Response to "War on Men"

(I am going to try to keep this post reasonable and civil.  I can't guarantee anything though.)

Before going on, read this.

There is one thing I completely agree with in this article:  the battle of the sexes is alive and well.  But it's not the fault of women as Suzanne Venker would like to say.  It's not the fault of men either.  Saying one sex is more at fault, or that there is even fault to be applied, is not helping the situation.

There is a subculture of both men and women who don't want to get married.  I used to be part of that subculture.  Up until recently, I could never imagine getting married.  I could imagine committing and spending my life with one man, but not in some ceremony that costs thousands of dollars that I didn't want to do and then when it doesn't work out, have to go through the lengthy and also expensive process of divorce.  While I'm open to the idea of marriage more today, there are definitely times when I think I would rather opt for something different.

I would imagine this movement of anti-marriage is more because of our generation.  We're more focused on school and work and want to continue to focus on different things than marrying.  It's not as much of a social pressure either.  My parents, along with many others, would be perfectly content if I found that person that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, but never officially got married.  I know there are plenty who still pressure their kids into getting married, but, at least from personal experience, it's a dying trend.

I don't know what type of men Venker has been talking to.  But the type that don't want to get married because "women aren't women anymore" are not the type of man women want to marry.  I'm not surprised she's found an entire subculture of men who don't want to get married if they think like that.  They couldn't get married if they tried (well they probably could, but you know what I mean).

Think about that phrase for a second.  "Women aren't women anymore."  I'm taking a stab in the dark here, but do they think that because women don't want to be stuck at home with screaming kids anymore, they want to bring home money and contribute to society.  Women are moving away from the traditional feminine view, opting for a more independent, self-sufficient lifestyle.  We're strong.  We always have been.  And there's a problem with us showing it, according to Venker.  How is that reasonable?

There was a revolution to change the way women were being treated because they weren't being treated equally.  It was a time when they couldn't vote, didn't get paid anywhere near the amount men did (if their husbands would even allow them to work).  It was a time when this article that Venker wrote, a woman wrote, would have to been published under a man's name if it even got published at all.

I'll give you that women may be angry, but that's because we have a valid reason for being angry.  In a world where I can fly from Madison to San Fransisco in four hours, everyone has a computer in their pocket and you can have the internet without plugging a cord into your computer, women still aren't equal.  We've definitely made progress.  But we're still expected to do the traditionally feminist roles in a family (which is a completely different problem I recently wrote a five page paper about so it's a little much to discuss here), we're not paid the same wages as men (seventy-seven cents to the male dollar to be exact).

Men are not the enemy.  We are not waging a war against men, we're waging a war against inequality.  Societal standards for women AND men are the problem.  The fact women are raised to be soft-spoken and delicate and men need to be strong and unemotional is the problem.  The problem, put simply, is the existence of gender standards in society.  There is something fundamentally wrong with society's standards, not with men themselves.  If we're not happy, it's a combination of those standards and how we're being treated by men because of them.  This is what we are working to change.  We're coming out, showing we're strong because we want to change the standards of femininity and, through education, changing the way men interact with us.

What if I want more in my life than just "men [wanting] to love [me]?"  What if I want to help them provide for and protect a family.  It may be in their DNA but, guess what, it's in women's DNA too.  We'll let them provide for and protect a family as long as we can have an equal say and have equal pay.  Women are tired too.  I'm tired of people thinking I'm a lesbian, calling me a dyke (it's happened before), because I'm not dainty and delicate.  I'm strong and independent and that throws a lot of guys off.

Don't even get me started on the sentence "Feminism serves men very well: they can have sex at hello and even live with their girlfriends with no responsibilities whatsoever."  Feminism may have helped eradicate the sexual oppression of women (but not completely, even men are sexually oppressed in society.  I blame religion but that's a different blog post), but that doesn't mean we go around having one night stands and never hold our boyfriends responsible for anything.  I'll hold my boyfriend responsible when he's not pulling his weight in the relationship.  I like having steady relationships instead of just sleeping around.  Implying that women would prefer sex at hello and pull all the weight in a relationship is probably the stupidest thing I've ever read.

Women do not need men's linear career goals.  WE DON'T NEED THEM TO PICK UP THE SLACK AT THE OFFICE.  I can't believe she even was saying that seriously.  She has to be joking right?  I am completely certain I could have an office of all women and it wouldn't fall apart.  You know why?  Because women are stronger today.  We're independent.  I am more often proud of my female friends than my male friends because of how ridiculously strong they are.  My best friend has had a lot of health problems lately, but she doesn't break down and cry.  She doesn't sit in her house and feel sorry for herself.  She goes out!  She parties with me.  She goes to hockey games (she'd be my vice-president of this all-girl office).  She is one of the strongest people I know.  My mom is also one of the strongest people I know.  She's been through cancer, jaw issues, money problems, severe depression, gallbladder removal, and still she carries on, not feeling sorry for herself.  She wakes up everyday and goes to work (except Fridays of course because she's smart and asked for Fridays off).  She was back at work a week after she had her gallbladder out.  She is and always has been one of the strongest people I know.

We do not NEED men.  They're a bonus, don't get me wrong.  Sex is great and having someone there for you, and being able to be there for someone, is a great feeling.  But I have absolutely no doubt that if they weren't around, we'd be fine.  The world wouldn't fall apart.  We can live a balanced life by ourselves if we so choose.

I would rather go the rest of my life alone, never getting married, than "surrender to my nature" that Venker seems to think is my femininity.  My nature, woman's nature, is to be fucking strong.  It's not to be considered less than a man.  It's not to just give in to being unequal.  It's definitely not subscribing to societal gender norms that are not correct.

So to my fellow women: keep being strong because you're the way we'll change society.

Sydnie

It Snowed Today

"Snow on the ground in Tennessee
North came south at the tops of the trees
Another long winter trying to fight this freeze
Waiting but the cold's got a hold on me"

It's amazing how much can change in a year. I didn't think I was going to make it through Christmas at this point last year (or the year before, to be honest). I haven't listened to this song (Amy, I by Jack's Mannequin) since then. It's crazy how much hold a song can have on you. The last time I heard this song, I could barely stand without wanting to give up. I couldn't go through a class or a shift at work without crying.  And as soon as this came on my player, all those feelings came rushing back.  All those nights of walking the twenty minutes home from my parking spot to my spider-infested, gross apartment.  Hanging out for days at a time with only a cat that couldn't pee in the litter box to save her life (we've worked through that.  She now never goes anywhere else).  And it just kind of hit me how completely different I feel.

"Amy, I
I never felt this kind of cold before
Amy, I
May never feel this way again
I've never felt this kind of cold"

I got help...for the second time in the many years I've been trying to fight this damn depression (going on ten years to be exact). But I wanted it to work this time.  I didn't want to give up again.  I was terrified.  I couldn't remember what I was like before the depression.  The only person I knew was Sydnie the Depressed.  It was part of me.  It was my inspiration and a bigger part of my life than anyone really knew.  I had started identifying myself with it.

"So give me a cloud, there's so much at stake
Decided to walk, there was ice on the lake
I never worry 'cause it never breaks
But I hear it cracking under my weight
Another long winter trying to fight this freeze
Waiting, but the cold's got a hold on me"

I was so scared that first day I went in to talk to someone.  What if I didn't like who I was?  What if I lost all my passion, all my inspiration?  What if all my creativity was wrapped up with those feelings of hopelessness?  Not knowing who you'd wake up to be in a couple weeks is scary.

"Amy, I
I never felt this kind of cold before
Amy, I
May never feel this way again
Amy, I
Can hear your bare feet on my bedroom floor
But Amy, I
I've never felt this kind of cold
Never felt this kind of cold on me
Never felt this kind of cold on me"

I was always very open about my depression, but I am even more so now.  I am not afraid to talk about it.  I'm not ashamed.  It shouldn't be something a person should be ashamed of.  It wasn't my fault.  I wasn't losing myself, I was rediscovering myself.  It was always the same Sydnie, just in a different chapter. 

