we should be allies

N.H. Senate panel rejects transgender bill - The Boston Globe

This sucks.

When are we going to make the saftey of all people a priority? When are we going to start working toward preventing violence? When are we going to, as a people, say to the transcommunity "you are worthwhile; you are worth protecting"?

I am a cisgender gay female. I hope I can be counted on as an ally to the transgender community, but I have a lot of learning to do.

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GISG: IT Issue Edition

Search:

I got a call from a Ricoh tech names “Abel”.

Image:

She is amazing. And happy!

A World of Variation

I’ve been dissatisfied for several years at the language we use when discussing and writing laws about non-mainstream (read fully heterosexual) sexual identities. “Sexual preference” thankfully has seen a significant decline in use. “Sexual orientation” however remains. Both of these terms whisper and hint at choice. I do not believe that attraction is a choice, although I also believe that there may be people in the world that do choose their “orientation”. The majority of people find their sexual choices driven by something innate. I have been looking for a new term and complaining all along the journey to find one. My eureka moment, I think, has come.

While listening to a podcast on Charles Darwin, I was thinking about how absurd it is that discrimination and hate can be based upon variations in sex characteristics, and how we very well could have evolved large women and small men (like the Black Widow). Okay, so I dorked out hard core. The point is I landed on a term that seems to work for me. “Sexual Variation”. With sexual variation, we get a few things that we don’t get with the other two:

General Benefits

• The idea of choice is taken out of the equation. Even if you do choose to orient yourself one way over another, that choice is still found under the variation umbrella.
• A broader spectrum of sexuality can be encompassed here rather than the gay-straight-bi Venn Diagram.
• It opens up conversation again about how sexuality fits into our lives and our identities (I will admit that this benefit might be for a limited time only).

Personal Benefits (that I hope are general)

• My love of language specificity and evolution are satisfied all at once.
• I’m more inclined to ask someone “What’s your (sexual) variation?” than I am “What’s your (sexual) orientation?”. The question feels less threatening.
• When answering that question, I don’t feel a need to shove myself into a box or a category that doesn’t quite fit.

So. What’s your variation?

piddiddle, piddaddle

Crossposted at insanemonade.

Characters:

LS – Little Sis
BS – Big Sis

Living room of a Brooklyn apartment. Like way out there Brooklyn. Like Bay Ridge or something. So you know, more space than normal.

BS is folding laundry on the couch. She is listening to the radio. The house is that “messy organized” that 20-somethings do. Or at least I do.

LS bursts through the door and lets it slam behind her.

LS

Oh my god, BS, I cannot believe what just happened. I just had probably the most amazing experience of my life. I don’t know what made me do it, but ahhh I’m so glad I did… I just… Oh my god, it was so fucking amazing. Amazing.

BS

(bored) What did you do?

LS

Do you want to know?

BS

Yes.

LS

Do you really?

BS

Yes.

LS

You aren’t just humoring me?

BS

No.

LS

Okay. … Ask me once more. With feeling.

BS

(fake smile, still bored) What did you do?

LS

I masturbated on the subway.

BS

(not so bored) You…

LS

I masturbated on the subway! During rush hour! I feel so free, so unconquerable. You know? Nobody even noticed! I mean, I know NYers are self-centered and jaded, but really I expected someone to think something was off and, you know, ruin the moment. But no one did. I just masturbated right there on the subway and totally got away with it! How fucking awesome is that? That was seriously the best commute I’ve had since I moved here. So relaxing. I think I’m going to do it again tomorrow. And you know what else? Towards the end, I’m pretty sure I saw god. Yeah. Oh my god!!! I can’t believe I did it! I’m so alive right now. I want to run a marathon or leap off a building! Oh. I’m definitely doing it tomorrow. Definitely. Maybe both ways. That way I’ll be nice and energetic [for work].

BS

You can’t masturbate on the subway!

LS

… Yes, I can.

BS

No. You can’t.

LS

Yes. I can. I just did.

BS

Well, you can’t do it again.

LS

Yes. I. Can. And you can’t stop me.

BS

Are you fucking insane?! Only crazy people and assholes do shit like that.

LS

And what does that make you?

BS

I do not masturbate on the subway! I wouldn’t even think of masturbating on the subway. How does someone even come up with something like that?

LS

I forgot my book.

BS

I … don’t even know what to say to that.

