still laptopless, but it's 2013, so that shouldn't stop me from writing a blog or, like, coordinating a missile strike from my phone or whatever.

I'm trying to get back into my life, bit by bit. Bear with me, okay?

1. You might be a Pharisee if . . . 

2. This made me literally laugh out loud.

3. This, on the other hand, made me want to stand on a table and cheer. But i didn't, because i was alone in my house, so that would have been weird. Actually, on reflection, i guess that would have made it less weird. Whatever. Just read it.

4. i used to think i had arrived somewhere,
until i realized there is no shore of arriving.

5. And if you're wondering how i've been the past few weeks, read this.

Ugh. Tuesday.

1. This story has been really important to me in the last few years. I don't think i really have a grasp on it yet, but i keep running into it again and again.

"'Let’s not forget that Jesus told that woman to go and sin no more,' Christians like to say when they're afraid this grace thing might get out of hand. 

Lord have mercy.  

Of all the people in that story, we’ve gone and decided we’re the most like Jesus."

2. This was on Time's list of the 25 best blogs. It's all about linguistics and etymology. I love it.

"Botuliform, dear reader, means sausage-shaped, and if you can't drop it into conversation in the next twenty-four hours then you're not having the right kind of conversations."

3. Here's a fun post about how Shakespeare was talentless.

4. I can't wait to have a classroom to hang Oatmeal posters in.

5. This is how i feel every Tuesday.

6. Okay, i know that everyone and their Aunt Sally linked to this last week, but just in case you are also coming late to the party, allow me to catch you up: ballet dancers in random situations.

blocked

It's been a tough few months for writing.

I thought i had an artist for my comic book, but she's realized she's too busy to commit to this project and has gracefully backed out. I'm not mad at her or anything, and i completely understand (and was half-expecting) her refusal, but it's still really disappointing.

My workshop group hasn't met in ages. We kept getting delayed by various things: work commitments, school, migraines, lack of new things to review, weather disasters, holidays, and so on and so forth. I really miss that weekly gathering of creative intellectuals, as well as the motivation of a deadline.

I found a journal of women's environmental poetry that was looking specifically for prose poems, and i was all geared up to send them a submission, when i realized there was a reading fee to do so. Never send out anything you have to pay for; there's no guarantee of publication, and there are plenty of places that are more than happy to reject you for free. Hypothetically.

There's a lot of really emotional stuff happening for me right now, but it's happening right now, so it's hard to write about it clearly.

Since discovering Netflix, i'm much less inclined to sit reading or writing in the evenings, and much more inclined to knit and binge-watch Dr. Who. Which, while good for my knitting projects, is bad for my writing.

But.

Two of my roommates have moved out, and have been replaced by only one person. And it is absolutely worth the $100/month increase in rent to reclaim a little more peace, stability, and room in the house. We are hanging superhero posters in the hallway and organizing a library/bar/office in the corner room. The one with roof access.

I've been living in a nest for two years because i was too afraid to put my things in the house, because of what might happen to them. There also wasn't a lot of room, with four people crammed into a three-bedroom apartment. Now i'm de-cluttering my room and living like a human adult, instead of a magpie. My desk is in the library bar, in front of a window, with elephants and pictures of Boyfriend and Christina Hendricks for inspiration.

I have a shiny new phone that i mostly don't hate. (I've been resisting the smartphone upgrade since the debut of the Blackberry, but there's no escape now. The Samsung Galaxy Stellar, however, isn't terrible. If i have to have a smartphone, i'm glad i got this one.)

I have a nerdy friend who is going with me to the Neil Gaiman reading and signing this weekend. I am going to the Neil Gaiman reading and signing this weekend.

I have another nerdy friend who wants to have a sewing and cooking and drinking date with me soon. I'm really excited at the prospect of getting back into sewing.

I have a sexy, smart, caring, wonderfully weird boyfriend who snuggles me and is patient with me and goes on adventures with me and helped me make sangria last week. (My sangria recipe is amazing, by the way. I'll have to post it some time.) Sometimes i write terribly sappy poems about him and then send them to him through snail mail. Isn't that so cute you want to vomit?

I have, like, six different jars of fancy honey in my kitchen waiting for me to eat them. I also have an ice cream maker. I see honey-sweetened ice cream in my future.

I have Netflix! And tons of yarn! And, currently, not a lot going on in my life! This equals SWEATERS!!! It doesn't get much better than handmade sweaters in New England. (Unless, of course, it's July and they keep posting heat advisories. But i'll be glad of them in the winter, which is probably when they'll be finished, anyway.)

I have an awesome tattoo idea that will, someday, when i have money again (when i die), be an awesome tattoo.

I got fan-ish mail yesterday.

My cat is super cute.

slutty sluts, pubes, and babies eating lemons

1. This is so accurate it's almost not even funny. Almost: The Comment Section for Every Article Every Written About Intimate Grooming

2. This was a really important epiphany for me today.

3. Birth control is such a touchy subject in America, even in this day and age. Just a few weeks ago, i heard someone call "keeping a nickel between your knees" contraception. If dumb nasty slutty sluts could just keep their legs closed and not murder their tiny innocent babies, we'd all be better off, and if you want to take my tax dollars to pay for some slutty slut's sinful choices, you'll have to pry the cash out of my cold, dead hands!

Except that "Family planning could prevent up to 30 percent of the more than 287,000 maternal deaths that occur every year, by enabling women to delay their first pregnancy and space later pregnancies at the safest intervals. If all babies were born three years apart, the lives of 1.6 million children under the age of five would be saved each year.

"That's a lot of children's lives.

"At home in the US, a study conducted among people most likely to get abortions has found . . . that free birth control dramatically cuts the rate of abortion:

"4.4 to 7.5 abortions per 1,000 women in the study, compared with 13.4 to 17 abortions per 1,000 women overall.

"For me, these are compelling reasons to consider widely accessible subsidized birth control as a moral imperative: It saves lives -- lots of them, and allows for the flourishing of those lives. That's why it's been written into laws, and funded by taxes."

Birth control is not just about nasty slutty sluts being sinful and slutty. It's also about a responsible, married couple who have a decent annual income and one baby, but want to wait a little while before they have another baby, to make sure they can still budget for their family in an uncertain economy, and to give them lots of time to figure out this whole parenting thing while they're still stacked 2-1, but they're young and in love and can't keep their hands off each other. It's about a woman with health issues that demand treatment (such as chemotherapy or antidepressants) that may be harmful to a baby, or a couple who has trouble conceiving and who has suffered one too many miscarriages and wants a break from that pain for a while, or a rape victim who doesn't want to have to choose whether or not to keep her rapist's baby. And yes, it's also about the slutty sluts, because this is America, and everyone can make their own choices, even if you disagree, even if they are wrong. (Plus, sluttiness is just so much fun).

