The Perfect Derby Storm

Saturday night, me, Sandra D. Molisher, Boom Boom Martini, Racy Tracy and Sgt. Chesty went to the perfect derby storm. After practice we piled into the Diva Mobile (my minivan) and drove to the Fast Forward Skate Center to bear witness to the first 2007 WFTDA inter league bout. The Texas Roller Girls’ team Hot Rod Honyes vs. Mad Rollin’ Dolls own Dairy Land Dolls for three 20 minute periods of fast and furious bouting complete with a possible broken collar bone (Hope you’re feeling better soon Rebellika #19) an 11 point jam, one kicked helmet, and a shout out to the Stateline Divas during the second break. It was surreal watching legends of roller derby scramble for position just a few feet in front of us. After the Dairy Land Dolls took the win 100 to 90 and we helped clean up chairs, we talked with the Hot Rod Honey’s Captain; Cat Tastrophe who I must say is as magnificent up close as she was on the track and located Phil the Roller Derby Man who gave us all a "Derby is a Sport" pin. (Thanks Madam Furie & Piney Woods Roller Derby)

Next, we high tailed it over to the High Noon Saloon for a superb after bout celebration. Uncle Leon and the Alibis knocked our socks off with a glorious set of songs including “Beer Train” and “Good Time Woman”. We twisted, swung, two stepped, polka-ed and some of us even did a jig. The roller women danced with each other and the men grabbed up who was left and the crowd became a whirling, bouncing, sweaty horde of happy, while Uncle Leon and his Alibis whipped us up an earful of goodness. They finally finished out with “Roller Derby Saved My Soul” while the roller women danced so hard we almost fell over each other. They came back for an encore in front of a still packed house, with a fast paced two step rendition of Sir Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back”. We weren’t sure what happened after that because we said our goodbyes and made our way back to the van, we had a hot date with a Taco joint and I-90.


















Sandra D. Molisher & Phil
(more pics to follow)

Rated R

What is currently up on my blog is rated



This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words: dead (1x)

Then I put in the WHOLE month of June and by quoting my three year old my blog rating changed to:

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
sh*t (8x)
sh*tty (6x)
dead (1x)

Josh

So my nephew is still in Iraq. I talk to him via myspace every couple of weeks and he usually sounds bored out of his mind. I try to write him big long letters that talk about what’s going on here. I need to send him a care package, anyone have any ideas?

Demand More!

We went to the water park today with some friends and had a blast. Ella is napping hard right now and later she’ll be playing with her best buddy while Dan plays poker and I roller skate, so I guess you could say that’s a pretty good Friday night for everyone at the Bombadee household.

I was looking for something scandalous to blog about today, something I could give a good rant to and so I perused the front page of my e-mail browser Yahoo/Verizon to find stories about dieting, firefighters, the space shuttle and the oh-so important "5 mistakes people make while taking pictures", and of course "Hollywood declares the best picture ever", and how could I ever live without knowing "Prince William turns 25 and inherits more money today". So I switched over to BBC and clicked on the US part of the map and found a better story in what our media is NOT reporting today. Today’s BBC top story about America is this:

"CIA to reveal decades of misdeeds The US Central Intelligence Agency is to declassify hundreds of documents detailing some of the agency's worst illegal abuses from the 1950s to 1970s."

Now, I am too disappointed in my fellow Americans to rant I just feel deflated. Why don’t I blame the press? They report what we ask for.

The Chapter you Missed

Two nights in a row I’ve slept with a ticking time bomb, a three year old in underwear. It’s been fine actually. She’s almost got this potty thing down pat. Why haven’t I blogged about it? While parenting a three year old is full of challenges I would hate for her to need therapy because her classmates read all about the time her mother had to throw the bathroom rug away. I’d much rather she needed therapy for all the undue stress caused by giving her old toys to charity or petting homeless puppies at the shelter. So while you’ve all missed out on the potty follies, believe me its better that way.