"Amy, I
I've never felt this kind of cold before
Amy, I
May never feel this way again
Feel this way again
Amy, I
I hear your bare feet on my bedroom floor
But you're not here anymore
Amy, I
Never felt this kind of cold"

I used to say that I never wanted help.  That I could do it on my own.  But I couldn't.  And neither can anyone.  And, trust me, I know very well it can be difficult to admit that.  But when you do, you begin this pretty exciting adventure of finding out a completely different side of yourself.   And now I have a steady relationship with pretty much the coolest guy ever, I hang out with friends, I go out on the weekend, I've been keeping up on schoolwork, I know what happy feels like again.  It's been ten years since I've known that.  And to anyone else who doesn't know that feeling, you can.  You just need to reach out to anyone.  Or accept those reaching out to you.

Sydnie

SSA Conference

I went to Columbus, OH for the Secular Student Alliance Conference this weekend.  I attended awesome, informative, and inspiring talks about all different subjects like mental health, how to use social media effectively to promote AHA, unsafe assumptions, and especially where this movement is going.

I came home to my boyfriend's apartment feeling excited and hopeful for the future.   As soon as I got there, I started talking about the conference.  And when I started talking about it, his roommate started questioning everything about it.  "What do you do at the conferences?  Why do you even need them?  If you all get together and meet, it's just like a religion."  My excitement was definitely slightly dashed.

It was an immediate reminder that I was no longer in the safety of the atheist community surrounded by my peers, but thrust back into reality where people who aren't atheist, humanist, agnostic, etc. don't understand what we're trying to do.  It's not yet totally accepted to be an open atheist.   Families shun children, students get death threats.  Being an out of the closet atheist can be hurtful and damaging to relationships, jobs, social connections.  That's what this movement is about.  We're trying to show we're not satan worshiping baby eaters.  We have morals.  We're good people.  We give to charities, we help with natural disasters, we fight as soldiers.

We've changed the world's view of us, but not enough.  We've formed a community  to finish this change.  We've joined together so that we're no longer seen as atheists, but as Sydnie or Joe or Ben or Sarah. 

We've also joined together and made this strong community for a bigger and better reason: to be a safety net for new non-theists.  Transitioning out of religion is tough.  I've told my story in a previous blog post.  And there are tons of other people with similar stories.  Leaving a religion is leaving an entire life behind.  It was how I was raised and I had to turn my back on that.  And I'm so happy I found this community to fall back on.  And now I want to be that for more people.

We're not a community because we want to be like a religion.  We're a community so we can help each other and be a support system for each other.  There's something important to us that binds us together and we bond over that.

Relationships: Why They're Absolutely The Worst Things In The World

 I'm going to show why relationships are such a weird and crazy idea simply by showing the stages of most relationships, and the corresponding anxiety levels that go with them. Enjoy.

1. The “What The What, A Guy Likes Me? Why?” Stage
   The initial date request.
   So when a guy asks me out, my first reaction isn't “Oh my god yes!” It's actually, and I'm totally not making this up, “...why?” Usually it's only said in my head but every once in a while I let it slip out and then the guy looks at me like I just insulted him. But I didn't. I was legitimately asking why because I've been conditioned my entire life to believe guys want the opposite of pretty much everything I am. And I'm okay with that. I'm okay with how I am. If I wasn't, I'd change it. It just always throws me off when guys don't act how I expect them to because usually I can predict their behavior.
   Anxiety level: 2
   
   
2. The First Few Dates
   About a month ago, I was waist deep in men. Oh that sounds great. I had a lot of men. That's not better. I WAS GOING ON A LOT OF DATES. Okay. Cleared that up. So yes, lots of dates. And I would complain to anyone who would listen. And they would all roll their eyes and say how lucky I was or whatever, but I wasn't. I hate first dates with a passion. I don't ever have anything proper to wear (because my wardrobe consists of nerd t-shirts and jeans I wash maybe once a month [if I'm lucky]). If it's a laid-back date, like the zoo (it has always been my dream first date that a guy would take me to the zoo and then one did and then he broke up with me two days ago, inadvertently inspiring this post), I'll just wear a t-shirt (I wore my kickass Doctor Who Tardis shirt). But more often than not, the guy wants to take me to dinner at a kind-of-not-totally-fancy-but-fancier-than-t-shirt-place like a sushi place or something. Also, I hate sushi. It's so gross. But that's a different topic. Anyway, they're stupid and 99% of the time, I don't want to go on another so also a waste of time (but every now and then there's a guy who just surprises me...then he breaks up with me a few weeks later).
   Anxiety level: 5-9 (depending on my preexisting feelings for the guy)
   
   
3. The Awkward “What The Fuck Are We Doing?” Stage
   This is that weird period between maybe like the second or third date and when you actually decide if you're going to officially date or not. This is the phase I barely ever get past (I've only been past this stage three times actually). I hate this phase the most because I don't like not knowing what's going on between me and another person. I'll usually end up asking, “Soooooo what are we doing?” (Except the last guy. He actually asked me if I wanted to date him. I didn't have to ask. That felt really nice. He was really nice). And that's when he says he thinks I'm a really cool girl, he just doesn't know if he wants a relationship with me. Two things about that: 1) Telling me I'm a really cool girl first doesn't help. At this point if another guy says that to me before breaking it off, I will seriously punch him in the face. I know I'm awesome, I don't need that reaffirmed from some dick who was just using me. 2) Just shut up. You don't know if you want a relationship with me? Bullshit, you know. You don't want one. Grow some balls and tell me like a real man.
   I also hate this phase because I've cut it off with guys in this phase too so I know the standard break-up lines that are appropriate for this stage. And they're all lies designed to make me feel better (but they never do). So if you use one on me, trust me I'll know you're lying and I'm sure I can guess the actual reason.
   Anxiety level: 8
   
   
4. Un-focus-ability Stage
   If I do make it past stage 3 with a guy I'm really into, I get way too excited and I can't focus on anything. Which is okay if it's during the summer or something, but during school it becomes a problem, especially if it's towards the end of the year. This calms down after a month or two, and it's because of a preexisting condition (depression).
   Anxiety level: 5
   
   
5. The Comfortable Stage
   This is the only part I really enjoy. It's the part where I don't have to shave everyday. I can wander around his place in a pair of his boxers and a tank top. I don't have to worry about looking my absolute best every day because I'm comfortable with him and confident he likes me even if I look like crap. If I could just skip to this part, I'd totally be happy. I like this part a lot, but I've only gotten to it once (this sounds like a video game walkthrough).
   Anxiety level: 0
   
   
6. The Decline
   The decline usually starts when he gets too comfortable. Which, I know, is a total dick standard: I can be comfortable but he can't. That's not what I'm saying. He can be comfortable, I'd prefer it that way obviously. But what gets me is when we “get stuck in a rut” as people like to call it. We do the same things all the time. We never mix it up. And the decline will happen even faster if I'm suggesting new things to do (which I do because I get bored really easily) and he just blows it off. Don't just blow it off. It's a serious thing. When I get bored around someone, I will find someone else to hang out with that doesn't bore me.
   Anxiety level: 5
   