LS

Seriously, BS, I think you are making way too big a deal of this. I just closed my eyes and got to it. It was easy. No one got hurt. No one saw. And I had a great time. You know, I came straight home to tell you, because I thought you’d be happy for me.

BS

Really?

LS

You’re the one always going on and on and on and on and on about how masturbation is good for the soul. How it can clear out a lot of tension and stress.

BS

Yeah, but I never said you should [do it in public.]

LS

If you aren’t going to be happy for me, fine! She pulls out her mobile and hits a speed dial.

BS

Who are you calling?

LS

Mom? Throughout the call, BS tries to take the phone away from LS.
It’s me. Is Dad there? Yeah? Can you put me on speaker? BS, stop it!
Mom, Dad, I had the most amazing experience today. … I masturbated on the subway, and I’m pretty sure I saw god. Now, I know you think stuff like this is weird. But you always said you wanted me to be happy, and this made me extremely happy. Are you happy for me? …. Well? Good. Thank you. I’m glad to know that some people care about my personal happiness. Well, that’s all I wanted to tell you. Yeah, we’ll still talk this weekend. Love you. And BS sends her love too. Yes, I’ll tell her to call. Love you. Bye!
See? Not so big a deal, is it? You need to calm down.

BS

I can’t believe you just told our parents that you masturbated in public.

LS

Well, I did. Get over it. You know, you really should trust them more, tell them more about your life. You’d have a better, more open relationship with them the way I do.

BS

I am not calling our parents every time I masturbate somewhere new.

LS

Okay. But really you should call them more. They’d feel better. You’d feel better. You’d probably save yourself some hours in therapy.

BS

I … I can’t deal with you right now.

LS

You looked stressed.

BS

I am a little.

LS

Where’re you going?

BS

To my room.

LS

Are you going to masturbate?

BS

No. I am going to go to my room, lock you out, and meditate until I’m sure that this whole episode is a very, very, very distant memory. Like I don’t even want to remember [that you were ever born.]

LS

Meditate.

BS

Yes.

LS

... Oh my god what did I just tell our parents?!!!

BLACKOUT

GISG: Coffee Edition

The Search:

caffeine withdrawal barbie

The Image:

That pretty much describes my state of mind right now. Both the search and the image.

Google Image Search TKO!

The Search:

punch this out failry easily [sic]

The Image:

Who wouldn't want that scarf?!

An international urban career – at home

When I made the career transition away from stage management and towards something new, the first kind of graduate degree program that caught my eye had to do with International Affairs. You see, I’ve always had an affinity for languages and travel – took French from 7th grade into college, almost 1 year of HS Japanese, some Italian lessons before working in Italy for a month, fortunate enough to have a grandmother take me to Europe and a family support my semester abroad in Paris. I always wanted to work for Cirque du Soleil, where I could use my language skills and interact with an international group of people. I fell in love with Barcelona and still feel I could live there.

My month at the Festival dei Due Mondi in Spoleto was one of the most challenging and rewarding of my stage management career – juggling my way along with an American cast, orchestra, designers and maestro with an Italian stage crew, Japanese assistant stage manager, and German production manager. Somehow, my very few meetings with Paolo (my Italian tutor) and my residual French enabled me to win an argument with the Italian tech director, who only spoke Italian. I think I get this language thing from my grandfather, a doctor who spoke 5 or 6 of them.

But at 28 and looking at graduate programs in International Affairs, I felt there were challenges involved I couldn’t face. First of all, I felt too old to really revamp the French and/or pick up another language in time to apply for the programs. The bigger reason, however, was that as a very happily married woman, I couldn’t imagine embarking on a career path that would inevitably take me away from him and from home. He’s away on business enough as it is, I didn’t want to add to those stresses. Of course, this set off alarms of, “Don’t limit yourself for him” and the like… but really, I was limiting myself for me. For us. This whole marriage thing, though certainly not the only answer, suits me really well and provides a stability and happiness I didn’t want to mess with. To me, claiming my happiness and protecting it was not anti-feminist, it was pro-me.

So what to do instead? I settled on a degree in Urban Public Policy, and am really enjoying the coursework. I’m still not sure where I’ll land, and am leaving myself open to the many ideas and opportunities that float my way. This weekend, while researching a paper, a huge bright light bulb idea came floating through those open doors – I can have an ‘international’ career… without leaving the US!