Lilacs

Happy Birthday to my Dearest Husband! I hope you had a nice day yesterday and please enjoy planting the 'tree' your daughter insisted we buy for you as well as the cannolis I went to the next town to get for you. I love you.

Our Army

LAWRENCE - The potential deportation of the wife of a soldier missing in Iraq has put the spotlight on two of the nation's most volatile issues - illegal immigration and the war in Iraq.

WASHINGTON — An armed security guard fired at least 10 shots at another guard during an argument outside a busy entrance to Walter Reed Army Medical Center early Wednesday, police said.

WASHINGTON — The Army is considering whether it will have to extend the combat tours of troops in Iraq if President Bush opts to maintain the recent buildup of forces through spring 2008

Washington, June 19 (RHC).- The former U.S. Army General who led the Pentagon's first investigation into the abuses at Abu Ghraib has revealed that he was forced to retire because his report was too critical of the U.S. military.

air show 07

Close Call

So it was just the power supply and the surgery was a minor one. No scar even. Dan is ready to go get an external hard drive for me. No I still haven’t backed up all the pics – I know that’s crazy. One good lighting strike and I’d have to scavenge from all your computers and the blog. So that was a close call but nothing like Chrissy's close call.

So what’s new for Tuesday here at the garden? Nothing. I think I might go do a little grocery shopping. Woo hoo! Exciting stuff round here. Oh and Jo, if my computer dies I inherit Dan’s and he gets the new one. After all what would I do with the latest and greatest fastest gaming processor on the market? I’d blog with it and store my photos and what a waste that would be.

yikes

Eeek, My computer coded this morning. We were doing a massive overhaul of the office so that we could have the air conditioned guest bedroom back and I had to unplug the printer and then it wouldn't turn on anymore. My computer is under the knife right now and the top surgeon in the greater Bombadee area thinks it's just a power supply and luckily he had a doner match. He keeps old dead computers on slabs in the morgue downstairs next to the furnace for just this type of thing. I'm am pacing and praying right now.

Happy Father's Day!

Support Your Local Roller Woman

YAY! Derby Shirts! Woohoo – go buy some! at www.StatelineDivas.com We need to pay our rent at the practice facility! They’re $15.00 (plus shipping) or if you see me on a regular basis I will bring it to you and you can skip the shipping (Mom).

Innocence

Ella is into rhyming things and she often walks around singing nonsensical words to herself and when I say singing, I mean yelling them in different random notes as loud as she can. It’s often pretty cute to see her run through the kitchen wailing

“Mamma! Bamma, comma, mom, som, wom, wommy, mommy, blommy, pommy, mommmmmmeeeee!”

Last Tuesday Dan and Ella and I went to see a concert in the park in the city and decided to stop at the local upscale grocery store and get dinner on the way. When I say upscale, I mean they often have wine tasting in isle seven and in the winter the ladies who shop there wear furs through the frozen organic veggies isle. We normally wouldn’t shop there because we don’t like spending seven dollars on butter and the valet gives me a cough of disapproval when he has to get into my Cheeto crumb filled Dodge and park it in between the Lexus’s.

We went in trying to locate $50.00 deli ham sandwiches and of course Ella took off running through the isles and giggling. Dan shot me a look that said ‘it’s your turn to chase her’. I was ready to show off my superior parenting skills by putting into action 'Operation Abandoned Child' in which Ella runs away with glee and I pretend I don’t even see her running and she gets to the end of the isle, gets scared and consequently runs back to my side wailing and begging to hang on to my hand the remainder of the trip. This time Ella had a different plan in mind, I was still getting the look from Dan when Ella started to run faster singing her rhyming game and this time she had taken the word “quit” and morphed it into a lovely little song that went

“Quit, quit, shit! Shit shit SHIT! Shitty shit oh shitty shitty shit!”

