Saturday, June 28, 2008

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

One Woman's Opinion: The Midwest Sucks.


I have been living in American Midwest, Michigan specifically, for roughly a month. I must admit that I have never been a big supporter of the Midwest. Why is it so flat? Why is it so conservative? Why do Indiana and Ohio exist? However, since I voluntarily decided to spend 3 months in Michigan, I decided to fly to the fly-over states with a moderately open-mind.

Despite good intentions, I have found that yes, it’s true, the Midwest does really suck. I may not be the most bipartisan opinion considering I am currently bitter and bored: I desperately miss my New England heady hamlet and am currently living the life of a single alcoholic 60 year old (watching 3 hours of Law & Order on basic cable guzzling a big bottle of wine).

My observations of the Midwest are not of an up and coming indie city like Kansas City or Detroit. These observations, in anthropology called “field notes,” are based upon my assessment of the very worst of this, my Midwestern town. I should mention that there is some indie and heady cred in this college town, but I’m in a bad mood, so I won’t be focusing upon that. Note: these assessments are not based upon scientific data and may be exaggerated.

  1. Jesus has risen, apparently in the Midwest. People here love Jesus. A lot. Driving around with my dad, I was blinded by Christ’s light, finding that 1 in every 10 cars had God as their co-pilot. “God Saves” and “God is Love” adorned lots of midsize sedans. A sticker of kids praying at a cross decorated the back of a pickup truck. What happened to Calvin peeing on a ford sign? Driving across the state, I saw a billboard stating “90 percent of women regret their abortions.” I’d pay my last $20 to see where they got their "research," but it was sponsored by a church, so it must be true. I have driven a lot around this country and I have never seen so many Jesus car stickers as I have in the Midwest. Barak Obama said that people in this country cling to guns and religion because they do.
  2. Everyone is overweight and tragically unfashionable. Every time I leave my house, I feel like I am at the mall, which is really nightmarish. Girls love Aeropostale, Pac Sun, and hair-straighteners. Dudes love looking like bros. My father is a known weightist (a made-up word for the dislike of heifers) and while he says, “Jesus! Look at that person! She can barely get out of her car!” I try to defend the 300 lb woman, stating she probably doesn’t have the education of or luxury to good food and exercise. But, I am really smirking and agreeing with my “make sure you get a run in” father.
  3. The Midwest has the reputation for being friendly. I don’t know how that came to be because everyone here is an asshole. I had some tacky girl (see no. 2) at a coffee shop give me major attitude about grinding some whole beans for me. For some reason, the pissed-off, I hate you/me barista attitude is more acceptable if it comes from a good looking, well-dressed, or barista/screen-printer and not from some 17-year-old who loves sparkly shirts and Rhiannon’s new single .
  4. The accent is unbearable; think Eliza Doolittle (thank you, Emily) meets the cartoon matriarch of Bobby’s World. The Midwest accent is thought of as honest and earnest, but I think it makes people sound stupid, country, and uncultured. But maybe you just hate what you are: there is proof (on video!) that at age 5, I had a god-awful Midwestern accent: “Asked” was “aaased.” Luckily I moved to New York shortly after and I lost the Midwest accent without gaining a Long Island accent. However, occasionally, I will still call my father “Ded” not “Daaad.” And to be fair, I hate almost all accents unless they are derived from Europe. Southern? Long Island? Cringe.

What I hate most about the Midwest is what I hate most about the U.S.; Americans are fat, tacky Jesus freaks. My wish for the Midwest is that the whole region would flood. Just kidding! A wise woman once said that the Midwest gets its pokey, uncool reputation because it is pokey and uncool. Any rising scenes from the Midwest should stop lamenting the superiority of the Northeast and Brooklyn and celebrate the fact that they were at all able to become “hip” while being surrounded by fatties and bible-thumpers. It’s quite an accomplishment, Bon Iver!

Friday, June 20, 2008

Knocked Up

Did you know that Florida has the most sex-offenders per capita?

My mother says that during this time of the year, women are either getting married or giving birth (or maybe both, Jessica Alba!). She didn’t mention that it was girls who were giving birth (although she won't go to the mall on a Friday night because the 17-year-old shopping for low-rise stretch jeans while their toddler screams in the stroller is just too depressing. Ah, how the apple doesn't fall far from the tree).

I am not the authority on who should or shouldn’t have children or who is ready and who isn’t. However, it is my opinion that a 35 year old woman is more equipped to care for a child than a 17 year old girl. But our media and gossip rags would like to paint a different picture. Teenage, young, and unmarried mothers have become so freakin' hot and babies have replaced the lap dog as the latest accessory.

Just yesterday, 17 year old Jamie Lynn Spears gave birth. When Spears became pregnant at 16, she claimed she didn’t know about birth control, becoming the literal covergirl for the inadequacy of abstinence-only education. In this, our progressive and civilized society, we should be embarrassed that a sexually active teenager did not know about or wasn’t given access to birth control even though its been FDA approved since 1960.