   
7. The Inevitable Downfall
   I'll admit it: it's usually my fault. I screw things up. Or I get bored like I just explained. But no matter what the reason, or who does the breaking up with whom, this part sucks like nothing else you'll ever experience. It's that special feeling of someone preferring others' company to your exclusive company. And it hurts, especially if he's doing the breaking up with me. There will be tears. But do it like a man. Don't text me. Don't F'book it. I even want to say don't do it over the phone. Do it in person, in a not public place. And, please, for the love of Zeus, don't start with “this is really hard for me.” It's really hard for you? How do you think I'm going to feel in a minute or two when you finally get the words out of your mouth? If it's really hard for you, don't do it. I don't understand that at all, following that phrase with a break up. It makes no sense to me. You should be sure you don't want to be with me. It shouldn't be something you're struggling with, it should be something you're sure of, because you're about to let go of a really awesome chick.
   Anxiety level: 9
   
   
8. Oh, Look, I Can't Focus Again!
   But this anti-focusing is even worse. Especially if the guy breaks up with you very suddenly two days before finals start. I can't study. I can't think. And nothing really works as a sufficient distraction. It's super awesome.
   Anxiety level: 10
   
   
9. The Crying-Not Caring-Back To Crying-Getting Stupid Drunk Stage
   This stage is the second worse besides the actual break up. It affects everyone around me. One minute I'll be crying, the next I'll be downing screwdrivers like they're water. I'll go from not caring about him to the only thing in the world I want is for him to wrap his arms around me once more. And this part is always the longest. I try to tell myself the fun times I had with him make the pain worth it, but does it really? Will it ever really make it worth it?
   Anxiety level: 8.5
   
   
10. Acceptance
    Of course depending on how long you were together, if you ever made it to an official relationship stage, etc, the acceptance can happen in multiple places. And it's simply “getting over it.” When you think about him, or the awesome times you had, you don't cry or get sad anymore. It's the “no guys, I'm really okay” stage.
    Anxiety level: 4
    
    
11. Repeat The Cycle Until You Don't Want To Interact With Humans Anymore
    And guess what?! You get to look forward to going through that cycle over and over and over and over until you're at the point where you'll vomit if one more guy asks you out!! Aren't you so super excited?! I know I am.
    Anxiety level: Early stage crazy cat lady level
    
    
12. Death
    But don't fret. You'll die eventually.
    Anxiety level: Zombie

A Small Update

I try to avoid public performing ever since the time I blacked out while playing the piano in church because I was just that nervous. That being said, last night I went to an open mic night and performed a couple poems I wrote. 1. The fact I got up on that stage and did it without anyone pushing me into it is just a flippin' miracle and I'm really proud of myself for it; 2. I've been writing poetry since high school but I never let anyone see it (most people don't know I even write that much because it's not something I'm really that open about), so to let a bar full of complete strangers hear it is something I never thought would happen.

But it was so much fun. People were cheering and laughing and being really encouraging. I don't know if they genuinely liked it or were just being nice, but either way it made the whole experience something I would (and probably will) do again.

Now the sad part: I can only write really good stuff (poetry and stories) when I'm emotionally hurting really bad. And I'm not really right now. I mean there are moments, but not enough to get those lines to pop into my head. So what's more important: creativity or stability?

Syd

You'll Pay For The Whole Seat But You'll Only Need The Edge!

This post came about because I surround myself with total nerds, which is something that I love.

So if members of the fellowship had to fight to the death against each other, how would each battle turn out? Wonder no longer, my friend! Here's a handy guide you can refer to in order to impress those lovely ladies (or just creep them out and be alone forever).

Legolas vs Gimli

If they start out a few paces away from each other (normal human paces) Legolas would win hands down. His bowetry (I love making up words) is so superb there's no way Gimli would make it within axe range of him. Legolas would take Gimli out before anyone could say, “Holy crap! Elves and dwarves aren't real! These drugs are awesome.”

If, however, they start within axe range of each other, I think Gimli would win. Not right away, of course. Legolas would jump out of the way a few times, try to shoot a few arrows, but I think Gimli could defend himself and eventually get a good killing blow in there.

Legolas vs Aragorn

This one's difficult. Initially I thought Legolas would win. But Aragorn's reflexes and all around awesomeness is better than a normal human's. I think this would be the most even fight in the fellowship. They're both superior fighters with their chosen weapons. So I'm changing my mind. Aragorn is the winner. Plus I just like him more than Legolas.

Aragorn vs Gimli

Aragorn. Definitely. Gimli could probably put up a pretty good fight. But his fighting technique is slow and brutish compared to Aragorn's.

Boromir vs Aragorn

Aragorn. I don't have to explain why do I?

Boromir vs Legolas

Legolas

Boromir vs Gimli

Gimli (Sorry Boromir but you were the only one in the fellowship to actually die. You're kind of a pussy).

Frodo vs Sam

Frodo would win. He's just more apathetic. He's always seemed like a stronger character. Don't get me wrong, I think Sam would put up an amazing fight. I mean yeah Frodo was the one to bring the ring all the way to Mount Doom (which is totally a volcano and so they could have just ridden the eagles to it and dropped the ring down the fucking top) but guess who was the only one in the fellowship to stick with him the entire way, even when Frodo tried to ditch him. Oh shit. Maybe Sam would win. No. I'm going to stick with Frodo. If not for any other reason than the fact that Sam loves Frodo and would have a fundamental problem killing him, even if put in a situation where he had to in order to survive. Sam's just not that kind of hobbit. That's why he's always been one of my absolute favorite of the fellowship.

Merry vs Pippin

I think Merry would win. Pippin's the troublemaker. He's always screwing things up. I love Pippin but Merry could kick his ass if he had to.

But here's the thing about the hobbits. Any two hobbit put against any other one person in the fellowship would win. Especially if it was Merry and Pippin or Sam and Frodo. They would fight so hard to protect each other no other person in the fellowship would win. And if you put Merry and Pippin vs Sam and Frodo... ...um I really don't know. I'm calling it a tie. If anything happened to one of either pair, the other would epically hulk out on the others.

I love LOTR.

Syd

The Battle of the Century...Apparently

Mean Girls. The epic comedy about high school. It's got a relatable main character (relatable for everyone, not just girls in high school), a quality plot, comedic prowess, great acting (especially from the often overlooked Tim Meadows), and a great message to take away from it. As I was watching it last night in preparation for this post, I was trying to find something I didn't like in it or didn't agree with. But I couldn't. That happens, but rarely. Even the current favorite film of most people, The Grey, I had a few issues with. But Mean Girls rises above the classic “chick flick.” It does more for women that the current holy-crap-women-are-people-too-movie Bridesmaids. I'll get to Bridesmaids in a minute.

So why is Mean Girls so wonderful? I think the fact that the message it puts forth is so relatable by everyone is what really makes me love it. Everyone has been through high school and had to deal with cliques. It's not fun. The main character is relatable too. She's not loved because she's pretty but because she's smart. We root for her because she's just trying to be liked and fit in, and that's what we have to do every single day of our lives.

This movie is so fetch.

While initially the plastics seem to back the stereotype of women being able to get by on their looks, it's the complete opposite. No one can watch that movie and relate to the plastics. We all get that feeling of sick satisfaction when Regina gets hit by a bus. The relationship between the plastics and Cady, and the ultimate result of the plastics breaking up and Regina no longer being an ultrabitch, is used to show that acting dumb and just getting by on looks is not the way to do it.

This movie is the opposite of the quintessential chick flick. It's not about the geeky girl taking her glasses off, wearing her hair down, and then getting the hot guy and living happily ever after. Cady take that role but only to infiltrate and destroy the plastics. It's an action/spy movie set in high school!

And here's the point I talk about Tina Fey. Put aside the fact that I am totally in love with her (just like every other person on the planet). Her character in this movie is amazing. She's like a philosophical master. She really doesn't have a ridiculous amount of screen time, but when she gets it, she uses it for good. She's the mentor. She's a strong and successful woman who's life seems like a mess. But she is profound. She says shit like “I know having a boyfriend might seem like the only thing important to you right now, but you don't have to dumb yourself down in order for a guy to like you.” Bam! That could have been the entire movie right there.