Dan looked at me and proclaimed loud enough for the patrons to hear “It’s your kid!” There was no mistaking what she was singing, little old ladies dressed in pink Polo’s and Khakis quietly pondering NY Strips or lamb chops whirled around to see my bright young toddler singing obscenities past the butcher counter. Dan and I were now walking at a pretty brisk pace trying to nab our daughter by the back of the dress when the worst happened, I got the giggles. Upon hearing my laugh Ella was totally encouraged and ran faster and sang louder, soon the whole store was hearing her croon

“Shhhhhit! Shitty shitty shitty shit shit shiiiiiiiiiiiiiitah!”

And I seriously couldn’t stop laughing. I doubled over with great big snorky guffaws and couldn’t give a proper chase. Dan finally caught up with her in the cheese isle and hoisted her up onto his shoulders. When I found my composure and caught up to them I said “Aren’t you glad we aren’t at our neighborhood grocery?” and Dan smiled big and nodded like crazy.

Disposable?

The verdict is in on my camera, $160.00 to get the junior mint out. Dan found the newer version of the same camera in the paper yesterday without the memory and the extra battery for $170.00. So instead of waiting eight weeks for the repair we spent the extra $10.00 and got the brand new one, plus $30.00 for the camera case. Now, I need to figure out what to do with the old one? I can’t exactly keep it for spare parts but it seems silly to just throw it away. It’ll sit in my desk with the other camera parts and old digitals both working and nonworking. I think this makes me a pack rat.

FIGHT! FIGHT!

Saturday night I almost got in a fight. No, it wasn’t when I saw derby girls from the old league and no, it wasn’t while I was hanging out at the biker party passing out flyers and promoting the new league and it wasn’t at the rock concert or even in the 45 minute long line for beer. It was at the hick bar we stopped at on the way home.

Sandy and I stopped in on the way home to have a little pizza and hear the band. I was drinking cokes (I was driving) and we were talking to a couple of guys Annsanity works with (Brad and Ty, I think.) when this chick starts yelling in a way that spittle is flying from her mouth and her head is swinging from one side to the other. I was a little worried she might have an aneurism of some kind so I tuned my ears towards her to hear her telling Brad “She better stop eyein’ me! I’ll show her a beat down! Who does she think she is?!” I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Stood up and walked over to the pizza and procured a slice of its greasy goodness. The woman yelled louder and started flapping her arms. She almost fell over she was so drunk and worked up. I munched my pizza and waited for more sparks to fly. Brad was getting the brunt of the drunken rant, I felt bad for him. He looked amused and kept shaking his head. Finally she sputtered out of words. Nothing happened and so she stumbled out. Brad came over and apologized to me. I said “for what?” and that was when he informed me his friend was talking about me. Apparently in the 20 minutes Sandy and I spent at this fine country establishment I had been sleeping with Brad. I almost fell off my chair. When we finished our pizza Sandy and I went out to the van, I was looking for my butt whoopin’ but I think my whoopin’ passed out in someone’s front yard while trying to stagger home.

Oh the horrors of a woman going out without her husband. That’ll learn me!

PS Who picks a fight with a roller girl while her team is with her?!

new digs again

Hello all, hope you like the new cleaned up look around here. If you miss something on my blogroll let me know. I had to transfer things over to the blogger way of doing it 'cause I haven't yet learned how to use blogroll and the new version yet. The list has been significantly shorted and is missing some people I loved to read, but some of those people hadn't updated in months so there you have it. I'm up again at 2:30 am for no apparent reason. How irksome, the rest of my family is snoring and I've got a busy weekend planned and here I sit wide awake. ARG.

Fantastic Plastic

Another reason for me to denounce Barbie and all her materialistic plastic life represents

http://www.bestlifeonline.com/cms/publish/travel-leisure/Our_oceans_are_turning_into_plastic_are_we.shtml

Yay for Milk

Maggie Gyllenhaal rocks!