Jamie Lynn Spears’s situation could have been perpetuated by neglectful, idiotic or religious parents (or maybe the trifecta) but clearly our inability to provide young women with sex education and safe and accessible birth control is a huge problem fueled by the government and the media, and is directly effecting teenage girls.

President Bush instituted Abstinence-Only “Education” at the beginning of his presidency defying doctors, psychologists, common sense, and history in general. Bush's inane policies have been widely criticized for being misleading, counteractive, and just stupid. In 2007, a study found that middle schoolers who took part in abstinence-only education were just as likely to have sex as teenagers as there peers who weren't educated about true love waits, etc. Presumably, the kids who had real sex education might know what a condom or birth control is and the other students are Jamie Lynn Spears and the over 750,000 pregnant girls a year like her.

I recently watched Judd Apatow’s 2007 film, Knocked Up, a film based upon an unplanned pregnancy and the wackiness that ensues after unprotected sex. The main character, Alison, lives in her sister’s guesthouse and receives a promotion at work; not exactly someone who is ready to have and raise a child. A couple marijuana jokes and an unsexy sex scene later, Alison, gets, ha, ha, knocked up by Ben, who is even more unequipped to raise a child than she is. I don’t care that Alison decides to keep the baby and they both decide to raise it; the movie wouldn't have been made if Alison had an abortion because abortion is neither comedic gold nor socially acceptable. It is troubling, however, that in a movie about an unplanned pregnancy, abortion is only mentioned when referred to as “smbortion” (by adults, not kindergartners) and as the 1950’s sanitized phrase “taking care of it.” Ignoring abortion undermines it as a reproductive choice legal since 1973. Alison is not outwardly religious but she doesn't so much discuss her choices with her sister, Debbie. “Smbortion” is mentioned by the most dimwitted and insensitive of Ben’s friends and Alison is told to “take care of it” by her cold, snobbish mother. Coupled with a movie like Juno, where the main character pops one out and hands it over to a loving and deserving adoptive mother in a matter of two hours, who wouldn’t think that having a kid is fun looks hot and sounds good?

High school girls in Gloucester, Massachusetts thought so. A group of high schoolers decided to make a "pregnancy pact" and have babies together. Gloucester, a largely Catholic area ("the virgin mother," enough said.) sex education ends in the 9th grade, leaving kids to fend for themselves at a time when a lot of teenagers begin having sex. Gloucester is also a very depressed area and while these schools have failed preparing students for college or skilled employment, they've decided to have kids instead. And, Omg, Nicole Richie looked so cute with her little baby bump.

Pregnant teenage girls should not be treating pariahs of society (I'm looking at you, mom/me). But teen pregnancy also shouldn't be ignored when it so simply could be solved with comprehensive sex education and affordable and available contraceptives. Good parenting that instills love and confidence in children would help too, although sadly, that is harder to come by. Telling kids not to just say no! to sex is futile and the glamorous life of young pregnancy stops on the glossy pages of the magazines. While Angelina Jolie can hire someone to help care for her 300 kids, girls in Gloucester will have to do it all alone.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Hotel Bar

Coworkers come in their business wear to drink and talk about what they cannot at their desks; they are bitter Catholics after having attended Catholic high school; their mothers are upset that they are Muslim; their rents are too expensive or a great deal in their city far from here; there are no women in the world who do not wish to change their husbands; the two most important words for any married man to know are "yes dear." Barely veiled frustration with one's existence in the world reveals itself in misogynistic cliches and other forms of lazy, poorly articulated hatred.
Beefeater gin and tonics are three dollars, free with a room number. A basketball game assumes center stage; between quarters, MIA's "Paper Planes" plays in a commercial for a summer movie about teenage boys on a wild adventure in a stolen car. Or something like it.
The whistles blow in the game, high heels on carpet, "there are more attorneys in America than there are teachers," "would you like another drink?", shrill laughs and dinner plans, the wine list.
The guests wait, the employees offer advice on what to see in their city, everyone avoids sitting alone.

Monday, June 9, 2008

girl talk.