Well this has been sufficiently awkward.

So this entire post came about because I got in an argument about Bridesmaids, which seems to be everyone's go-to movie when talking about the wonderful things women have accomplished and blah blah blah. The guy I was arguing with was adamant that this movie is “an unabashed flexing of women's comedic and filmic talents that, even more so than Mean Girls, demonstrates the equal yet all-too-often undersold competency of women as lead actors and writers to the public.” First, does anyone else think it's weird that a man so often argues against women about what movies do for the societal standards of women? Shouldn't we know better? No? It's just me? Okay. It's not just against me, either. I've seen him argue against other women about this very movie. And he never listens to our points and never seems to really take into consideration that he doesn't really know what he's talking about. Anyway, that's a totally different topic. It's just something that really annoys me.

That quote is a direct quote from this argument that inspired this post. First, I don't really think the question of whether women can be lead actors and awesome writers is that relevant anymore. Women have had starring roles in pretty much every type of movie I can think of. Of course the romantic comedies are largely dominated by female leads, but action movies have been relying on women in increasing number (Kill Bill, Salt, Resident Evil, Underworld, etc). Most of those examples are from the early 2000's. And I could definitely name more. So it's not like the “competency of women as lead actors” is really in question anymore. It's not just action movies either. Horror, comedy, coming-of-age dramas, epic historical dramas (Gone With The Wind FTW), fantasy. They've all had high-grossing movies with competent, well-acted female leading roles.

And women screenwriters? Did you know a woman wrote and directed American Psycho? Because one did: Mary Harron. (And if you haven't seen that movie, go watch it. I tried really really hard to find a video of one of my favorite scenes from the movie I could embed, but I couldn't find one so just click this link instead and marvel that a woman wrote this.) Other big names (screenwriters and directors): Julie Taymor (Frida, Across the Universe), Betty Thomas (The Brady Bunch Movie [awesome], Doctor Dolittle, 28 Days), Penny Marshall (she played Laverne in Laverne and Shirley and then went on to direct Big [which was co-written by Anne Spielberg, Steven Spielberg's sister]), Nancy Meyers (she both wrote and directed The Parent Trap, What Women Want, Something's Gotta Give), Nora Ephron (When Harry Met Sally [my favorite romantic comedy of all time] she also wrote and directed Sleepless in Seattle, You've Got Mail, Julie and Julia). And do I even need to mention Sophia Coppola? She wrote and directed the masterpiece Lost in Translation. She also wrote and directed Marie Antoinette which was actually a pretty decent movie. I guess I should mention Diablo Cody too simply because Juno was such a big hit.

Just add Zooey Deschanel to make this movie the ultimate hipster wet dream.

The competency of women as writers and actors in film was not in question until Bridesmaids came out and then suddenly it was all okay and women were real people. Women have been a huge influence in film for a very long time. I did leave Tina Fey off that list but simply because we all know how amazing she is. She was the first female head-writer for SNL, she's the head-writer and star of 30 Rock. Oh and she did the screenplay for Mean Girls. So all this nonsense of making such a big fuss about Bridesmaids like it was the first comedy written by a woman is insane.

Bridesmaids isn't even a really great movie. It was entertaining but the main character is not relatable. She's portrayed as insecure and insane. The screenplay was unoriginal. If you replace the female leads with men, it would be just like the I Love You, Man types of movies.

The message of Bridesmaids? Don't go insane when your best friend is getting married? The pacing is rough, the comedy is lowbrow. The movie is simply about what's going on in a woman's life. You can't invert the gender and it would still make sense. No one would believe that a guy would go that crazy when his best friend was getting married. But everyone believes it when a woman does it (furthering the stereotype that women are crazy).

So I guess what all this is saying is that making such a big deal about Bridesmaids is nonsense. Mean Girls is worthy of that big deal because it's a far superior movie. I'll leave you with some words that were said during the argument: “A great movie has a solid plot and doesn't seem drawn out. Bridesmaids very much feels drawn out. There are a few scenes in the film that serve no purpose to the story or character development. That's a pretty big sin for a great movie. Turn on Fight Club, turn on The Dark Knight: every scene in those films are completely necessary to the work as a whole. Also, it breaks a vital rule of comedies: make the audience root for the protagonist. Wiig's character goes all irrational (rejects her friend, her love interest, and her job) with the realization at the end is that she was being irrational, I guess? Sorry, but when a character makes me dislike them, seeing them rewarded at the end with all their wishes coming true is not satisfying to me, thus the story failed.” Thanks Mike. You pretty much summed it up.

Syd

I Made A Rage Comic

Another Short Story

I don't love this man sitting across from me. I don't really care for him at all. I'm just using him for sex, just using him so I'm not alone. He doesn't know that, obviously. I should probably feel bad about it, but I don't. He wants to date me. He texts me all the time. He won't leave me alone. We see each other so often. I don't care I'm leading him on. I'm a heartless bitch.

One night we were cuddling in bed, he asked me if we were officially dating. I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't tell him the truth. So I said I didn't know. He was silent for a while, then said he was sorry. He said he thought I liked him. I told him I did like him. I don't know why I kept lying to him especially when I always told him not to lie to me. I told him I didn't want to rush into anything. I told him I wanted to get to know him better, then I'd want to date. Still lying; I need to stop. But I can't because I'm a coward.

We went on dates. We hung out all the time. But we still weren't dating. We ate together, played games together. We watched movies and cuddled. But we still weren't dating. And then I guess one night he had finally had enough. He was acting weird. He wanted to have sex but I was tired from work. At least that's what I said. It's not like my job is that difficult. I just stand and scoop ice cream for a few hours a few nights a week. I guess I was just tired of him. He started questioning me about our situation again. I told him I thought he was in this for a different reason. It was fun, but it was time to end it. He said he was in it because he cared about me and was hoping, like I said, I would one day date him. I told him we'd never be anything more than friends. He got up and left. I guess I should have felt bad, but I didn't. I didn't really care.

The next weekend we talked about it again. He cried. I didn't show any emotion at all. I just didn't care. I was never in it for him, just for myself. I didn't care about him. He kept asking why I acted like I had feelings for him when I really didn't. Time to lie again. I told him I like him but there was a disconnect when I thought about dating him. That was a horrible lie. I either need to start telling the truth or think of better lies. He said that what we were doing was dating. He said that what we were doing was what it was like to date him. He said it would be no different. But I didn't care. I was over him. Scratch that. There was nothing to be over because I never liked him in the first place. I was just using him. I'm the most selfish person in the world. I guess I should feel bad about that, but I don't.

It didn't matter at this point anyway. I had met a better guy. I started hanging out with him a lot. I still saw the first guy and he asked if we could still cuddle because he was lonely. I should have said no. I should have just left him alone. I could tell it damn near killed him every time we hung out. But I didn't leave him alone. I kept stringing him along. I would ask him whenever I saw him when he wanted to hang out again. And I could tell he didn't want to but he never says no to people he cares about. What an idiot. His life would be so much easier if he could just be as selfish as I am.

Once in December we were at a function together. We left at the same time. He asked me to come over and watch a movie with him. I said I couldn't, that I had plans with a friend. He asked if it was a guy. I said yes. I finally told him something true. He asked if I was dating the other guy. I said no. I started lying again. I had started dating the other guy in November. All while still hanging out and cuddling with him. But he wouldn't find that out for another month. And when he did, he cut all ties as much as was possible. He was absolutely disgusted that he fell for a girl as selfish and cruel, a lying bitch. We're civil these days. But he still hates me. He still wants to punch me every time he sees me. He still hates himself for ever believing a word I said. I guess I should feel bad, but I don't.

A Short Story

“Dude, Mike, Funfetti's the best cake. It's delicious; better than any other cake I've had.”

“You just think that because of the sprinkles.”