Letting go

Mom's new house is almost built. It's on the same land she lives on now and the address will stay the same. Next Tuesday the bulldozers will arrive to take down the old house. We are going to watch them tear it down next Tuesday over glasses of Champagne or expensive coffees depending on how early it is. Mom started this project by doing an inventory of anything in the old house we'd like to keep or transfer over to the new house - woodwork or windows etc. and upon doing the giant walk through she decided there wasn't anything she needed to keep beyond the brand new door they recently bought (it's going on the pole barn). I wish I could just let go of my junk like that. She's moving just her favorite furniture, pots & pans, dishes and clothes and the rest is going to charity. I'm jealous. Would you start over with just your absolute favorites?

PB&J Networking

What a 3 year old's business card looks like:

Translation:

Have you ever thought of tweezing those?

So last Thursday I finally went and got new contacts. Upon putting them in my eyes, I discovered two mangy caterpillars had taken up residence on my forehead and were calling themselves my eyebrows. I asked my husband why he let me walk around like that and he replied “I never even noticed” I asked my friend Boom Boom and she said “Some people like ‘em bushy, besides how do you tell someone that?” It’s a good question, how do you tell someone their brows are out of control? I used to hang out with this lady that worked at a salon and sometimes she’d say things like “I’d give anything to get a hold of her brows and give ‘em a good yank.” Then I would immediately ask her if mine were even. She always said they were. Well, as you can imagine she hasn’t seen me in a while and even if she had who knows if she’s been telling other people that she’d like to give my forehead a good yanking.

I’ve been fixated on brows now for a few days and they’re kinda funny. Some people let them poke straight out and say ‘hi’ to you and some people take them off all together and then draw them back on. When we were kids, my cousin’s Grandma used to shave hers off and draw them back on in purple or red depending on her mood and outfit. She was old and sometimes they’d be too high and she’d look surprised all day and sometimes they’d be off slightly and then she’d just look like she was almost winking. They always had an exaggerated arc like a clown and the color never helped deter that image. It made me afraid to over tweeze. So I do like to keep mine a little bushy just so I don’t have to draw them back on but please, someone tell me if I start to resemble the wolf lady of Browsville, my contacts could be getting cruddy.

It's Sometimes Crowded Around Here

She’s all grown up now, she’ll plainly show you that she’s applied her own band-aids to her own knees and she can open the frigerator and forage for cheese and grapes on her own, she can even start her own movie in the DVD player and let the dog out to pee. She’ll tell you all about the smart parts she has, she knows lots of things including her phone number and how to count all the way up to forty-twenty which comes right after forty-seventeen and forty-nineteen. (You’d think forty -eighteen would be in there somewhere but that just proves how much you don’t know.) Perhaps the best data she retains is the endless list of imaginary people and the exotic names they go by. Just the other day we had Foofala-Rose-Pretty over for jelly sandwiches. I always thought I was pretty good at putting names with faces but its extra difficult when the face is imaginary. It’s such a relief we have Ella to remind us who is here and what their names are, otherwise we’d have imaginary strangers hanging out in out bath tub all the live long day.

We survived the weekend

It's just a list ('cause I'm tired)

Skating, the UFC championship, salsa dancing, tacos, punching the punching machine game, snarky gossip, new friends, a photo shoot, scrapped knees, cupcakes, grandparents, cousins and relatives from far and wide, sunburns, cream puffs, flying kites, playing croquet, sand boxes, a parade, pizza, motorcycles, cleaning house, bonked heads, the curly slide, the beach, beer, swings, and steaks.

Gravity is fun

Tonight is our first night at the new practice facility. I am so excited to be able to suit up and show the new roller-women some falls. It’s really quite fun to skate as fast as you can and then take a dive. I’m like an albatross doing a crash landing, skidding, rolling, spinning, dancing with gravity across the floor in a semi controlled collision with earth. When you’re doing it right it looks dramatic but doesn’t hurt (much). Falling is an important thing to learn is roller derby. The fact is everyone takes hits and everyone falls down and everyone must do it safely and be able to get back up without putting hands on the floor (in three seconds). I’ve rolled over fingers before and it grosses me out every time. It feels like when your car goes over train tracks and then I get a gross feeling in the bottom of my stomach thinking about it. BLEAH! Falling is the second thing we teach roller-women, the first being how to stay up.