The reality is, you can't control everyone's behavior, and there simply aren't enough nickels or aspirins in the world to keep everyone's knees together, especially the teenagers and young adults and regular adults and even old people who aren't even your kids or part of your church, and whose choices you therefore have absolutely no sway over. The reality is, you have to choose which is less objectionable: lots of women having lots of abortions, or almost no one even having to make that choice. Birth control SAVES LIVES. If you oppose abortion, the only sane position is to make sure that safe and effective birth control is available to everyone. Even if they need to take your tax dollars to fund it.

4. I'm pretty sure i don't want any babies myself (and certainly not for another ten years or so), because of reasons. But then i see something like this, and i want ALL THE BABIES. But just for a few hours, and then i want to send them home where someone else can change their diapers for the third time in an hour or try to get them to stop crying at 3 am or spend thousands of dollars on absurdly tiny shoes and sun hats and winter coats. I just want to play with them and feed them lemons.

5. I really, really, really, really, really wish i'd had this Barbie to play with when i was a kid.

colin you're like freaking me out

1. I'm freaking out right now

2. There are SO many good things here, but quoting them all would be lazy. Go read the article in full. 

"When we talk of saving oneself for marriage as an act of self-control, we necessary (sic) posit those who do not wait as unable or less able to control themselves. In doing so, we remove from them the idea that they make the decision to have sex of their own volition. It prevents those who do not wait from owning their decisions -- and thus understanding themselves as sexual beings capable of autonomy and consent, rather than souls who just temporarily lost control of their bodies.

This, to me, is where the post-evangelical discussion of self-control fails. Having premarital sex still, in this mindset, ends up being categorized as a failure of holiness, as a failure of one's will or relationship with God, which prevents the experience from being something in which one can learn about one's self and one's wants and desires and pleasures. It necessarily demonizes the flesh (and therefore one's sexuality) by making it into something that must be tamed rather than something that must be understood. Instead of framing the experience in a positive - 'Why did I make that choice and what can I learn about myself from it? Was it healthy?' - it necessarily interjects a negative - 'Failed to control myself again.'"

3. God, i love Cracked. Here's a hilarious and insightful article about how men screw themselves over in romantic situations.

"One of the weirdest things about high school is that they don't teach you the really important shit that you need in order to survive. We spent so much time in health class learning how to prevent teenage pregnancy and crotch diseases that we didn't realize until long after we'd graduated that they never showed us how to go about it when we were old enough to actually want that stuff that biology was pressing for.

Not the fucking. That's not what this article is about. I'm talking about all the stuff that leads up to it. Meeting the right person, how to approach them, what to say, how to present yourself. The most basic part of any relationship: finding someone. Because, let's be honest here, if you came into this article hoping it would answer your question of 'Why won't this bitch fuck me?' you have several stages of growing up to do before you're even mature enough to handle the discussion, let alone the woman."

4. There is still a LONG way to go before Exodus International can repair the damage they've done. But this and this are good first steps.

"From a Judeo-Christian perspective, gay, straight, or otherwise, we're all prodigal sons and daughters. Exodus International is the prodigal's older brother, trying to impose its will on God's promises, and make judgments on who's worthy of His kingdom. God is calling us to be the Father -- to welcome everyone, to love unhindered."

Ten points if you get that reference.

1. I also hate mayonnaise, and i can't wait to make this potato salad! (Side note: i have a bizarre desire to make my own mayonnaise some day. I don't understand why. Though i've been told that comparing homemade mayo to store bought is like comparing homemade chocolate chip cookies from scratch to stale sugar-free store-brand chocolate-flavored chip cookies.)

2. I waffle a little with Sarah Bessey. She has amazing stories to tell, and you can't deny her talent, her voice. But sometimes she's a little too sappy and feelings-y for me. Just personal taste.

Other times, however, that sappy feelings-y nonsense taps deep into something unexpected, and i find myself sitting at my desk, holding back tears. This is one of those.

"What is there to say? What can we do but huddle into rows of chairs, and clutch our hearts, and sob into our shredded balled-up tissues? What can we do but stand around and drink juice, red-eyed and hicupping? We'll sign up for a few meals when what we really want to do is lay out on the floor, beside you, and cry until we're empty because what else? There aren't old stories to tell, no laughter breaking through the sorrow. This is lamentation. I am fumbling for hope. Is there really comfort in the idea of a baby in the arms of Jesus when all we want is for that baby to be in the arms of his broken mama? . . .

God has asked too much of us."

3. So i've been on this whole get healthy kick this year, right? I want to be less jiggly, and have more energy, and generally feel happier and healthier in my skin, right? And then i read this article on Cracked, and i remember that terrible quote (i think from Kate Moss?): Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. And i think, skinny can't possibly feel good enough to make any of that go down easily. Also, bacon. It's just not worth it.

4. I'm a white woman, so i can't really comment meaningfully on the Black Male Code, but i thought that this was a fascinating read. And, based on stories i've read and people i've talked to, this sounds like depressingly good advice.

"I thought my son would be much older before I had to tell him about the Black Male Code. He's only 12, still sleeping with stuffed animals, still afraid of the dark. But after the Trayvon Martin tragedy, I needed to explain to my child that soon people might be afraid of him.

I was far from alone in laying out these instructions. Across the country this week, parents were talking to their children, especially their black sons, about the Code. It's a talk the black community has passed down for generations, an evolving oral tradition from the days when an errant remark could easily cost black people their job, their freedom, or sometimes their life."

5. Patton Oswalt is freaking amazing. I've been thinking about this letter all weekend and will likely continue to ponder it for a long time.

6. Okay, seriously, Hayley Campbell? I love her.

"I think Pumping Iron -- and I don't think I'm alone here -- is one of the greatest films you can watch in nine parts on YouTube. For starters there's Arnold Schwarzenegger, all smiles and absurd accent, being genuinely charming but mostly weird in tiny underpants."

Humorous writing, just like all other forms of artistic expression, is partly art and partly science. The science part -- knowing how to set up a joke, knowing how to structure the punch line, knowing what should follow the punch line? Hayley has a Ph.D. in that science. She also has the raw talent to pull of the "art" part. And she apparently lives a life of absurdity and adventure (and normal, banal things like going to the gym) which is rife with material. I seriously love her. Hard.

1. I know it's become almost trendy recently to hate on denominations, to say that we shouldn't put up divisions between one another and that we are all one body in Christ, and i agree to an extent. But then i read things like this and think, "Differentiated instruction is a good thing." I still think we need to do things together, so that we can be reminded that "other" does not equal "wrong" or "lesser" or otherwise bad, but i don't think it's a bad thing to say, "I like contemplative prayer and long services with lots of space for meditation and quiet, and you like praying in tongues and energetic services with dancing and shouting and call-and-response, and it's okay for us to worship separately." Of course, most denominations aren't divided this way, but wouldn't it be cool if they were? Wouldn't it be great if we made room for differences without building fences and alienating?