This semester I’ve been auditing intensive introductory Spanish. Thankfully I have an excellent teacher. The four-hour stretches on Saturdays are grueling, but it’s going well and pretty easily. I looked at the further Spanish offerings at my U., and there’s an intensive intermediate, followed by 2 more classes. And that’s it. I could be done with that by the time I graduate – very hopeful news. So a new, more useful language in US urban settings, check.

For the paper, I’m researching immigrant entrepreneurs in NYC. Reading about this, about how many immigrants don’t establish relationships with banks and don’t have access to credit needed to start a business because of lack of access, lack of cultural/language connections, or distrust of the government and financial institutions – and how there are some new microcredit and microfinance organizations operating in NYC and across the US – enter light bulb – I could do that! Microfinance, a hot “international development” topic, turns out, is not just for other countries – it can work in the US too! Economics has been an interesting field since taking my first ever econ course last semester (and, well, it’s in the news a bit these days, you know) … so I’m still floating on this new idea, a way to focus my efforts in fields I enjoy: economics, language, policy, urban poverty. I can be that person who finds new ways to build capacity for microcredit in NYC (where demand is outstripping supply). I can help make the programs that teach financial skills to immigrant entrepreneurs. I can bridge the gaps between establishment institutions and the populations they aren’t reaching.

And if we wind up moving to LA, the Spanish will serve me well there too.

Of course, I might very well change my mind about what I want to do 18 times before graduating, but it’s nice to have these moments of clarity and inspiration.

Google Image Search Game

When I need to amuse myself at work (and I'm not reading blogs and such), I take snippets of co-worker emails and do a Google Image search and pick out the best one and reply to their email with it (obvs this is only for the initiated).

This is my favorite image when you search:
I just ate one; they are terrible. No one eat one . . . . . . I will handle their disposal.

Stouffer's Frozen Lasagna is my Home Boy

Submitted by Brooke Hoover, an actor and comedian in NYC

Making a PBJ for lunch tomorrow so I don't go crazy at Pret A Manger or another "healthy" fast-food place demain.
I'm slapping my peanut butter on the bread and I notice every single thing I am using to concoct my quasi comfort food has LIGHT on it.
"Light Arnold bread featuring 6 grams of fiber!"
"Sugar-Free Blackberry Preserve - same great taste!"
"Jiffy Lite." ('cause Lite is supposed to make me think this kind of peanut butter is fun-loving with its misspelled name)
Even the silverware seems to sparkle with the word "light" like a dollar store disco ball.
Wait, that's just a reflection from the bread packaging, but, still.

Oh, Light Food, I am sick of thy lite blue labelling and attempts to taste just like the real deal.

Is it so bad that I dream of a fatty fat fat Alice in PreservativeLand where blue and/or white labels always displaying the words "light" and/or "lite" are banned and red labels rule the world? Beem me up, Queen of MSG ! Stouffer's frozen lasagna is my home boy.
Oh, but that's just a lil' daydream o' mine.
'Cause going down that rabbit hole is what got me into this nightmare to begin with.
Ok, here ends my attempts to make Alice in Wonderland metaphors.
I just really like Alice in Wonderland, guys.

I lost sixty pounds, gotta lose more, gotta stay on the train, wish Jillian was MY personal
_ _ _ _ in' trainer! Gotta be grateful, gotta be positive, gotta put white light (but not "light" white labels) on a faster metabolism and will power of steel, gotta keep moving forward on this weight loss - weight - wait - I mean "lifestyle" change!

But, first, can we please make a pit stop at Outback Steakhouse?

Could I be a stay at home mom? Without kids?

Gillian Hurst lives in New York City working as an actor and writer. She is a twenty something with lots of day jobs (including research assistant analyst, scrapbooker, babysitter, secret shopper and background artist). Gillian hails from Lenox, MA and still misses the coffee shop on Main St. Gillian has many interests including Education, Travel, Cooking, Theater, Book Clubs, Green Markets, Composting and watching Martha Stewart.....Gillian is also the writer of the blog "The Life and Times of Priscilla Rosenblaum". For more www.GillianHurst.Com or http://landtofpr.blogspot.com

I was raised to be very independent. I am very independent. I am very independent in my first serious relationship. Marriage is in our future. Children are in our future. My boyfriend has a full time job. He makes money. I'm an actor. I work part-time and make no money. Since I've moved in with him.... I've profited from paying a smaller rent than I would pay on my own. We split it. But the freedom of a few hundred dollars has allowed me to act more. Though my checking and savings account are hurting. After I pay my rent this month and get a metro card- I will have ten dollars to my name til my next paycheck.