Sex and the City. Four words, four women and a major media frenzy has left everyone from credible news outlets (I’m looking at you, New York Times) and un-credible late night talk hosts (Jimmy Effing Kimmel) unable to talk about anything else. Carrie and the gals have been called everything from groundbreakers to whores in the media and the reviews of the movie are left somewhere in-between. Since seeing the movie a week ago my own assessment lies somewhere in the (heather) gray area. SATC, The Movie is like Carrie’s fashion choices: fanciful, glamorous, and a bit silly. But it is also unrealistic, vapid, and, well, just…stupid.
The women of SATC that women of the city and virtually everywhere else have come to love on HBO, syndication, or DVD are now older, wiser, and wealthier on the big screen. In the series the gals loved to shop and drink, but they also had real jobs and real relationship issues. Don’t get me wrong, it was still a fantasy world. In what world does a freelance writer afford an Upper East Side apartment and $500 stilettos? When does a partner at a law firm have time for drinks seven days a week? Still, as a viewer, I felt that these women were somewhat real. Sometimes, I even wanted to grab a Cosmo and join in on the girl talk.
In the big screen adaptation, however, my love for these women was lost. Four years later, the fearsome foursome are still teetering along the streets in four inch heels; in Brooklyn, with Big, babies, and Botox.
Fast forward (so you don’t actually have seen the movie): Carrie is finally happy with a very sexy Mr. Big and although it’s practically a footnote in the movie, she has published three books. Big has footed the bill for a penthouse on Fifth Ave. and Carrie has invited 200 guests to their wedding. Samantha lives in L.A. with her younger man, Smith. Much to her chagrin (and ego), Smith is central to her PR firm and she eases her ego with trips to Rodeo Drive and a lap dog, a la Paris Hilton (There is nothing sadder than a 50-year-old version of Paris- Ed.). Miranda is still a successful and cranky lawyer and wife. She loves her son, hates Brooklyn, and hasn’t had sex in six months. Charlotte is on Park Avenue cloud nine; she’s adopted the trendy Asian baby and still has time for a run and sex three times a week with her Harry husband.
No, spoiler alerts, I’ll just say that the women hit some bumps in the roads in their relationships (except for Charlotte who becomes pregnant and just gets a bump). After one Big bump for Carrie, the gals end up in Mexico, where the women show their stripes for both fierce friendships and being elitist assholes. Attempting to put Carrie’s broken life back together, Miranda has gotten Carrie her apartment back and Samantha is hiring movers. Looking at her friends glued to their BlackBerry’s, Carrie states, “Wow. You two could run the world.” Perhaps a nod to women’s general do-it-all altruistic motives or motioning to Hillary Clinton’s over-qualified presidential bid, Carrie states the obvious; women, however stifled by gender inequality can do it all.
But these women are also the shameful prototypes of upper middle class America. Charlotte won’t eat anything because “it’s Mexico.” Samantha assumes she can buy everything and everyone because she’s white and wealthy. Carrie mourns a relationship she essential ruined like it’s the apocalypse. All the while, we’re supposed to emphasize with Charlotte, admire Samantha and Miranda, and grieve with Carrie.
From the two hundred commercials about cell phones and a reality show about oil mining in Texas called “Black Gold” (seriously.) before the movie to the three hundredth mention of Louis Vuitton during the movie, the consumerism was disgraceful and distasteful and general shallowness of these woman made this woman sad she is a woman.
But, some endearing qualities of SATC are still prevalent on the big screen. Like the series, SATC The Movie exhibits the importance of female friendship; for these women and for all women. In a world where women are pitted against each other in the workforce, politics, movies, reality TV, and reality reality, it is refreshing to see such a staunch display of female friendships. While these women are largely selfish, there is one thing they love more than Vuitton and Blahnik: each other.
A film reviewer for The New York Times asked the charming Sarah Jessica Parker’s advice for all wannabe Carries. SJP responded, “stop into the library on the way to the store,” stating that a woman might find something more worthwhile in the library than in a store. I wish Parker would have brought a bit more of her smarts to Carrie Bradshaw. While Carrie and the gals are fun, they don’t encapsulate all that women are and should strive to be. Carrie Bradshaw knows that women are smarter than that and we all wait for the world to realize it too.
And yes, I went out for cocktails afterward. But I wish I would have gone before the film.

Just Another Reason the Middle of This Country Should Be Eradicated

What an embarrassment/injustice/indignity to flyover-staters, men, women, Americans, and humanity in general.

And, on a related note, we all know that merchandise from a superstore can cleanse our culture of its dirty sex fixation and prevent crime!

Bet they'll be big sellers in Nebraska.

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

People with no sense of humor are great!

Do you ever have a conversation with a person and get the feeling that they are offended by your every utterance? Then, by the time you try to figure out why, they think you are a complete douche; they are unable to comprehend how you can be so disagreeable and borderline mean. In turn, you become puzzled as to why this person is taking you so seriously. Finally it makes sense when you come to the realization that this person you have been conversing with clearly does not pick up on sarcasm.

This has happened to me more than I care to think about, and let me tell you it is one of the single most frustrating occurrences. Essentially, every sentence ends up being followed with the "just kidding," disclaimer, which just gets annoying (for me and I can only imagine the person I am talking to), but at the same time is very hard to stop.

I am not quite sure when I mastered my sense of sarcasm or when it became such an integral part of my day to day interactions. I have always wondered whether it is something you are born with or whether it is something you pick up in a social setting. Well, for anyone else who can relate to this dilemma, all your questions can now be answered (not really but there was an interesting article on the science of sarcasm).

The article does give a little insight into why the above frustration occurs. Or, maybe people really are just dumb.

Monday, June 2, 2008

pork and beans

weezer will forever be great.