Next to finger painting with the kiddo it’s the best playing I do.

Drama

Dang! Rosie and Elzabeth have it out on TV. I thought soemone was gonna get their eyes scratched out!

Rosie and Hasselcrack Fight!
Uploaded by TheDlisted

The Robbery

The following story is true, it's from when I was about 16 and working part time at the arcade in this Mall out in the suburbs. It was a real turning point in my life. I'm thinking of it today because they are bringing the wrecking ball to that same mall this year. (Mom, you may wan to skip this one)

I am going to die. The robber knocked me down and now I will feel a bullet rip into me and then I am going to bleed to death in the back room on the floor of this crap ass shop making minimum wage. I feel no bullet; I feel nothing but my feet out from under me and the hard floor against my back. I keep my eyes closed in hopes that he just takes the money and leaves or perhaps I’ll wake up from this dream. I feel him climb on top of me and put his giant hands around my neck. He starts to squeeze and my eyes shoot open, this is no longer a game of cops and robbers I am participating in, it is a struggle for my life.

I see him now for the first time very clearly, he is 6’2” about 190lbs, he has strawberry blond hair ladened with dirt and grease. His chin is almost non-existent; it slopes into his neck at an angle that brings the word “goony” to mind. I am searching for a weakness, a bruise and cut, a limp arm anything I can use against him and I see none. He has dirt rings under his chin as a child who hasn’t bathed in a week would have. He has a far away look in his eyes; it’s what perhaps scares me the most and finally causes me to react. I grab his hands and pull at his fingers tightening around my neck. He says in a slow soothing tone “Shhhh, shhhh, relax.” Screw that! I will not relax!

The adrenaline kicks in and I’m not sure how it happens but I have managed to completely change places with this goon. I am now on top of his chest with my knees, our hands around each other’s necks and his wild eyes are looking around for the gun he dropped. This is not working, my hands are too small, and I don’t have the strength to choke a full grown man. I remember my father’s words and lash out at his eyes and he yells “ouch!” it almost seems comical. We roll around like cats reaching, scratching, howling, at some point I get a clear shot at his groin and I take it, it seems to only fuel the wild look in his eyes. I believe that I am fighting with insanity embodied, and it won’t end until one of us is dead.

Every muscle is aching and we are both just sitting on the floor panting now, there is blood and sweat and urine everywhere and an odd smell fills the air around me. I think this is what panic, adrenaline and insanity smells like. It’s sweet and metallic and oddly calming and caused me to hesitate long enough that he’s remembered the gun. He raises it to my face inches away and squeezes the trigger, nothing. The trigger doesn’t move. He looks surprised and stunned and I use that moment to bat the gun out of his hands with my tightened palm. Now we are rolling around on the floor again and he is trying to push my face into the toilet. I will not drown, I will not die, I refuse.

We are exhausted again, I am bleeding a lot now and he is sitting next to me panting. I look straight at him and say “Just stop it. I am going to wash up now and you are going to get the money and leave.” He backs off I shut the bathroom door and splash cold water on my face and look closely at my cuts. I consider locking the bathroom door and staying there. It’s a flimsy door and he has a host of tools and a gun at his disposal as well as his weight, I’m sure it’s not a good defense and I come out of the bathroom composed. He greets me by trying to push a knife into my ribs, it glances off without piercing my thick cotton sweater and again he looks stunned and surprised. I am tired of this fight and I say to him “Just knock it off!” He recoils at my scolding, my confidence wins. I continue “If I don’t close the front of the shop soon, security is going to wonder why and come back here to see what’s going on.” Where is security anyway, it’s clearly quarter after ten and the shop front is obviously not closed, why haven’t they noticed and where are they?

He finds his gun again and my line of cajoling is not working, think quickly. “Do you hear me? You are going to get caught! Worse yet, my Dad will catch you. He is waiting out front to pick me up and if I don’t get out there, he’s going to come in looking for me. Let me tell you guy, he’s one big biker dude and when he sees what you did to me he’s going to kill you with his bare hands and don’t think he can’t, he’s the one that taught me to fight. You've got to go!” I start shoving money into the goon's stocking hat and for the first time he looks a little panicked. I keep repeating “You gotta go! And you gotta go fast!” He leaves and I am safe.