“No I don't. I don't even like sprinkles. They're chalky and gross. But Funfetti is -”

There was a loud bang. Someone was banging on the front window of the grocery store we were in.

“What the hell was that?” I started getting nervous. There were more bangs. I walked out of the cake aisle, followed by Mike. There were at least thirty people slowly banging and scratching at the window, trying to get in. But they weren't people. They were hollow shells. I kept walking toward the window. There was no life in those eyes. I realized what was happening and it felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.

“Syd!” I was snapped back to reality. One of them had found the door and Mike was trying to get me away from it. I turned around and surveyed the scared and confused faces behind me. Mike was talking to the manager.

“Syd, back room. We can barricade it up.”

“Got it. Everyone! Follow us!”

We directed everyone into the backroom. Chairs to sit down. One door back into the store – the way we came in. One other emergency exit – no outside handle; they can't get in but we have a way out. Others barricaded the door. I turned to Mike. “You saw them right? You know what we're dealing with, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What are they?” a girl asked, her voice shaking.

Mike and I both turned to look at the expectant faces. They all knew what we were facing but they wanted us to say anything else. But we couldn't. “Zombies,” we said together.

“We can't stay here, Mike.”

“We can't go out there.”

“We have to try. What about our friends at the bar?”

“That's far to go in the middle of this mess.”

“But the bigger group of people we get together, especially if it's populated with people we trust, we'll survive longer. That's all we can try for now.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Kyle. He answered, sounding panicked.

“Kyle, are you guys still at the bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Mike and I are at Madison Fresh Market. We're coming back to the bar.”

“You can't go out there.”

“We've got our bikes. We'll be there before you know it. Just clear a path for us to come in. We'll be there in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

“Kyle.”

“What?”

“Don't get bitten.”

I hung up. “We need weapons.”

We found temporary weapons – broom sticks, hammer, anything we could substantially hit one of those things with. We put them in my backpack.

“Will the alarm sound if we open that door?” I asked the manager, motioning to the emergency exit.

He walked over to it and pulled a wire out of the metal box on the top. “Not anymore.”

“Thanks.” I turned to Mike, “Ready? You have to protect me while I open our bike locks.”

“I'm ready.”

I opened the door slowly. They hadn't found the back alley, or if they had, they hadn't stayed. It was empty. A feeling of relief washed over me. I started to hope. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I had imagined it was. We walked down the alley toward the bike racks. We turned the corner and I was face to face with dead eyes. I recognized the face. It was a kid from my Literature class. He was in my group. I talked to him twice a week. His name was Jack. I had to take my mind back. I had to remind myself it wasn't Jack anymore. Jack was dead. This looked like him, but it wasn't. Before I could stare any longer, Jack took a bat to the back of the head courtesy of Mike.

“Thanks,” I said, glancing at Mike.

We made it to the bike racks. I started putting the combination into my lock, Mike at my back swinging at heads. “Done. I'm doing yours.” We moved to Mike's bike. A U-lock. So much easier. Key in, turn, open. “You're totally right, Mike. I need to get a U-lock.”

We got on our bikes and started riding toward the capital. The streets looked like the world had ended. I guess it had. How are we supposed to survive in this? I was scared but not of dying, not of being bitten. I was scared of where this situation would take us. We can't break down. We need to stay sane. We need to keep it together. Just for a little while longer. Just focus on getting to the bar where we left our friends. I didn't want to leave them, but I wasn't feeling well. The grocery store was an accident. I would have been in my apartment when this went down if I hadn't followed Mike. I would have been safe until the morning at least. But my friends would have been in danger and I wouldn't have known. It's better this way. I can look out for the people I care about. I can hold us together. Where are we going to go? What if they're dead when we get there? No. I can't dwell on the possibilities, only the reality. We're biking. Swerving to avoid those lifeless things. We'll make it. We're almost there. I could see the sign for the bar. Those things were swarming the windows and doors. We skidded to a stop, dropped out bikes.

“We'll have to fight our way in. You sure you'll be okay?”

“Mike, I'm a lot stronger than I look. Let's do this.”

I pulled a weapon from my backpack. We started into the fray. Aiming for the heads. Just hit them hard enough to at least startle them. Just buy long enough to make the door. We just need the door. The swarm was never ending. We were in the middle of it. We weren't going to make it out. Suddenly, the door. It was there. The handle. I must reach it. It swung open before I could and out charged Brian and Sam. They started swinging, aiming for the heads. “Mike, Sydnie, come on. Get inside!” Kyle was holding the door, yelling for us. I made it. I was inside. I looked around. Mike was behind me. “Are you okay?” I asked him. I was praying I didn't get him killed. “That was a stupid plan, but yeah, I'm okay.”

I turned to Brian, “Where's everyone else?”

“Downstairs. This place is actually kind of perfect for this situation.”

Thank god a basement. It's better than being surrounded by these windows. I suddenly hate the human race for wanting to look outside when they're inside. Windows are useless and dangerous.

“Let's go.”

We followed them down the stairs. The bartenders, waitresses, so many people were there. What were we going to do now? We had food. Water. Alcohol. I guess it was better than somewhere else. It was better than being alone in this mess. The world was ending, the last thing I wanted to be was alone.

Brian walked over to a case, shot a glance at one of the bartenders, and popped it open. “I assume we're not going anywhere for a while, so here. You two look like you need one.” Beer. He handed a bottle to Mike, then to me. It was good.

“So what's the plan?” I had been expecting the question. I'm surprised it took someone so long to ask. And of course it was Kyle who was first.

“I'm taking suggestions,” I replied while raising the already almost empty bottle to my lips.

Everyone kept silent. I was hoping they were thinking and not just waiting. I was out of plans. I got to where I wanted to go. I wasn't thinking five steps ahead. I was focusing on the present. I was trying to hold it together. Trying to stay sane.

“We can stay here for a while. We can rest.” I gave Mike a thankful look for suggesting it. Rest would be good. I wouldn't sleep but given some time to think would help. It would save me, for a little while at least.

I sat against the wall. It was cold. The room had become quiet. Silent. I could hear those things outside. They still knew we were here. I really hoped they would lose interest. It seemed reasonable they would leave after a while. They couldn't get in. It was reasonable to me. But those things weren't reasonable. They didn't think. They were driven by one desire: to feed. They were reduced to one primal human instinct. It was terrifying. I was seized by fear. The mere thought of having to walk up those stairs, face those eyes again, made me feel light-headed. The edges of my vision started getting black. No, not yet. I couldn't let this darkness complete itself. I fought it back. Had to hold on.

I had to focus on something else, something real. I was still gripping my weapon. I was holding onto it so tight. My knuckles were white and my fingers hurt when I let go. It was just a metal bar. It was used to hold up the shelves in the grocery store. It was wide and flat, had hooks on the ends. There was so much blood on it. I took my sweatshirt off. I only had a tank top on underneath but the cold was of no consequence to me anymore. And when we start fighting again I'll get warm. I used my sweatshirt to clean the blood-spattered weapon.

“It'll just get dirty again,” Sam said. He had been watching me. I didn't even feel his eyes on me. My sense of the world around me was dulled. I needed to fix that if I wanted to make it out alive.

“I have to do something with my hands. I can't sit still.”

“You should try to sleep a bit. I'll wake you up if anything happens.”

“How would anyone sleep right now? Don't worry, I'm fine. I'll be fine.” I tried to smile. It didn't come out right.

We sat in that basement for two hours but it felt like so many more. I was ready to move. I got up and walked across the room and sat down next to Mike.

“How long are we staying here?”

“We've got nowhere to go, Syd.”

“So we're just going to sit here forever? There's got to be cops or the military doing something out there. There's no way they'd leave us alone to fight this.”