"All my life, I've just assumed that everyone else had maps of the year in their head that may/may not be similar to mine. It never occurred to me that something so basic as how one sees the calendar year could vary so much in between people. Within a few seconds this morning, my entire world shifted and grew larger.

Perhaps part of the issue of continuing disagreement in human life and, more narrowly, the church isn't necessarily chalked up to the theodicy explanation of "brokenness" and "sin," but to the simple fact that some people literally see the world differently. People literally experience God in different ways."

2. This was SO interesting to read. I love how Rachel always allows for so many voices, and so many points of view. It's so refreshing to see a bunch of smart, thoughtful people tackle a problem (especially such a sticky [no pun intended] issue as masturbation), and to see that all of them have come to different perspectives and still love and respect one another.

3. If you don't spend a lot of time in churchy circles, you're probably not familiar with conversations about "biblical inerrancy", and can therefore ignore this link. But if you do, this post may help you clarify some of your thoughts.

"You see, it's ok to believe that Noah's ark was filled with all the animals on earth when you're 5 years old, and then change your mind when you realize the physical impossibility of that when you're an adult, but still have faith in that story. Why? Because the truth of Noah's ark is not found in zoological arrangements. It's found in the message of a God who watches over and cares for His creation even in the midst of a storm."

4. Okay, when i read this, i kind of felt like someone had been reading my diary and posting it on the internet. Except that i don't really keep a diary anymore; it's pretty much been replaced by this blog. But still. This is so much of what i've been thinking and feeling about God in the past few years.

"Scripture references and sound logic are dangerous when the God they paint is a monster.

Words about God are heavy. Don't sling them about carelessly."

5. I don't just read about theology and feminism, FYI. I also read hysterically funny essays about home taxidermy.

"In order to fully explain what went wrong, in stages, I would have to look up the thesaurus entry for 'inexpertly' and then deploy every word listed and that would getting boring, so let's just say: I did some crimes.
. . .
You watch how their legs fit together, how their wings don't go like how you made them go like when you got all excited while stuffing that duck. One day you might notice one of them dead on the grass. In real life . . . (We could pretend this is hypothetical but obviously that would be lying.)
. . .
I wanted to explain but I was too embarrassed. I used words like "time sensitive delivery" and "awkward" and "no really". I envisioned a pair of mouldering squirrels in a bloated parcel in the Post Office depot with my name on them. Literally with my name on them. I further envisioned myself marching back to the Post Office with the unopened package and returning to sender. 'DEAR P STAINES,' began the letter in my head. 'UMM.'"

6. I am neither gay nor Mormon but this still made me tear up big time.

"I told her that some people are taught that [being gay is] wrong and don't want to believe differently. And that this parade was to celebrate the fact that being gay is no more a mark of one's character than being straight. She nodded and then asked, "Is there going to be candy?"

7. Oh God. I had so many of these conversations with my parents. In fact, over Christmas, i had them again. I am twenty-three years old and my parents still feel like they can and should comment on my size. (NB: Let me just say that my parents are awesome and affirming in many ways, but fat shaming is so deeply ingrained into the collective consciousness that even awesome people don't think twice about saying, "You've gotten bigger and should get smaller again. Let me give you some tips.")

8. It sucks, but sometimes we are just stuck with our feelings for a while. That's just kind of how it works.

ladybusiness and hilarity

1. So, i have a confession to make: i am in love.

I don't remember now how i first found Lucy Knisley. I know it had to do with her most recent book, Relish, and that i quickly put all of her books on my Amazon wishlist, along with a few of her iPhone cases. Her iPhone cases were instrumental in my decision to get an iPhone, which i probably will soon, maybe. I'm torn between her Wonder Women and St. Julia designs, and if they weren't so darned expensive, i'd buy both. But maybe i'll ask for them for Christmas or birthday presents.

Anyway, this whole post could easily become about Lucy Knisley, so let me just share one of my favorite .gifs that she created to celebrate the fourth season of Arrested Development (yeah, she's a fan. Like i said, i'm in love.)

2. Have you ever read the letters people write to advice columnists and wondered, "What answer are they hoping for? And how did 'Abby' make it all the way through her response without once using the phrase 'monumentally thunderous stupidity'?" The answer to your second question is, Abby is a pro. Or at least her editor is. The answer to your first question is this tumblr.

3. Here's a thoughtful essay about how much it sucks when a guy puts a girl in the "girlfriend zone":

"I must say that I find this really unfair. I mean, I'm a nice girl. I have a lot to offer as a friend, like not being a douchebag and stuff. But males just don't want to be friends with nice girls like me. They can't help it, I guess; it's just how they're wired, biologically. Evolution conditioned our male hominid ancestors to seek nice girls as mates and form friendship bonds only with the other dudes that they hunted mammoths with. It's true -- I know this because I studied hominids in my fifth-grade science class."

4. Yes.

5. This is worth reading, even if only for the kick-ass illustrations. But the words are pretty kick-ass too.

"'Women have always fought,' he said. 'Shaka Zulu had an all-female force of fighters. Women have been part of every resistance movement. Women dressed as men and went to war, went to sea, and participated actively in combat for as long as there have been people.'

I had no idea what to say to this. I had been nurtured in the U. S. school system on a steady diet of the Great Men theory of history. History was full of Great Men. I had to take separate Women's History courses just to learn about what women were doing while all the men were killing each other. It turned out many of them were governing countries and figuring out rather effective methods of birth control that had sweeping ramifications on the makeup of particular states, especially Greece and Rome.

Half the world is full of women, but it's rare to hear a narrative that doesn't speak of women as the people who have things done to them instead of the people who do things."

6. This is two weeks old and it's still making me tear up.

7. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can make me think I deserved it."

8. For those of you (like my brother) who have apparently lost the ability to detect sarcasm, let me make this clear: the following excerpt, as well as the whole post, are sarcastic and joking. She actually is a good mom who cares about her kids. If you don't believe me, read her three recent posts about adoption ethics (yeah, two of her kids are adopted).

"Teachers, we need to make a deal that after April testing, we don't have to do anything else. You don't. I don't. I don't care if you watch movies in class five days a week and take four recesses a day. I mean, Caleb had to bring an About Me poster with five school days left in the year. In September, this might have produced something noteworthy, with pictures perhaps, even some thoughtful components to describe his winning qualities, but as we've used up all our bandwidth, we yanked trash out of our actual trash can, glued it to a poster, and called it a day. I am not exaggerating when I tell you this is the very most we can do on May 29th."