At the hospital the nurses gather around with the police to hear the whole story. The police man writes furiously asking me to repeat certain details. Among gasps and wide eyes the consensus is that I’m a lucky girl to survive and fend off an attempted stabbing, strangling and drowning and who knows how his gun jammed at just the right moment. They agree privately I must have an angel who watches over me. I believe in angels sometimes but I believe in coincidences all the time.

In the following weeks my cuts and bruises heal but something else has changed. I am increasingly impatient with my friends’ incessant whining about this boy or that hair-do and whenever there’s a squabble that involves what ‘he said’ and ‘she said’ I have no tolerance for the frivolity. I often fight the urge to smack my friends in the back of the head and remind them of the value of their lives. I am viewing the world through fresh eyes, though also guarded ones as they haven’t caught my assailant… yet.

After weeks of me being scared to stand in front of windows and the local news paper publishing my home address, the police got him. There was no trial, he confessed. I always wanted to ask him why he did it.

Old Friend

I dropped my camera off yesterday and am awaiting quote for repairs. The nice man at the camera shop was pleased to tell me they would have to probably replace the entire lens seeing as the whole mechanism is minty fresh. They have to send it off to the manufacturer so it’ll take at least 10 days before they tell me I’ll have to decide between college for Ella and a new lens. I was having phantom shutter pains in my right finger while imagining the wonderful shot I would miss during Ella’s ballet graduation yesterday so I found my old Finepix. Even though it’s a little slow good ol’ Finepix has comforted my through this difficult period, we had a lovely afternoon yesterday, it’s just like old times.

Stateline Roller Derby Divas

Thanks for all the support during the last month. I was amazed by all the comments, discussions, questions, well wishes and offers to help. I will take most of you up on those offers soon because I am please to announce, I and the women who left the old roller derby league started a new one. We completed month’s worth of paperwork and legal documents (in weeks), wrote bylaws, opened a bank account, found a few sponsors, designed a websites, made posters, and banners, found a practice space with a locker-room and recruited new skaters. We have enough women for one full team so far and are still looking for more motivated women who want to play. I am proud of us. I can hardly wait to get back on the track. We still have to get equipment for the new women, teach everyone what they’re doing and settle on a logo so we can get shirts made (that’s where you all come in, I’ll need you to buy some of those shirts, I promise they’ll be affordable.) Oh and we need to learn the new rules, they went from 9 pages to 20 and it’s hard for me to learn them until we are skating them. Was it all worth it? Hell yes! Even amidst all that work, my own stress level has fallen from “I’m ready to poke pencils in my ears!” to “Hey, who brought watermelon for after practice?” Skating is fun again. Karyn you were right.

Check out some of our hard work here.

















Roller Derby Divas
Skater Run, Owned by None

Minty Pics

I’d like to blame my three year old for getting a junior mint stuck in the lens of my camera but I have to admit the Junior Mints would’ve been in my purse had she been with us or not. My beloved thin tiny camera that flips out of my pocket and goes from zero to sixty in less than the time it takes a person to get their butt back into their pants is gummed up beyond my ability to clean. I’d take a picture, but there’s Junior mint stuck in my camera. Sigh.

valuable web time

from Pentagon limits web for troops

"...No more using the military's computer system to socialise and trade videos on MySpace, YouTube and nine other websites, the Pentagon says...

...At the same time, service members have used the websites to chronicle their time in battle, posting videos and writing journals that provide powerful personal glimpses into their days at war..."