I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I know how this ends. The majority of us are not going to make it. So the question becomes do you want to just sit here and wait to either starve or until they break through the windows up there? Or make a run for it? At least give it a shot. Living. We can make it. I'd rather try to find some help than just sit here and wait to die.”

“I'm not going out there!” One of the bartenders had overheard. I didn't even see him that close. Fuck. I wanted to have a plan before I told everyone what I was thinking.

“We're going out there?! You can't! You'll get killed!” A waitress. She was too scared. A liability. All these people I didn't know, I didn't trust, were liabilities. They weren't going to last. But I knew the four guys – Mike, Brian, Sam, Kyle – I knew they could do it. We had a fighting chance.

“Okay. I don't want to sit here and wait to die. I'm going out there to look for help...rescue...a savior,” I said. I had to fight to keep my voice even. I didn't want to go out there but sitting here waiting to die was worse than those things. “Anyone coming with me?”

Mike stood. “Yeah me.” I never doubted he would.

“I'm coming with you too,” Brian said. He got his weapon from the shelf he had set it on and headed towards the stairs.

“Kyle? Sam?” I was worried. They hadn't said anything.

“Yeah I'm coming,” Kyle said.

“Sam?”

“I can't. I've got to go home. Eloise is there. I need to be there with her.” He would have to go alone. I understood. We all did.

Everyone else remained silent. Good. I didn't want them slowing us down anyway. Only people I trust. Only people I knew would look out for me.

“Good. Let's go.” I started slowly up the stairs. I was gripping my metal stick too tight. My fingers hurt. But I only noticed for a second, then I got to the top of the stairs. They had lost interest in the windows, in us, but there were still swarms in the streets. Searching for food. Waiting for a human to slip up, to show their face.

I was about to reach for the door when Sam stopped me. “Let me go first,” he said. “I'll distract them. Give you guys a chance to get out of here.”

“Sam, no. You'll get yourself killed.” I pretended to protest but all I felt was relief. I didn't know if it was relief that I didn't have to go first or relief that actually going was being put off longer with this conversation. It didn't matter which it was, all that mattered now was the feeling.

“I'll be fine. I can outrun those bastards.”

“Okay. I'll see you when this is all over.”

He nodded. Said goodbye to the other guys, then ran out the door. The swarms immediately turned and started after him. We all knew we'd never see him again.

There was nothing else to do but open the door. I looked at the three men who still had my back. I trusted them. They were ready. So was I. My hand to the doorknob. It was so cold. Just like everything else in this world now.

I opened it. The cold air hit me like a softball to the stomach. We stepped out of the bar. Weapons ready. We started swinging. That sound. The cracking sound made when a head takes a metal bar to it. It's unlike any sound.

Through the madness I had to keep our plan in my head. I had to keep us focused, on track. We had to keep it together.

“Sydnie! Brian!” It was an urgent call. Fear seized me. I didn't want to turn around but I had to.

It was Mike calling us. He had stopped, standing in the middle of the street. Frozen. We all froze. Kyle was gone. Dead. The shell that remained was no longer the Kyle I knew. I ran to Mike.

“We have to keep moving. He's gone. There will be time later to deal.” I didn't want to think about it. I couldn't. There was no opportunity there. We had to keep moving.

We kept moving. Running for what seemed like forever. I was tired. I could feel the darkness slowly closing in. I had to fight it off. Finally we felt far enough away from those things we could slow our pace. I looked around. We were in a residential area. A place I had been through many times. It was all giant houses overlooking a lake. It used to seem so friendly and peaceful. Now it was dark and lonely. There was no one left.

We found a house that was open and went inside. We sat on the floor in what used to be a living room.

“Are both of you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah.” It was so dark but I recognized Mike's voice. Brian didn't answer.

“Brian? Are you okay?” I asked a second time. I knew the answer. He would not have put off answering if it was something we wanted to hear.

“No. I'm not doing very well.”

I pulled out a flashlight from my backpack. I turned it on and found Brian. He was pale. He looked sick. He was sick. They had infected him. He would be gone soon.

“Where?” I asked him. I tried to sound comforting, but it just came out even and unfeeling. He pulled up his sleeve. There was the bite. Dark. Repulsive. Cold.

I touched Brian. He felt so cold. “Brian, there's nothing we can do for you.”

“I know. When I turn, you have to kill me.”

I stood up. I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to be there anymore. But I couldn't be anywhere else. I waited. Mike had left the room. He didn't want this either. None of us did.

Brian turned. I ended him.

I found Mike in a room upstairs. “What do you want to do? I don't think any of those things are out there. So we can stay here for a while. Or we can keep moving. Try to find something else, someone else.”

He didn't speak. I went downstairs again. I sat and I waited again. There was time now. There was time to deal. I was so tired. I was trying to think steps ahead. Where would we go from here? Or maybe we should just hold up here. I didn't want to think about Kyle or Brian. The people I had lost. There was no use. The world was ending. There were bound to be losses. But I couldn't help it. Tears came. Then the darkness started closing in again, but this time I didn't fight it, hoping it would be the last time.

I awoke to Mike yelling my name. He was standing over me. I was on the floor. I had passed out. He was yelling something else but I couldn't comprehend it. I thought I was dreaming. I thought for just a second the whole night had been a dream. Then one of those things came up behind him. He turned swiftly and disposed of it. That snapped me back to reality. I jumped up with my weapon already in my hand.

“Where did they all come from?” There were swarms of them. So many. Former people. Shells. Hollow.

They broke through the windows. We had to get out of there. They broke through the back door. We were trying so hard to get them off us. But they were everywhere. I turned to Mike to try and tell him we need to get upstairs. He wouldn't have heard me. One of those things was biting into his neck. He dropped his bat. It was over. More of them swarmed around him. He yelled from pain but then was silenced. And I was alone.

I killed my way to the stairs and sprinted to a bedroom. I shut the door, locked it. Barricaded it with a dresser I knocked over nearby. It was good enough. They would break through eventually. The door wasn't even real wood. I took stock. I had my metal bar, but that was it. My backpack was downstairs. I was so tired. My hands hurt. I lost it. Everything. Everyone. My family was probably gone. My friends. The few people I wanted to protect. I didn't care anymore. I opened one of the windows and stepped out onto the porch roof. They were scratching and banging at the bedroom door. Soon they would be in. I sat down. The sky was getting light. The sun. I had forgotten that days go on even when your world is ending. I could just see the edge of the sun over the horizon when they broke through the door. A wave of relief washed over me and I knew it was done.

7 Things That Annoy Me (And I Might Stop Being Friends With You For)

1. The word “moist.”

   I hate this word with a fiery passion rivaled only by gods. It is the worst word in the entire English language. There's no way you can make it sound good. Moist cake? I'm suddenly not so hungry. Moist towelette? No thanks. I'll just wash my hands in the bathroom. I think the biggest problem is somehow, and I have no clue how this happened, but somehow in the past years whenever someone says moist I think of sex. But not the good parts of sex. Just all the bad, gross, fluidy parts. I bet you have a much more interesting take on moist cake now, right?

2. Kids who pack up their stuff five minutes before class ends.

   Hey, idiots who do this. There is no way anywhere you have to go would require that you get out immediately when class ends. I mean I never pack up until we're dismissed and do you know when I leave the classroom? About 10-20 seconds after class ends. Seriously. And then I hop on my fixie and go to Genna's where I drink PBR and listen to bands you've probably never heard of. There is absolutely no reason to disrupt my learning with that annoying nonsense.