Proverbs 19-31, Ecclesiastes 1-12, Song of Solomon 1-8, Isaiah 1-4

Proverbs 20:5
Counsel in the heart of man is like deep water,
But a man of understanding will draw it out.

This is such a beautiful image. I think even if i weren't a Christian, i'd love the Bible for its brilliant metaphors.

Proverbs 25:17
Seldom set foot in your neighbor's house,
Lest he become weary of you and hate you.

As an introvert, i may have just found my life verse.

Ecclesiastes 11:3-8
If the clouds are full of rain,
They empty themselves upon the earth;
And if a tree falls to the south or the north,
In the place where the tree falls, there it shall lie.
He who observes the wind will not sow,
And he who regards the clouds will not reap.

As you do not know what is the way of the wind,
Or how the bones grow in the womb of her who is with child,
So you do not know the works of God who makes all things.
In the morning sow your seed,
And in the evening do not withhold your hand;
For you do not know which will prosper,
Either this or that,
Or whether both alike will be good.

Truly the light is sweet,
And it is pleasant for the eyes to behold the sun;
But if a man lives many years
And rejoices in them all,
Yet let him remember the days of darkness,
For they will be many.
All that is coming is vanity.

The word in Ecclesiastes, translated here as "vanity", has been translated into a different word or phrase in pretty much every version of the Bible that exists. Some get closer than others, but none really hit the target. But i think this whole passage here does a pretty good job of explaining the concept: Things happen as they happen. The world keeps turning. There are cycles and patterns to life. Do your best with what you have and know that nothing lasts.

I'd also love to forcibly tattoo this passage on the chest of anyone who comments on tragedies, especially natural disasters, by suggesting that they were "God's wrath" for the sins of those affected. If the clouds are full of rain,/They empty themselves upon the earth. That's just how it works. We don't know the way of the wind or the works of God, so we sow our seeds. Life goes on.

numbers now? yes.

1. Oh, Cosmo. I stopped reading Cosmo when i realized that, far from the hundreds of brand-new sex tips promised on every cover, they really only have about six and rotate them with slight variations. (Suck on a piece of ice before giving oral! Suck on a Popsicle before giving oral! Chew a piece of ice before giving oral!) Also, brand-new sex tips? Something tells me that as long as there has been ice, people have been bringing it into the bedroom. Because if there is one area of scientific exploration that refuses to be held back by lack of government funding, it's ways to make your genitals feel good.

Here's a beautiful analysis of Cosmo's bizarre stance on human (wait, not human, female) sexuality:
"Your fantasy: Watching two women get it on
Why it revs you up: You know what it's like to be a woman but have no idea what a man experiences. So with only females in the picture, every kiss, touch, and lick is something you can relate to. Plus, girl-on-girl action is usually portrayed as more sensual.
Remember, kids, there's no such thing as bisexuality! Hell, I'm not sure there's such a thing as female sexuality at all; are you, like, attracted to people? That's pretty gross.

How to use it: To get more sensual lovin' from your guy, set the scene for it: Put on slow tunes, light a candle, and slip into delicate lingerie. He'll get the message that you want to take things slow.
That's right, kids, when you feel attracted to women, the best way to explore that desire is with a man. That'll keep ya on the straight and narrow.

Also note Cosmo's continuing dedication to not saying anything, but conveying the message entirely through set design and costuming. Because, let's face it, most guys would be pretty turned off by their girlfriend whispering in their ear, "I had a fantasy about two women and tonight you're going to do me nice and slow while I tell you allllll about it."

2. I'm honestly not sure what the point of this image is supposed to be. It's tagged "funny pictures"? I don't get it. But i do think it's interesting, for two reasons: look at the food in Mexico, Italy, and Australia, and compare it to the food in Britain, the US, and Germany. What i see in Mexico, Italy, and Australia is lots and lots of fresh produce (and in Australia, an unholy amount of red meat), compared to the huge piles of packages in Britain, the US, and Germany. Canada is almost entirely fresh food (including a whole fresh fish; no frozen fillets here, apparently!), Japan is mostly packages, and so forth. The second thing i notice is amounts. The family in Chad is six people with three large bags of what looks like grains, several smaller bags of what i guess are spices, and maybe half a gallon of water. Fifteen people in Mali have maybe twice as much food as the family in Chad, but it looks like they have more variety and maybe some fresh fruit. The family in Turkey, on the other hand, is only six people with two or three times as much food as the family in Chad, and it's almost entirely fresh fruit and vegetables. There's no caption or accompanying article, so i'm not totally confident in the take-away, but it is something to think about.

And on a totally unrelated note, i like that the family in Japan is watching TV.

3. If you have a few minutes (or hours, maybe) to kill, play with this website. It's mesmerizing, and after a few minutes you feel like a world-class artist.

4. Hey, look! Rape prevention advice that contains zero victim-blaming!

5. My whole perspective on gender has undergone a massive shift in the last few years. It's probably not done, because guess what? I'm a person, and we're allowed to learn new things and have new experiences and then change our minds based on that new knowledge. But right now, this is making a lot of sense to me.

"Imagine a big table with tons of dishes laid out. Some of them are physical traits, some of them are psychological. There's everything here from "big biceps" to "played with dolls as a child." And there are all traits here, not just things you'd associate with gender -- this is a table of traits, not of mixed up boy things and girl things. "Brown hair" and "likes classical music" are on there too.

Go ahead, load up your plate. Load it with anything.

And the really important thing here is that the dishes are not paired off. "Chest hair" and "breasts" are not a dichotomy. You can get one, or both, or neither. Ditto "watches pro wrestling" and "sews prom dresses". Certainly some dishes are popularly eaten together -- "penis" and "testicles" is a perennial favorite combo, and "penis" and "likes racecars" do seem to have some mysterious association -- but they're not locked together. It's possible and acceptable to have one and not the other."

6. I would watch the fuck out of these shows. Actually, i think "Bob Loves Luisa" is "Modern Family", and i do indeed watch the fuck out of that. Read the comments for even more awesome TV show ideas.

"In this hilarious family sitcom, the husband and wife genuinely understand and want to work with each other. One of their children is very intelligent and the other is very creative, and Bob and Luisa encourage them both to do what they love! Dramatic conflict arises from temporary misunderstandings and outside challenges, and is resolved through open -- but wacky -- communication and teamwork! Also there is a goofy next-door neighbor.

7. Allie Brosh is one of the best people in the world. Like, better than your mom, probably. I've been reading her blog, Hyperbole and a Half, for several years now. In October of 2011, she wrote a hilarious and touching (and slightly troubling) post about depression. And then she disappeared from the Internet. A post showed up on Reddit at one point where she explained that she was taking some time to get better and would be back when she could.

Finally, last week, she had healed enough to get back to work.