Again I urge you to go read The Calm Before the Sand

Go Dog Go

Every kid memorizes a book when they're about three years old. Mine was "The Cat in the Hat" and Dan’s was "Green Eggs and Ham", so how appropriate that I now present to you Ella ‘reading’ "Go Dog Go" by P.D. Eastman. (It's about 10 minutes long)

#00

Discovery of the zero marks the decisive stage in a process of development, science, and technology. The zero freed human intelligence from the counting board that held it prisoner for thousands of years, eliminating all ambuguity in the written expression of numbers, revolutionized the art of reckoning, and made it accessible to everyone.

The Magnolia Festival

We went with some friends to the Magnolia Festival last night. The food was wonderful. Der Rathskeller offered brats, pork chop sandwiches and pretezels, Altimores had pizza, bruschetta and chocolate cannolis (slurp, I ate three), and JT's Bourbon Street did bar-b-que ribs, dirty rice and cornbread and pulled pork sandwiches, then of course there was Miller and Barefoot wine. They had a few bands and we ran into old friends and introduced them to new friends. We had so much fun I ended up in a hoola-hooping contest. Next to roller skating hoola-hooping is one of my favorite things to do. I came in second.

It's Genetic

My mother is building a new house; this involves packing up the old house and getting things ready to go to the new house. In my mother’s house is a buffet that has for as far back as I can remember contained two drawers so full of family photographs that we could hardly wrap our heads around them. Once in a while we’d open a drawer and wallow in the photos picking up a random one here of us three kids acting goofy with shorts on our heads while camping in Colorado and the next my brother at prom. With no rhyme or reason the photos randomly strewn about in the drawer await the day someone will sort them into neat little books marked Jenny, Andy and Joe. Well, the buffet is coming to my house and the photos preceded it. I committed to sorting and copying all the important photos for each family member. My Mother and I sat down last week and did a preliminary sort. We looked through photos for a whole day, tossing four garbage bags full of tax returns from the 80s, hair clippings from who knows who and photos taken of the driveway whilst starting the roll of film or blurry shoes or pictures of ourselves with one eye open. Then we made boxes of photos for my brothers. Joe gets all the ones of him and his friends skateboarding and miscellaneous blond girls and the skate ramp he built in Mom’s back yard that he must’ve photographed a hundred different ways. Andy gets the shots of summer camp and college and several group photos full of smiling faces only he’d recognize. My box contains photos with lots of big hair and enough eyeliner to outfit a whole season of Top Model. Also placed in each box are years of report cards. I pulled one out from preschool (I had to be four) and discovered why Ella may be having such a hard time learning to skip in ballet class.

SMALL AND LOUD AND BRAVE

10:00 am update. She’s demanding watermelon and dressed as Ariel. I think whatever it was has run its course. Sigh. It’s a beautiful day and it’ll be nice and warm. Lots to look forward to today, we’re gonna buy a Barbie and see Grandma and play outside and not worry about dehydration or the phone ringing anymore. I have the funniest video of her reading Go Dog Go I must upload and share, but that takes time in front of the computer which I am not giving today. so instead I give you a short conversation had in line at the grocery:

M: Are you pretty?

E: No, I don’t even have a long dress on.

M: Are you smart?

E: Nope, but when I’m a bigger girl I’ll be smart.

M: Oh, are you just small right now?

E: Yes, I am small

M: But are you brave?

E: Yes! I’m really brave

M: Brave is good. Are you loud?

E (Shouting now): YES! I’M SMALL AND LOUD AND BRAVE RIGHT NOW!

M: Well, those are pretty good things to be darling.

E: I told you I’m not pretty today, I’m small and loud and brave.
.
.