Like any rational person- I freaked out about this and got all anxious. I was looking up ways to save due to the economy and telling my boyfriend about it. He didn't seem to get why I was freaking out. I told him about my checking account and he asked me if I needed money. This was really sweet of him. I said no. Being the independent person I am- I've never been able to just accept money from someone, even my parents. And I already owe boyfriend money for our trip to Florida in April for MY Grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary.

My mother says I can't let him give me money until we are married. We've only been together a year. I've always planned on getting married someday if things worked out. But part of me wants to stop working(the tired, burned out part). Then I can focus on acting AND keep house. I think that would make me happy. But I don't know if not having my own income would make me happy.................

Neither would being a homemaker. I'm totally capable of working and contributing equally to our home. I don't want to live off another person. Thus, I like the word mom to be involved. Because taking care of kids is a big job. Wouldn't it be good to practise being a stay at home mom before the kids come??? This way I will be all prepared as to where to get the best organic veggies to make my own baby food.

At the lowest cost.... cause I'm a miser. But my hypothetical baby deserves the best!

my feminist ancestry

I’ve been wanting to write about the women in my family for awhile and have never gotten around to it., specifically about my maternal grandmother and her mother. Their two stories have been inspiring me for years, reminding me that I am a thoughtful, strong woman that comes from strong female stock. I like to pretend that I don’t have heroes but as I get older, I realize the great number of role models in my life and in my past.

My great-grandmother didn’t want children. She married a man who was one of ten children. I don’t know the details of their negotiations, but she gave birth to my grandmother in 1927. My great-grandfather was a gambling addict. She kicked him out of the house. She was not going to have her daughter grow up around his addiction. She would take him back when he quit. It took him thirteen years. They never divorced, but my grandmother was basically raised by a single mother. When the Depression hit, many members of the family moved in with them. My great-grandmother supported her family until the economy recovered. She was a secretary in an office. My grandmother used to tell me about going to visit when she was on school holiday or over the summer. Her mother ran that office and ordered the men around and kept it working like clockwork. But she was just a “secretary.” When my grandmother tells me that I remind her of her mother. I can’t help but smile.

When my grandmother was around ten years old or so, she was walking with her grandmother on the streets of New Orleans. There was an African-American woman across the street from them. My grandmother said, “Grandma, look at that black lady.” Her grandmother slapped her. My grandmother was an only and spoiled child (her words). She was not used to being slapped or spanked. Her grandmother looked at her and said, “That is a black woman. She is not a lady.” My grandmother stayed silent but thought that that was simply wrong. She raised her own children to know that all people are people, regardless of skin color. My grandmother has been a good friend and great traveling buddy, and I will regret not spending more time with her.

Of course this is not the extent of the amazing women in my family. My mother raised two independent, strong women while holding a full time job and running a household. I feel lucky to have good, supportive men in my family as well. These two stories are just the ones that I hold close when life gets difficult.

GGWe: An Introduction

Girls Gone Wilde is a blog created to give voice to the passions and wits of girls, women, womyn, transwomen, and any other person that lives and identifies on the spectrum of "girl". We are governed by the following evolving policies:

1. Ageist, racist, sexist, sizeist, ableist, homophobic, transphobic and other such content and comments will not be tolerated. Basically, if you have to be an asshole to make a point, you need to rethink either your point or the way you present it. We're into wit. Hate =/= Wit.

2. Any group of people will disagree. We ask that discussion remain respectful.

3. We are making this up as we go along, so if you see any glaring omissions or have suggestions or bitches, moans, & gripes, email us (girlsgonewilde@gmail.com)! We promise to read them and respond eventually.

4. To submit a post, email your piece to girlsgonewilde@gmail.com. We'd say put SUBMISSION in the subject, but some of us might get confused about which email account she is in. BLOG POST should be okay though. Be sure to include a quick blurb about yourself and if the post will be crossposted anywhere.

The goal of this blog is to show the diversity of our lives and passions.

Happy posting!