3. Using real science during a hypothetical conversation.

   Let me define “hypothetical conversation” in the way I mean it here. Sometimes when I'm in a group of people I like to propose really crazy situations and see how people would respond. Or if other people do the same thing, I love to take part in the conversation. Usually with this type of conversation, real-world science may be brought up, but it's never used to discourage someone's response. Most of the people I spend my time with know that when engaged in this type of conversation, everything in the real-world goes out the window. My favorite example is talking about what type of superhero is the best or what type you'd most want to be. This scenario becomes totally stupid and futile to talk about if we're basing it in this world. However, there are those people I run into that love to just shoot down everything I propose with science nonsense. Fuck science! If I'm engaging in a conversation about superheroes I don't want all my suggestions shot down with real-world stuff. I want to be able to imagine I can do whatever I want. Another example, the one that really made me realize how much I hate this: The conversation turned to ways the human race could destroy itself. I believe it will someday. I have absolutely no faith in us. So I was listing some ridiculous ways (a Planet of the Apes scenario, which I still believe would be the coolest way ever), but then I thought of a real way. Nuclear war. And immediately someone jumped in and said that even if nuclear war happened some people would survive. Obviously, being a Philosophy major, I was never too good at science. I was really really bad at science. I still am. I barely passed rocks for jocks (Geology 101). So I didn't know if he was right or wrong. But then someone else piped up and said he was wrong, that if nuclear war happened, the nuclear winters and stuff would probably kill everyone who didn't die in the blast or some stuff. I don't know where I'm going with this. I guess the biggest issue I have with pulling real-world science into non-real-world hypothetical conversations is that I then get alienated and can no longer participate in the conversation because I have no clue what you're talking about or if what you're saying is true or not. And no one likes that feeling. Moving on.

4. Driving.

   Don't get me wrong, I love driving (although, I liked driving before it became mainstream). It's my favorite activity, especially speeding down country roads. But it's the other drivers that annoy me. From people who speed up, pass me, and then slow down when they get in front of me, to people who don't understand how four-way stops work, to even the kids who freely step out in front of my car when I'm driving on campus. There's just a lot that other people do that frustrate me and then make me shake my steering wheel like I'm making James Bond a martini. I won't go into much more detail because I think other drivers annoy everyone.

5. Being immature when I'm trying to talk about something serious.

   I am not a very mature person. I definitely can be when I need to be. But when I'm in a good mood with people I love, I'll be the first one to say “that's what she said” or be sitting there making dick jokes. I love it. I love the subtle, high-end jokes as well, but sometimes you just have to make a dick joke. But when I'm trying to talk about something serious going on in my life, I want the person I'm talking to to take it somewhat serious as well. If you're making jokes to cheer me up, cool because it'll probably work. Nothing makes me happier than someone else making me laugh with some good puns or whatever. I guess I'll give you an example. When I was still with my last boyfriend (it must have been somewhere in late '09) my parents were seriously thinking about getting a divorce. I didn't tell anyone about it. But I wanted to talk to someone about it so I went to my boyfriend. He couldn't take the conversation seriously. He just sat there quoting Futurama and being stupid. It was actually one of the biggest reasons I broke up with him later on, he just could not be mature or take anything seriously. I really don't want you to get the wrong impression, I love being stupid and making jokes. But you have to be able to recognize situations when you need to cut down on the jokes and try to just be mature and supportive. He never could do that. And I've known other people who couldn't either. I guess it's all about being able to read the situation correctly, which some people have real trouble with.

   (A little side note that doesn't warrant it's own number. Something that can annoy me to no end is some people's sense of humor. I've been able to surround myself with people who find the same things funny as I do lately, luckily. But when I was dating that guy I was talking about before, most of the jokes made in his group, and by him, were just quoting shows. Quotes have their place. If you slip them into a conversation at the right moment, they can work perfectly. But not if the quote is the whole joke. I heard that joke once when I watched the show it came from, why do I want to hear it again from someone not as funny?)

6. Modern/Abstract Art

   Ugh. Being a former art student, I kind of feel a little bad about this one. I should appreciate it for whatever meaning the artist is trying to get across. But I don't. I think 98% of modern art sucks and about 99.99999% of abstract art sucks. I won't appreciate a piece of artwork if I could reproduce it in ten minutes. I suck at art so I want real artists to be producing thought-provoking, world-changing pieces. But, I gotta say, it's been a long time since I've come across one. The best example of this is from the Milwaukee Art Museum. When I was going to the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, I pretty much lived at the MAM. You walk in and down the first corridor and there's ancient works and death masks, paintings and portraits I could never recreate in a million years. It's beautiful artwork. But then you make the mistake of going upstairs. And the one piece that really annoyed me then, even when I was an art student and actually tried taking an interest in art pieces being produced today (when I wasn't waiting in the coffee shop you've probably never heard of for my one pump, extra shot, soy, extra hot grande caramel macchiato), was one that consisted of three giant canvases hanging on the wall. Do you want to know what was painted on each canvas? The primary colors. That's it. One canvas was blue, one red, and one yellow. Really? I could do that in five minutes and it's in a frickin' art museum? I'm sure the artist had some deep meaning behind it, but if I can't guess the hidden layers of your art by studying it, then it doesn't matter what you meant it as, it only matters what you put on canvas, my friend. And no matter how long I stared at that wall, all I could think was, “If that's all it takes to be an artist, then I want to do something more challenging with my life.” So I did. I'm a Philosophy major now. So I guess I should say thank you lazy artist. I don't remember who you are. But because of you, I realized I was never meant to be in art school so I dropped out. Best decision I've ever made.

   Oh abstract art! It's just stupid. Again, I think if you're going to go super modern or abstract with your art, it has to still be in a way that the normal person can get the meaning you were going after. Otherwise the art doesn't mean anything to anyone viewing it. I know it still means something to you, and I've done pieces like that too. They only mean something to me, not to anyone else in the world. But those are the pieces I don't hang on my walls. I don't know. Maybe I just have a too narrow view of art, but then again it's all subjective so you can't really say I'm wrong.

7. Preachy vegans (or vegetarians or pretty much preachy anything).

   I understand, okay. It's a big life change going from eating delicious delicious meat to eating not delicious meat, but that does not mean for one second I want to hear about it twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week (or what some call 24/7, but that's just too mainstream for me). I really don't want to hear about it if you only did it because you think killing animals is wrong. I don't care. Really. I love ham and bacon and chicken and even the occasional cow-meat-patty (It's called a hamburger. You've probably never heard of it). But I'm not going to preach about how awesome meat is all the time. So why do you think I'd want to hear about how awesome not-meat is? And don't give me that tofu crap. Ew. That stuff is nasty. Worse than tuna. I have nothing against vegans or vegetarians but I don't want to hear about it all the time. You're more interesting than that. I believe you can find something else to talk about. And that goes for all preachy people, whether it be religion, food, or circumcision (I have heard enough about foreskin in the past week to satisfy the foreskin quota for the rest of my life).

Syd

Cookies And Gender Stereotypes

I just spent almost two hours looking for cookie recipes online so I can make cookies for the AHA meeting tomorrow. “But that would only take like five minutes,” you say. “Just google the type of cookie you want! It's literally that simple.” I know you're just trying to help, but (A) I didn't ask for your help. I know how to google, du unwissend Nutte! (B) No. It's not that simple. Not for me.

See my epic problem is I love cooking and baking for other people (note the “other people” part. That's why all the meals I eat in my apartment come out of my microwave. That and my stove is fucking scary. I'm pretty sure I'd burn the entire city down if I just turned it on.), but I absolutely hate the part of being in the kitchen and actually doing the baking/cooking. Needless to say I'm not very good at being a proper woman (because we're just supposed to stay in the kitchen right?). I enjoy the part where I actually deliver the food the most. The look on people's faces when you hand-deliver homemade food that you cooked/baked exclusively for them is just flippin' priceless. Seriously. If you've never experienced that, you need to before you die. But the actual making of the food sucks.

That's what I look like in the kitchen. Of course not as adorable.

The sad panda thing is that everything I cook/bake turns out fucking delicious. I mean nations would literally go to war over it. That's how delicious it is. But nobody ever knows that because I hate cooking.