On a human level, i am so very proud of her for all the hard work she has done in her life. Being depressed is hard. Stopping being depressed is even harder. She is an incredible person, and i am so glad that she exists in my lifetime, that she has worked so hard and come so far. She is an inspiration to us all, and it is amazing to know that a human being can be as wonderful as she is.

On a personal level, HYPERBOLE AND A HALF IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! With her trademark absurdist wit and wonderfully shitty artwork, Allie has chronicled her recent struggles. These posts should be taught in psych classes for all of eternity.

The part that resonated most with me was the fish metaphor.

"It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared."

common theme: rape? and sexual orientation? the two are unrelated, unless you are a bigot.

When i was a freshman, i took a public speaking course. One of our assignments was to give a persuasive speech on a controversial topic. I can't for the life of me remember what i chose; probably something about feminism? Anyway. Several people spoke on gay rights, particularly gay marriage and don't ask, don't tell. One young man in the class was vehemently and vocally opposed to the very idea of gay soldiers.
"My dad was in the army," he said. "Those guys do everything together. They change together, shower together, spend every minute of the day together. I don't like the idea that someone who could be attracted to me might be in that environment."
Let's leave aside the non sequitur of his father's years of service. Let's also leave aside the issue of women in the service. And finally, let's ignore the fact that many, many, many, many women, both civilians and soldiers, have experienced all manner of sexual harassment and assault at the hands of men in uniform. Instead, let's address his unshakable belief in two things: all gay men are automatically attracted to all penises, and no gay man is able to control his sexual impulses. Because obviously, never in the history of the world has a gay man been able to look at any man (in any state of dress or undress, alertness or vulnerability, position of authority or position of subordination, homosexual or heterosexual, attractive or ugly, attached or single,) and thought, "Meh, not for me." To be gay means to be so strongly attracted to all penises everywhere that you cannot help but touch them, even if they belong to your boss; or your straight, married, best friend; or a really ugly, rude, obnoxious, bigoted guy with terrible personal hygiene; or a nice, single, attractive, gay man with a great personality who just doesn't like you that way. Obviously.
An entry in Cliff Pervocracy's archives addresses the issue of sexual abuse and harassment on the job.
"And I'll tell you a personal story: back when I worked 24-hour shifts, I shared a very small quarters with three people who were attracted to my gender. We slept together, shared a bathroom, and frequently changed clothes in front of each other. If I didn't want to sleep next to someone whose orientation made them potentially aroused by my gender, I'd have to sleep out in the truck . . .
Of course some female EMTs do face abuse. What if they had harassed me? Then the problem would be the harassment. "He was all heterosexual at me" isn't a complaint; it's "he was all disrespectful and abusive at me." It'd be nice to ban abusers from service but unfortunately we rarely ask and they never tell . . .
(Or, following the logic often used to exclude women, ban heterosexuals. They're the ones with the problem, right? Some hetero gets his boxers in a twist and files a frivolous complaint and your whole career goes down the tubes, I tell ya.)"

One of the finest features on Pervocracy has GOT to be Cosmocking. Here are some gems from an entry in April 2010 about avoiding rape on road trips:
"If you are taking a long trip and will need to stop for fuel after dark, go to websites like exxonstations.com/locator to find full-service stations along your route. That way, you can stay in your car with the doors locked.
There are several insane paranoid precautions you should take specifically when doing anything after dark. Apparently rapists are vampires.

When you're shopping at night, or if the lot looks eerily empty, ask store personnel for a security guard to walk you to your car. If there isn't one available, keep a hand free of packages as you walk to your car, and stay in the middle of the parking-lot aisle, away from vehicles, where criminals might be hiding.
Apparently rapists are funhouse vampires, and they operate by jumping out and going "boogy boogy boogy!" . . .
[If your car breaks down] While you wait for help to arrive, do not under any circumstances get out of your car; roll up your windows, lock the doors, and stay inside.
For fuck's sake. Is air toxic to women? I don't know about rapists; this is how I would act if there were velociraptors outside the car."

My introduction to Jennifer Knapp came from WOW 2001 (shut up; it played in the Christian music store where i worked). Her song "Into You" was something entirely new in Christian music. I knew the Point of Grace/Avalon/Petra/Michael W. Smith worship choruses, the Anne Murray hymns, and i was learning about Contemporary Christian Music for the Jesus Youths: DC Talk, Switchfoot, Superchic[k], KJ52, and so forth.
But i had never heard a voice like Jennifer's.
I had heard music that was immediately identifiable as Christian, and i had heard music that you could play at Youth Group OR under the credits of a popular movie or TV show (Switchfoot, i'm looking at "Dare You To Move"). It was in the 90s and early 2000s that young Christian artists began to simply write songs from their hearts, instead of trying to write "church music" (Keith Green and Amy Grant aside). There were still musicians who were trying to hit a particular target, but artists like Jennifer wanted to make art and trusted that God would speak to people through it, just like He has for the past several millennia.
"Into You" remained my only Jennifer Knapp exposure until 2010, when i learned that she had 1. temporarily quit music to spend some time in obscurity and personal growth, 2. just come out as a lesbian who had been in a same-sex relationship for many years, and 3. ended her "retirement" by releasing a new album about her feelings (both about her partner and about Jesus and the Church). I read several interviews, impressed by her reticence and discretion about her personal life, touched by the pain and anger she had felt and expressed, and wishing desperately that the interviewers would stop asking about her girlfriend and start talking about her music, because every time they did i became a bigger fan or Jennifer Knapp. I downloaded the new album and fell in love.
Three years later, she talked to Rachel Held Evans and her fans, and that interview has forever cemented Jennifer's place in my heart. Because not only is she a brilliant and talented musician, but her heart for God is amazing, and she says some stuff that i've been feeling and have been struggling to articulate. I wish i had enough skin to tattoo her words on my body:

". . . If I understand correctly, your journey took you to a point where you now own the fact that you can't not be gay and you can't not be Christian. For the second part of that - What were some of the moments, the thoughts, the experiences that brought you to the point of claiming your faith as a Christian?

There are times in our lives where we are witness to certain events and happenings that radically alter how we will move about our world. We have experiences where we are forever changed in how we see the world around us, how we see ourselves and how we will react in navigating our individually unique journeys. I am grateful that the Gospel spoke to me in such a way. I saw, I experienced, I left altered by a grace that I knew I could never merit nor repay. To this day, my life has never been the same.
Try as I might, the message of Christ continues to inspire and move me, even when no one is looking, even when others insist that I am "doing it wrong" or not acting 'Christian enough'. Being in a church every Sunday isn't why I identify as Christian . . .
Over the years I have continued to question what calling myself a 'Christian' implies. There's a lot to unpack there in terms of religion, tradition, history, theology -- but honestly, in the end, it doesn't matter what anyone calls me. I am and continue to be inspired by my experience with Christ. No one can take that away."

