breaking up with them, and then they either cringe and make themselves even more pathetic--which is even more annoying, and you end up not even being able to be friends with them ever again--or else they finally lash out and try to console themselves with thoughts of what a heinous bitch you were for not appreciating how much they loved (were dependent on) you.

3. The shy nice guy. Now, I, personally, have kind of a hard time telling (2) and (3) apart, and I suspect that the main difference only reveals itself over time--that is, you start dating a guy who seems shy, and he ends up just being weak; or you start dating a guy who seems passive, and as you get to know him better you realize he's just shy. Like the weak guys, shy men are often quite reluctant to initiate a relationship, and they also tend to be conflict-avoidant. But unlike the weak guys, they don't have some latent hostility towards women that comes from being insecure about their own masculinity; they're simply quiet and/or shy, and once you get past the initial social awkwardness they're basically pretty sure of themselves and can be perfectly fine boyfriends. I have to admit, I'm not so good with this type: I'm a little too impatient and blunt, and I'm not afraid of conflict, so I would probably just make men of this type incredibly uncomfortable a lot of the time. But I've seen them dating other friends of mine, and they seem to have a lot of virtues for women who are gentle enough not to run roughshod over them.

4. The genuinely nice guy. I strongly suspect that women never call these men "nice guys." We call them "genuinely nice guys" or "really decent men" or "the good ones" or "yeah, he's great" or "my boyfriend." Basically the key here is to have enough sense of who you are that you can deal with other people being who they are without taking every feeling your girlfriend has as a referendum on you personally. These are the guys who can listen to you bitch about something without trying to tell you what to do about it, or getting defensive, or starting to feel insecure because omg you're angry; the guys who recognize your individuality well enough that they don't hassle you with stupid teddybears but will instead give you a good book or cook you a dinner of beans and fajitas because you really love Mexican food even though they, themselves, prefer fancier fare; the guys who will go to a movie of your choosing without having to pull a bunch of tedious crap about how "all you like is chick flicks, haw haw." In other words, genuine "niceness" means a certain level of differentiation: caring about someone, but also understanding that the person you love has feelings and opinions and needs of their own that have nothing to do with you. And thinking that that's really cool, and that's why you liked them in the first place.

Part 2: bitchy women

The flip side of the "nice guy" meme is, of course, the "bitch" stereotype. I'm going to ignore the "women who like to be abused" bullshit, and also the "nice women who get overlooked" thing because I think both of those are fairly simple: "women who like to be abused" don't really exist, although women who have bad taste in men surely do; and "nice women who get overlooked" seems mostly to just mean that either the woman is either plain or pretty enough, but not "femmy," so her prettiness goes unnoticed, or else she's simply a quiet woman who goes about her own business and tends not to get boy crazy. In my experience these women don't date a lot but usually end up marrying someone who thinks they're grand. But anyway, I'm not "nice" in that way, so I don't have a lot to say about it. Instead I'll float one of my own pet theories/questions: why do so many men seem to like bitchy women?

Again, there are different things that can fall under the category of "bitchy women."

1. There are surely women who are genuinely mean people; and often these women are bitchiest to other women, but tend to play up to men, because on some level being a "bitch" is all about power. I have to admit that these kind of women don't usually piss me off quite as much as asshole guys do, because I think I get where they're coming from, and while I think that they suck, I can't bring myself to begrudge them for trying to pursue their own self-interest. Really, I think these women aren't all that bright; they may be smart enough in a clever, bookish or logical way, but their inability to empathize with others or consider the broad social complexities of power and self-advancement strikes me as a kind of blindness.

2. Women who are abusive. Nothing much to say about this; women who treat their partners and / or kids like crap suck, just the same as men like that.

3. Strong women, as we all know, all get called "bitch" sooner or later. That's the spirit in which I named the blog; and sure enough, there've been a few comments here and there, or references elsewhere on the internets, that say something like "I can see why you call yourself a bitch," usually in reference to something I said where I wasn't going to take someone else's bullshit. We all know a lot of women who will cop to being a "bitch" in this sense, and we've all heard the little jingle about how "BITCH = Babe in Total Control of Herself." The reclaiming of "bitch," I think, refers primarily to this sense: it's a preemptive move that women use to take the wind out of the misogynist sail.

4. Women who are bitchy in private relationships. This is what I'm most interested in, and I'll admit that it's because, to some extent, this is me. (4), however, is not (2); I think that (4) is actually more like a corrolary of (3), but one that often gets mistaken for (2). What I'm thinking of here--and it's not just me; I have girlfriends who would describe themselves the same way--is women who are sometimes described as "high strung" or "high maintenance" or, as Mr. B. calls me, "stressmonkeys." Up to a point, I think these women are good partners for solid, self-confident guys; we have a clear sense of boundaries, we're direct; we're not conflict-averse; we don't mess about on the borders of hinting that something's wrong--we'll come pretty straight out and let you know. But I'll admit that sometimes those skills get misapplied, and I'll end up being incredibly rigid over something that really isn't at all worth the trouble, something that's usually simply an easier-to-deal-with version of something bigger that I'm worried about. Like--and I think a lot of academics do this, perhaps especially women--my stress over "having" to work on some big research project will get channelled into having a fit over the fact that the house is untidy. I think this is often (not always, or perhaps not even usually) a problem of high-achieving women: we put very high expectations on ourselves, and we have a certain amount of anger at situations where we perceive that our achievements or efforts are undervalued (some of which, no doubt, is merely an externalization of the internal struggle between ambition and the internalized sexism that "nice girls aren't pushy"). And yet, we know that "nice girls aren't pushy"--at least, not in public--and we've seen more than enough situations where ambitious women have been crapped on for being "abrasive" or "well she should have known" or "lacking tact"--much of which simply boils down to "being a woman"--so, in public, there's this constant stress of trying to balance your ambition with not wanting to shoot yourself in the foot by admitting that you're ambitious. So, I think (and by now you're either realizing that this is an elaborate rationalization or else an elaborate piece of self-analysis--personally I think it's a bit of both) that this stress gets internalized and comes out in private relationships, as extreme impatience with partners on whom we place a lot of