What to say when you’ve got nothin’ to say
I really did have great plans to turn this blog around and write in it really regularly and all that nice stuff. I really didn’t want it to just be sitting here…hanging out…doing nothing…
But then I realized I can’t really blog about work. Partially due to HIPAA, and the fact that violations don’t just mean OMGZFIRED it means OMGZLITIGATION. Plus, it’s not as if my name isn’t plastered all over the website, and everyone can use Google now (although only I have the true art of the Google Fu down in the lab). Anonymity’s supposed to be freeing, but I’ve always thought it was a drag. So starting a new blog out in the wildness of the interwebs and going by a fake name is right out.
And then on top of that, I’m in the middle of this furious amount of self-congratulatory free time. Most of my nights I’m either reading feminist weblogs, playing Ragnarok Online, re-reading my favorite books (I can’t afford new ones that often - I don’t even buy new clothes!), or watching TV series with Pac. That’s actually a pretty good place to be in. Only when I relax can I actually focus on settling a story in my head before I write it, and hey, score, I discovered I am no longer addicted to RO.
This is basically what I do when I’m not spending time being an adult, which means planning a wedding, going to work, and trying to somehow balance two ailing cars that need repairs every couple of weeks. Being an adult can be retarded sometimes.
I don’t know. What do you think I should write about?
The drinks absolve our sins
My move is over, and I’ve had the internet back for a while now. Yet I can’t really find anything to blog about. I go through periods, as my long-term readers may have noticed, where I become so intensely private I won’t even talk about political opinions in public. I’m not sure why I get into these moods, but I’ve been in one for a little while. I’m still not really ready to talk about anything deeply personal, though in summary (just so no one thinks I’m hiding terribly unpleasant secrets), my commute is much shorter, Pac’s schedule has changed so I see him more, and I’m really very happy. But rather than sit here in what I term “radio silence,” despite the mixing of metaphors, I’ll give you a list of things I’ve been sifting through/thinking about.
The Pill Kills - There is so much wrong here that I could probably write a term paper on it. The entire site is loaded with words designed to evoke emotional reaction, hoping that if you’re emotionally involved your logical faculties won’t notice the gaping problems in their “scientific” information. Oh, and apparently taking birth control means that your husband will treat you like his property - since men did so well not treating women like property before the birth control pill was available. Because it’s not about your right to your own body, it’s about mens’ rights to your body and what a bunch of old (supposedly) undersexed men think are God’s rights to your body. (Don’t get me wrong, Catholicism does a lot of things right, but like many Judeo-Christian religions, they do a lot of things wrong too.)
California declares equal rights to marriage - I am ridiculously grateful for this ruling, which says that all citizens will receive equal marriage rights. It also rules on something much, much bigger than the right to obtain a marriage license. What makes people fight so hard for equal marriage rights? Equal rights. The right to be free from discrimination against your sexual orientation, at the same level as the right to be free from religious, gender, or racial discrimination. Period. In re Marriage Cases contains a few sentences that give me hope back for this country, that maybe we’ll remember that we believe in freedom still. The California court has declared that sexual orientation falls under its equal protection clause, and therefore laws that discriminate based upon sexual orientation will be under legal scrutiny. And on top of that, the Governator has publicly stated he will not veto and will not encourage any amendment (not that there won’t be one on the ballot in November anyway).
I’m not dead yet!
No, I haven’t died. I’ve been moving, and as of yet have no internet. Woe. I’ll be back soon, though, I promise. No more radio silence. 
Blogging is stealing our authors?
Or so sayeth Robin Hobb, at any rate. I will admit that there are many people, myself included, who have gotten so plugged into the Internet that given an hour of spare time, we’d rather blog than write.
I think it’s completely ridiculous to say that blogging means that you stop writing and begin sucking. Neil Gaiman blogs, and most of his blogs are “so I’m writing _____ at the moment.” In fact, I believe his blog was instrumental in bringing American Gods to life, one of the best, most life-changing books I’ve read in my life.
I don’t write anymore because I choose to read or play DS, or watch new movies. Mostly, I read. I don’t think anyone can accuse me of blogging when I ought to be writing, at least not anymore, and I’ve been blogging for about 7 years.
For you I’ve waited all these years
This weekend, Pac asked me to marry him. And in August, I am.
It’s incredibly hard to think of what to say about it. I am past the point of happy, I am content. Incredibly content. Waking up late on a cold Saturday when you’re that perfect degree of warm in your blankets content. Spring day after a long winter when the breeze caresses your face like a friend content.
But what do you say about the person who makes you smile even when you’ve had a bad day at work and you’ve got an appointment with a cancer screening the next day? The same person who trusted that you’d come back whole long after you’d given up, who always asked “What can I do to help?” and then did it.
He is the other half of my soul, whose presence I feel even in his absence. He’s the man who never asks me to be anything but myself, even when that means being teary and hormonal and helpless. He’s the man who took me to an Equality Now screening of Serenity for our first official date and asked me to marry him in my living room with my grandmother’s ring. He’s the man who thinks I look beautiful in baggy scrubs after a full day’s work and kisses me even when I’m sick.
I don’t know what else I can say, other than I’m marrying the person I know I’m spending my life with, who makes me incredibly happy. And now you know too.
“Your highness, we beseech you on this day in Philadelphia to bite me, if you please.”
In the last post I wrote, I talked about my fears for this country and how I needed to overcome that fear. What’s changed in the last week and a half? I have found the little nudge of hope I so desperately needed to remember that I refuse to be ruled by my apprehensions.
That nudge was The West Wing.
It’s true that in the past I’ve found a large amount of comfort from the show by embracing the fantasy of it all. The idea of a Democratic presidency at a time when a Republican presidency was driving me crazy, that’s very compelling stuff. I needed desperately to believe that there were people out there who would go to the White House and try to make the best decisions possible, who were genuinely good people, and who wanted to move forward with the country instead of backwards. All in all, when I’m feeling irritable, The West Wing is a fantastic band-aid.
But that wasn’t the nudge this time. The nudge is this: I live in a country where people watched The West Wing. Not only watched it, but loved it. I live in a country where those people still live and still vote. I watch this show, and it connects me to everyone who has ever watched it and loved it, because I think a lot of us found the same hope. And we’re still here, still voting, still desiring to bring about a change.
Yes, I live in a country where persons in all levels of government can lie and get away without punishment. Yes, I live in a country where hate is normalized and nurtured. Yes, I live in a country that is self-destructing from all the bad decisions made over the last decade. Yes, I live in a country (and, more pointedly, in a state) that is reviled across the world for these things and more.
But I also live in a country where The West Wing was watched, loved, and awarded for being a fantastic show. I live in a country with the people who watched and loved. And despite all the awful things, we are still here.
That is reason enough to shake off the fear.
The world is coming to this.
One Man’s God Squad - This scares me. I think it’s despicable that scare tactics and smear campaigns, like sending postcards to your neighbors claiming you kill babies because you answer the phones at a women’s health clinic, are acceptable to these people. What scares me the most is that these actions are becoming acceptable in the mainstream.
I am afraid of an atmosphere where things like this go uncontested. Where things like this are praised and lauded by people who run my government. I refuse to let this country become Gilead. Overcoming my fear will make me stronger, and overcoming my fear will make this country a better place.