Pervocracy should just write articles taking down other articles. Because seriously? there's a lot of bullshit that needs to be deconstructed, and she does it so well and so hilariously. Here's a takedown of the idea that women "withhold" sex as punishment when men hurt their feelings.
"Some women make a habit of withholding sex from their partners, while some only do it under very specific circumstances. To men, this seems like cruel and unusual punishment.
Some women have sex very often, while others prefer to have sex less often. To men who think everything is about them, this seems like it's all about them . . .
Personally, I've never withheld sex in a relationship, because I couldn't withhold it from myself, but I've turned down sex, um, ones of times! For reasons that had to do with both my partner and myself . . . If I'm not fucking you because I'm unhappy, the main problem is the unhappiness; the fucking problem is only a symptom . . .
When I'm angry at you, I don't want to have you inside my body. This is not some ultimate cruelty that I'm "not above" . . .
Again, ugh, "sex privileges." It's not like I can just hand you the key. I have to be there the whole time and everything."
That last line is one of Pervocracy's greatest contributions to the discussion of "sexual rights": if a guy is hitting on me and i turn him down, i'm not just denying him sex. I'm also denying myself sex. It's not like i can just unscrew my vagina and hand it to him for the night. If he wants to have sex with me, that means i have to have sex with him, too.
Many men (and women! Example: Cosmo) seem to forget this, and talk about sex as a commodity that women hold. Women can choose to give their sex to men or to deny their sex to men. There is little or no discussion of women wanting sex, women pursuing sex, women being "denied" sex, or women actually "having sex with men". Sex is not something women have, it's something they give or keep. And of course there is little or no discussion of women having sex with each other; lesbians are an invention of porn and Katy Perry designed to give sexual pleasure to men. And women do not want sex because they like the sex itself, they want sex because they love their husbands or boyfriends and want to please them, or because it's the third date and they want to turn these guys into their husbands or boyfriends, or because they want a promotion or raise, or because they want attention and affection, or because their biological clocks are ticking and they want babies. Women choose to give men sex for one of these reasons, and they choose to withhold it because they are cranky, or they have a headache, or whatever.
Here's the thing: sex is something that two people do together. Rape is something that one person does to another person. If you want to talk about rape, we can talk about rape, and we can talk about how you can rape my vagina without my consent or enjoyment. In that case, you get laid and i do not. So me denying you sex? Is me denying you rape. But me deciding that i don't really feel like having sex with you? Is me deciding that I do not want to have sex. And maybe it's because i already have a boyfriend and you're not him, or maybe it's because i'm on my period, or maybe it's because you are unattractive to me, or yeah, maybe it's because i'm cranky or have a headache or whatever. But at the end of the day, if i am not having sex with you, it's not because i hate you and want to prevent you from getting laid. It's because i do not want to have sex. So men: stop whining about how women won't let you have sex with them, and start figuring out how you can make women want to have sex with you (hint: more hygiene and fewer rape threats will go a long way).

so much ladybusiness

I've definitely had encounters with PUAs (or guys who would have liked to be PUAs but didn't have the patience to read all the material), but none that were particularly memorable. I've also read countless articles and blog posts about how men (or women) can attract women (or men). Of course, these magazines and websites contain NO information for how women can attract women, or how men can attract men, because they're all the same species, so they don't need the cheat codes.

Or, you know, men and women (and everything in between) are all human beings, and you should attract them by talking to them and getting to know them and treating them with respect and showing them your own attractive qualities. If that's too complicated for you, there's a two-step program outlined at the end of this post.

This wins the internet.

I've been learning a lot lately about fat acceptance. I'm still hesitant about buying into the entire concept, but i do agree with one thing for sure: shame doesn't help anyone. Fat people are not intrinsically more stupid or self-deluded than any other people on the face of the earth. Which means that most of them probably already know that they are fat. Shame just makes them feel ashamed. How about if instead, we talk about the beauty and magic of being human and alive, give people the information they need about how to (safely and naturally) change their shape if they want to, and let everyone make their own choices? And also wear whatever clothes make you happy?

I'm known for my biting sarcasm. I forget sometimes that it's called "biting" because it hurts, and that even the word "sarcasm" itself means "to cut the flesh". It's good to keep that in mind, especially when i'm trying to be funny in print.

"Men get turned on by tits? Yeah, and I get turned on by pecs. I've learned not to make my arousal someone else's problem, and I think most men can do the same -- the ones who can't are already harassing women anyway. More importantly, I should have the right to take my chances. If your concern is safety, I think we should make it illegal to assault a topless woman." (emphasis mine) I really haven't spent that much time thinking about breastfeeding, except to decide that i'll do it with my kids if possible. And i'll do it in public, and you can go fuck yourself. But once they start teething, it's all over.
And if you want to make a different choice with your kids, more power to you. If you are listening to expert advice, paying attention to your child's needs and desires, and working to promote the health and well-being of your family, then i don't care if you're feeding it with your tits, a hired nurse's tits, a plastic bottle, or soy milk from a recycled hemp breast replacement.
But that bolded section above? That's the problem with "modesty" rules. Your arousal is not my problem. You are an adult. Figure out how to deal with it and stop telling me that my breasts are inherently dirty and sinful and bad just because they make you tingly in your swimsuit area.

Sometimes i get in fights with people about evolution. I don't mean to. I just can't help it when people start talking about six-day creation. I came to terms with both my faith and science a long time ago by figuring out two things: God is a poet and teaches us in metaphors, and God is not bound by time (which, after all, is totally and completely relative). My six days might be God's six tenths of a second, or six million years, or six and a half days. And i don't think that a belief in evolution in any way reduces my belief in God's awesome creative power and involvement in the running of the universe. "In other words, every end is a beginning. The world wasn't created and left to decay; it's still being created."

This wins the feminist internet.

sharing is caring

On October 8 2011, i was cleaning my room. It was a Saturday, and my boyfriend was rehearsing on campus. He was planning to come over during the afternoon break for . . . Well, for some afternoon delight. I was cleaning my room and watching the West Wing; i like to have the TV on in the background while i work. I put on a DVD of a show i've seen a million times and i grade papers, or write papers, or cook, or clean. And this particular episode was 'In Excelsis Deo'. When my sister called to say that Adam had been blown up, it didn't really make sense to me right away. My roommate walked by as i was hanging up the phone. Sensing that something was wrong, she asked what was going on.
"My brother was just blown up," i said. And i laughed a little: isn't it ridiculous? My brother, getting blown up? Isn't that the silliest thing you've ever heard? Big things hit me slowly.
It wasn't until half an hour or so later when John came into the room that it really sank in. I began to tell him what had happened, and i began to cry. He took me in his arms and sat on the edge of the bed and held me. And then the funeral scene in the episode began.
"Sobbing" is not the word for what i did then. "Bawling" is closer the mark, but still doesn't quite hit it. You have to use old, outdated vocabulary to come close to my reaction to that funeral scene: keening, lamenting, wailing. John jumped up and turned off the TV.
A year and a half later, after my brother completed the Boston marathon, after the marathon was the focus of a terrorist attack, after i was stranded in Boston and then in Revere, trying to get back home, after i finally got home and then went to work all day, Mark Oshiro posted his review of 'In Excelsis Deo'. Everything comes full circle.