So anyway. That all was slightly off topic but not really. I mean it was all within the same topic family. It was just the weird uncle who's 6' 6”, has a pretty Castro-looking beard, crazy eyes, and is obsessed with guns (description based on one of my uncles. At first glance he looks scary, but he's really one of the nicest men ever). Relevant, but kinda scary if you don't know him. Again I'm digressing. Apologies. I have a lot running through my mind right now and none of it is about cookies.

My uncle. My family is ridiculous and awesome.

COOKIES! “Sydnie shut up,” you're probably groaning at your screen. But jokes on you I can't hear you. “So why isn't finding cookie recipes online easy for you? What are you, an idiot?” Well yes, but not in the way you think I am! I found plenty of wonderful sounding recipes, but they all take so long and have ingredients that I would waste my money on for this one instance and then put in a cupboard and never use again. I hate that. Why can't everything just be made up of the same six ingredients? Life would be so much simpler.

New York strip. Now made from vanilla extract, salt, milk, eggs, flour, and butter flavored shortening.

And since when is “butter flavored shortening” a thing? That has to be a recent invention. I mean it's an advance in cooking technology because, well, I assume if you use “butter flavored shortening” you wouldn't need butter right? So thanks Crisco for cutting down on ingredients. But anything that freely writes “butter flavored” on the package makes me want to vomit. It reminds me that I live in a country where people won't eat anything unless it's fried, chocolate covered, or slathered in so much butter you might as well just be eating deep fried butter (which is totally a thing! It is the grossest thing ever! I would like to meet the person who came up with that, raise my hand like I want to give them a high five, and then take it away when they go to hit it).

Wernstrom!

So I find tons of recipes that all take way too much time (I've only got a few hours between my last class and the meeting, people, I can't slave over a hot stove all day!) and/or use ingredients that I really don't want to waste my precious money on. I have found some that don't take a lot of time, but again the moneys. So you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to just say screw it and buy cookie dough and then just bake that. No one will have to know it's not homemade. Granted, one person in the group will know because he will probably read this eventually. But hopefully he'll make a pact with me not to tell anyone that the cookies weren't homemade... ...and to lose our virginities by prom night (I did your joke for you).

Some of my specialties (if I like you a lot and you ask me, I'd probably make you one or all of these):

• Lasagna

• Sandwiches (Hey look! My dream of being a proper woman isn't lost after all.)
• Mac 'n Cheese
• My Grandma's Spaghetti
• Fudge
• Butter Noodles (simple, but easy to mess up if you're a n00b)
• Puppy Chow (that actually is really simple)
• Lots of other types of pasta. When I lived in Janesville, I learned to get really creative with pasta dishes.
• Cakes, especially boob shaped ones.

Yes. Manda and I made this for Kaylee's birthday. It even had candy nipples under the frosting.

Syd

To The Hospital, And Beyond!

I woke up. "Oh fuck ow!" My right side was killing me. It was like my insides were revolting against me. "Hey, organs, screw you! You can't revolt, you'll die without me." But they wouldn't listen. All day every time I walked around, which is all I do when I've got classes, I would have sharp pains coming and going. It stopped for a while after I managed to stumble through an exam in my Philosophy 210 class. I thought it was over. But no. About half an hour later, the pain got so bad, I had to call the doctor. That's a major thing. I'm not really phased by physical pain. I can deal with a lot of it. And I hate going to the doctor's office. So to freely call the doctor because of pain, it was bad.

I have to go to the hospital.

They told me to go to the ER at the UW Hospital. So I called my mom to come pick me up, and then told my TA for the class that was about to start that I was going to the hospital. My mom got me and we went to the ER. It has changed a lot since the last time I was there. It was all nice and rebuilt.

First they made me pee in a cup. It was another instance when the only thing in the world I wanted was a penis. It would be so much easier. That and then I could have gone outside and pissed my name in the snow. I just want to mark all the snow.


Then they took me back to a room. My doctor came in. He was super serious so the entire time I was trying to make him laugh. He sat down and started asking me questions. He asked me if I'm sexually active. I hate that question. How am I supposed to answer that? I'm not currently doing that, I have before, I'd be open to it if the right guy asked. Blergh. I stumbled through the awkward questions while my mother was sitting there, listening to all the answers.

After that, he said he wanted to give me a pelvic exam. Fuck. That. I really tried to say no, but he said with the pain I was having, it would be best if he did one. The nurse that was in the room, who was actually very nice, told me she wanted me to just relax and spread my legs like a frog.

This was the only frog I could think of. Thanks Foul Bachelor Frog.

After that ordeal, they put in an iv and took some blood. I love watching that part. It's so cool.


Then another resident doctor came in and said he was going to ultrasound my tummy so he could look at all my awesome organs. He and another doctor came in. The doctor was teaching him how to ultrasound and look for this and that. It was pretty awesome. They lost my gallbladder though. They couldn't find it except for when they came at it from one certain way.

After all that, I had to just sit there and wait for like an hour and a half. Finally yet another doctor came in, told me all my tests were turning up negative so far, pushed on my stomach, and then said they'd be getting me out of there in a little bit. Wait for another chunk of time that seemed like forever, and then the nurse came back in and said there was nothing wrong with me and I could go home.


- Urine sample
- Pelvic exam
- Blood samples
- and an ultrasound
and there's nothing wrong with me. It still hurts. But I'll be fine. And it was quite an adventure.

Syd

A Letter

Dear religious people,
Standing outside the Humanities building with giant signs saying "GOD HATES SIN" and a giant picture of an aborted fetus isn't making you seem tolerant. It's definitely not making me like you any better.

I have a plan though. I stumbled across a picture of Freddie Mercury with a unicorn a few weeks ago. I'm going to make that into a giant sign (because seriously, who doesn't like Freddie Mercury and unicorns?) and then go stand in Library Mall holding that sign and yell about how if you have an abortion it's no biggie or if you're gay it's all good. You're not going to hell for making a mistake or being yourself. I'll yell that everyone can believe whatever they want and I won't hold it against you. I may want to have intelligent conversations about it, but I definitely won't call you stupid or evil or any other nonsense.

I'm sick of the churches and religions making everyone so afraid. It's why I left that life. Most of my childhood, I only pretended to believe in the Lutheran teachings because I was terrified of spending an eternity burning. Who thinks it's a good idea to scare children into mindlessly believing something with the threat of SUFFERING FOR ETERNITY?! How does anyone raised in that mindset come out normal? I'm so glad I made it out alive.

I'm not saying it's a bad thing to believe all that stuff. Each person deserves to do whatever makes him or her happiest. But raising your children like that isn't letting them decide what will make them happy. It's telling them that this one thing should make them happy and if it doesn't, there's something wrong with them.

That's what I thought. I thought there was something wrong with me because I never really felt that connection that everyone else seemed to feel. I never had those instances when I knew God was watching over me. And as I grew up and went through being mercilessly teased by everyone in my class throughout grade school, becoming depressed, talking about suicide with the only person in the school that would talk to me, and then going to high school and becoming even more depressed and alone and helpless, my lack of connection with God became even less. When I reached out for help, do you know what they told me? They didn't tell me there was something wrong with the chemicals in my brain. They didn't tell me that I needed to see a professional for help.

They told me to pray.

So I did. Every. Single. Night.

I sat on my floor in my room. I cried. I begged. And you know what I got in return? Nothing. No one ever helped me. No benevolent being saw my suffering and decided it was enough, decided that he should reach out to a helpless little kid. I had to get myself out of that alone. I was all on my own.

So before you invade my campus with disgusting signs and call me a heathen, maybe you should try to think about my perspective. I know I'm not the only one who has a story like that. And it makes me dislike you even more when you judge me without even thinking about where I've been.

With love,
Syd