Those who have experienced mental illness first-hand will probably see flashes of themselves in this post. Those who have not experienced it themselves but have seen it in a loved one might find this interesting. Those who have no experience, either first- or second-hand, with mental illness are first of all either lying or deluded, and second of all should still read this for the writing.

Sometimes, commercials are just plain dumb. And sometimes, they're a little bit worse than dumb.

But this almost makes up for it.

I fell in love with Kate Inglis' writing last year in a way i haven't fallen for words in a long time, in a way where i want to kill her so her talent can stop eclipsing mine and i want to sit at her feet and learn from her and i want to be her pen pal and friend and i want to write something that will impress her and i want to quit writing so there's no chance of overshadowing her brilliance and i want to quit everything and just read her words, all of them, even her journals and shopping lists and birthday cards. And here, she marries words with images and rekindles that first flame. She doesn't post often these days, but the posts are well worth waiting for.

And the brilliant and lovely Hayley Campbell posts a second collection of Brief Interviews with Hideous Men. Not to be confused with Men Call Me Things, though i'd argue that they are related, Hayley's transcripts of actual conversations is hilarious and terrifying and acidic and very very typical.

this is what i do at work all day

I think Neil Gaiman tweeted this link to old people wearing vegetation? I don't really remember where i found it. Anyway, it's awesome. I keep looking at these portraits and wondering what exactly the photographer said to these octogenarians to convince them that putting rutabaga on their heads was a good idea and worthy of art. The last picture is my favorite:

Rachel Held Evans, always a model of compassion, patience, gentleness, and deeply insightful writing, wraps up her Lenten project of turning her hate mail into art.

"What I learned turning my hate mail into origami is that we're meant to remake this world together. We're meant to hurt together, heal together, forgive together, and create together . . . 

And in a sense, even the people who continue to hate me and call me names are a part of this beautiful process. Their words, carelessly spoken, spent the last 40 days in my home -- getting creased and folded, worked over, brushed aside to make room for dinner, stepped on by a toddler, read by my sister, stained with coffee, shoved into a closet when guests arrive, blacked out, thrown away, turned into poems, and folded into sailboats and cranes and pigeons that now sit smiling at me from my office window . . . 

Something tells me we would all be a bit slower to speak if we knew just how long it takes to work those ugly, heavy words into something beautiful, something that can float or fly away."

Sarah Bessey, another incredible model of grace and strength and beauty and incredible writing, has basically summed up half of her blog in this post. (But you should still read her blog, because the writing makes it worthwhile.)

"This is the thing I believe about the Kingdom of God: it's for all of us. It's for the powerful and weak, it's for men and women, it's for the outliers and the insiders. It's for all of us. And so there is no neat and safe and tidy box; instead there is the wild and untamed and glorious riches of Christ Jesus, there is Deborah and Davod, there is Junia and Paul, there is Martha and Lazarus, Esther and Sarah, and there is you and there is me . . .

People cloak it in spiritual language. But don't be deceived: anything that steals the very essence of God's calling on you, God's shalom, God's justice, God's way of life and living as a warrior, as a prophetess, as a mother, as a teacher, whatever-your-vocation-or-calling as a woman after God's own heart, is a liar. There is a big difference between choosing silence and being silenced . . .

There is room for all of us in this story of Jesus. The Kingdom of God isn't created by fear or shame or narrow name-calling or false binaries. The Kingdom of God is created in the rising up, in the singing of the song, in the battle of the every day justice, in the daily mundane gorgeousness of servanthood and leadership, regardless of gender."

My friend is developing a new game. For those of you familiar with Cards Against Humanity, it's like that. For those of you familiar with Apples to Apples, Cards Against Humanity is like the black sheep version of that. Anyway, this game is what would happen if a bunch of youth pastors who got too old and/or jaded to keep youth pastoring got drunk on Irish coffee, played Cards Against Humanity, and then someone pulled out a Bible and starting gluing pages onto the cards. Except the cards are professionally made. Sign up on the website to get an email when the game is released.

This is another old archive post, but anyone who has ever heard the term "rape culture" and been confused, or heard the term and scoffed, or hasn't heard the term at all, should read it. It's a great primer for learning about the way we protect rapists and blame victims, and why that's a bad thing (you wouldn't think we'd need to explain why that's a bad thing, but apparently we do). This post is kind of in the middle of the story, but it still has enough information for you to figure out what's going on. I'd quote favorite passages, but that would end up being way too long. Just read it.

Google honored an incredible woman last week with one of the most beautiful Google Doodles i've ever seen. I was also really pleased to see that the article focused on her work and its importance, and not on, say, her famous beef pot roast recipe or how good she was at raising babies or something, which articles about important women tend to do.

So here's another Tiger Beatdown archive post. I'll stop sharing them when they stop being amazing. Also, Joan is one of my favorite names and i'd love to give it to my daughter one day.

"And I don't know if I believe in Jesus, but I believe in Joan of Arc . . . I believe that we're human beings, and that the range of human possibility includes Joan of Arc.

Here's a list of things that Joan is the patron saint of, issues on which it is decreed Joan shall have your back: "Captives, France, martyrs, opponents of Church authorities, people ridiculed for their piety, prisoners, rape victims." And soldiers, particularly female ones . . .

And Joan was found not-evil, at the retrial, but she wasn't declared a saint until 1920. The year after American women got the right to vote. Meaning we couldn't take her name until after feminism had won one of its biggest victories. That's another reason I believe in Joan, more than anything: She opened the door, very politely waited for us to walk through, and then came in and took her rightful place."

Two words: infomercial gifs.

terrible twos

Hey, so, also: my second anniversary of blogging happened two weeks ago. Woops.

Most popular post: still never settle.

Biggest referring URL is from Frank Viola; biggest referring site is Google. No idea what the difference is between referring URL and referring site.

People have found the blog by googling both "never settle tattoo" and "never settle tattoos". And also "gold body paint", which presumably led them to this.

Russian readership remains strong. As of today, i have had 1,998 visitors from Russia in the last two years, second only to the US's 4,707. Third place is the UK at 269.

Also, my brother is competing in the Boston marathon this year on a hand cycle, my roommates are still terrible but may be leaving soon (which is good for my peace of mind but bad for my blog material), my boyfriend and i are resisting my family's "suggestions" that we get engaged already and having lots of adventures with eating fresh doughnuts and riding trains and snuggling and visiting aquariums and deciding in advance how we will mess up our hypothetical future children. (Most recent idea? Teach them that certain random words are profane ["Jimmy! Never say 'wagon'! Where did you learn that word?! Go to your room!"] but teach them how to use actual swear words really, really well.) God and i are making up, but i'm still mad at a lot of "Christians". But it's a righteous anger, so it's fine. I'm working harder on getting my life together: eating well, getting and staying in shape, making doctor's appointments, budgeting my money, etc. Results vary. I'm getting comments now, which is weird and new, and people are following me on Twitter. In fact, the Bloggess is following me on Twitter, and when you add that to the heartfelt email exchange we had back in November of 2011, we're basically best friends. It's okay to be jealous. In fact, it's encouraged. Also, Neil Gaiman once responded to one of my tweets, and Honest Toddler sometimes favorites my replies to his/her tweets, AND Joshua Malina followed me after i paid him to. The fast lane: i am living in it.

If i had champagne, i'd drink it, but instead i'll celebrate with maple whiskey and root beer, A Game for Good Christians, and maybe some organic cheesy cracker things. Or nachos. Here's to year three!

Lady Problems

So i have a list for this year. I have a list of "responsible adult get my life started" things that i need to do in order to feel like a responsible adult and to start living the life i want to have. They range from the simple and obvious (change my official residence from Maryland to Massachusetts) to the slightly more complex but completely necessary (find some doctors that accept out-of-state insurance and start scheduling check-ups for the first time since 2009) to the specific and expensive (register to take teaching licensure exams).

These items have been on my to-do list since graduating from college in May 2011. Some of them have been postponed because i couldn't afford to do them, some because they were important but not urgent, and some because i forgot. But it's getting more and more important that i figure this shit out. For one thing, i can't do my student teaching until i take and pass my exams, and i can't graduate until i do my student teaching, and i can't get a teaching job and leave my current job until i graduate. So i kinda need to take those exams. And lately i've been having some weird circulation issues that may or may not be indicative of something more serious, so i should probably get some check-ups and whatnot.

Anyway. Tomorrow, i am taking some personal time in the morning to visit the RMV and become a Massachusetts resident. I'm excited -- i like living in Massachusetts, and i've known for about five years now that this day would come eventually, and having that Massachusetts ID will make it a lot easier to get alcohol, but i am NOT enthusiastic about spending time in the RMV (or the DMV, or the MVA, if you live in other parts of the country. Whatever you call it, i think we can all agree that it sucks). But i'll bring a book, and by the time i leave that will be one more thing crossed off of my list. Next item: get my cat fixed. And then get back on birth control.

lenten bucket list

This is the time of year when people use God to guilt themselves into giving up bad habits delve deep into spirituality and self-sacrifice and work on cleansing their daily lives of things that distract them from God and Bible and Prayer and Such. Some people use it as a kick-off for the rest of their lives, like quitting smoking or gluten. They figure that, for 40 days of prayer and meditation and joining in the sufferings of Christ (who actually fasted for 40 days and then was beaten and tortured and horribly killed, so totally the same as you giving up caffeine), they can get a leg up on a better life and look more holy doing it.

In years past, i've given up pizza, sweets, soda, and meat. I actually gave up meat twice; the first time, i mostly just ate lots of bread and cheese. The second time, i worked on finding vegetarian meals that i enjoyed and making more deliberate choices about what i ate, and it was a choice that i carried with me. I now identify as "flexitarian", which means that i often eat vegetarian meals, but have no health/moral objections to eating meat sometimes (one of my favorite meals: veggie burgers wrapped in bacon).

This year, i toyed with giving up meat again, but i just don't eat it often enough for it to be a real sacrifice. I also toyed with adding a positive practice instead of deleting a negative one; i thought about adding another two days to my workout routine. But recent life changes have prompted me to redo the entire routine anyway, and i have no clue how i would fit any extra days in there right now. No need to add religious guilt to my personal health guilt. And then i simultaneously forgot and decided i didn't care this year.

But i do want to make my life better. I do want to take what God has given me (talents, time, resources, etc.) and do good things with them. I do want to live a life to be proud of. I do want to accomplish things. I've already done so many incredible things (spending six months traveling around Europe, graduating from college, a missions trip to Nicaragua, spending a month on a boat in Puerto Rico, moving far away from family and friends, getting tattoos, eating snails and octopus and tofu and weird fried baby fishes and scrapple and cashew fruit, teaching myself different skills, and so on), but there is so much left to do.

This season of loss and lamentation and desperate hope encourages quiet reflection. It also encourages getting off your ass and doing something to improve your life. And this year in particular, when i have been surrounded by so much death and sickness and reminders of mortality, i've been thinking about the things i still want out of life, big and small.

So here goes:

• i want to finish this damned degree
• i want to get a full-time job teaching English in a public high school
• i want to get married
• i want to go to Greece
• i want to learn to make a souffle
• i want to be published
• i want to have kids
• i want to attend a same-sex wedding
• i want to vote for a female candidate for President of the United States
• i want there to be a female President of the United States
• i want to buy a house
• i want to buy an electric/hybrid car
• i want to plant, tend, and compost my own garden
• i want to make money from something i've written
• i want to get a chest freezer
• i want to learn to make my own preserves
• i want to take a shooting course
• i want to take an archery course
• i want to go to Venice
• i want to make my own cheese
• i want to keep bees (NB: this may prove to be an unrealistic goal, in which case i'd like to instead aspire to meet a local bee-keeper and buy all my bee products from him/her)
• i want to go to Ireland
• i want to get back to volunteering with a riding therapy group
• i want to make enough money from writing that i can be a stay-at-home mom/housewife and still contribute significant financial support to my family

Life is fluid. Goals change and move. New desires arise and old ones die out. So this list will likely (hopefully) be continuously updated over the years. But it's a good start.

saving me (vulgarity)

You know George Carlin's famous seven words?* Shout them out. Scream them at the top of your lungs. If you're not quite ballsy enough for those seven, something milder is okay. Find the dirtiest word that you can comfortably say out loud and yell it. Think of it as catharsis: there's all that darkness and filth and pain inside of you, and it has to come out one way or another. This way is fast and a lot more fun than you might think.

*Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits.

saving me (time)

There is no quick fix. There is no perfect solution. There is no switch to turn the lights back on. Work as hard as you can, fight as hard as you can, but know that you will have to wait for the dawn.

saving me (secret)

Have things that you cherish. Have things that are important to you. Don't give them away. Sometimes selfishness is okay. Keep parts of yourself to yourself -- don't give everything you are to everyone you meet. Have some secrets.