One Birthday & One Barfday

Today, I stood on the back porch wondering when the leaves on the tree behind our house grew thick and lush and how I missed it. Amidst the politics, the last minute errands of the art show, the poison gas cloud and the friends’ calls who wanted to talk about all the controversy during the last few weeks was hidden my birthday. I don’t remember exactly what we did that day. There was no Boston creamy-cake or hats like Ella wished for me, but she did sing and that was wonderful. I believe Dan had a public hearing that night and I asked Grandma to watch Ella for a few hours so I could sit in on it (for fun – yeah that’s right – for fun). I received some wonderful well wishes and notes from friends and family and we went out for gourmet burgers that Friday. Dan and Ella gave me a beautiful new book bag filled with lots of trashy summer paperbacks and I may finish the first tonight as I sit up with Ella. She has barfed no less than 6 times today and she’s having a difficult time keeping water down. Its midnight and I’ve been in the bathroom every two hours with her since 10 am this morning holding her hair back from her face and then the cleaning up and re-hydrating her. I figure she’s absorbing enough water in between pukes to keep her going but I’m calling the Doctor in the morning. Dr. B. will nod and agree it’s the flu and it needs to run its course. I will have chapped hands from washing them so often and Ella will never eat Pink Princess Cereal again.

Get your Boots on

The developer is gone and people have stopped calling our house to voice their opinion, our town is not signing a pre-annexation with a development 26 miles away and hopefully the land it is located on has officials that will see its merits. I still think it could save their schools especially in light of their failed referenda. I hope those parents who opposed the subdivision see what the county actually has planned there instead are 13 story high rises and high density industrial. They should call their board members in opposition to that too. Ok, if you’re just walking in on this and I’m talking in cryptic bits, I’m sorry. I guess I just want to say I am just thankful that the phone is quiet today. In the last week, I’ve taken messages from developers, community leaders, Senators, State Representatives, Press from three counties and concerned citizens from everywhere. I wish all these people still cared about tiny town after the smoke clears.

We need a sewer plant to the tune of 6 million dollars. We take in about $580,000.00 a year in revenue for the village. My water/sewer bill is $80.00 a month. There are just three of us and one of us is a mini person. The rates had to go up in January and they’ll go up again in July because the plant has to get built. Our good Senators Dick Durbin and Barack Obama managed to secure a small grant for the new plant but we still have to find the funds for the rest of it. The village’s elected officials have explored every avenue for revenue (including a very recent and controversial pre-annexation agreement, that didn’t go anywhere). What are they planning now? They have a couple of developments they are still trying to work the details out on and they are continuing to search every avenue.

How did we get here? Over the past 30 years most of our elected officials and residents put their heads in the sand and pretended there was no problem. This didn’t seem to work because people in tiny town continued to flush. When I first moved here we didn’t even have water meters – everyone’s bill was a flat rate $15.00. So there wasn’t much action on the situation until about 8 years ago. The current facility is rusting out. Its 40 years old and just past its lifetime. There may come a day when the EPA shuts it down and the county has to truck our waste to their facility and we will pay who knows what a month. The plant shouldv'e been replaced in 1987. What’s my point? I guess my point is this, if you continue to pretend there isn’t a problem the crap will continue to pile up until it’s a crisis.

Fascists

Early Warning Signs of
FASCISM

Powerful and continuing group identity

Disdain for basic rights

Identifying enemies as a unifying cause

Corporate power protected

Obsession with security

Fraudulent elections

Labor power suppressed

Disdain for intellectuals and the arts

Obsession with crime and punishment

Rampant cronyism and corruption

Rampant sexism

Controlled mass media

Supremacy of the military

Religion and government intertwined

Fiasco

So two Sundays ago my old roller derby league had the giant meeting I’d been asking for. I wasn’t there. I’d been kicked out the week before. I heard first hand what happened. The Corporate Board Members passed two copies of the bylaws around to 35 women and told them they couldn’t have a copy and didn’t need a copy. In the face of questioning from the skaters, the Corporate Board changed the reasons for removing me from the league. I still haven’t been notified of these new reasons. A few skaters pointed out that the league is not operating within the parameters of the law and a handful of very respectable women quit and walked out at the end of the meeting.

There is so much more to say but I really want to just stick to unbiased facts. So there you have it draw your own conclusions.

I still have no way to know what is being said about me or what is being blamed on me now that I am gone and can’t defend myself. I’ve heard through the grapevine everything from tearing down the website in anger, to purposefully messing up print material to get them in trouble with the state (shakes head). I could address each accusation individually but who knows who actually said what and it’s easier to just simply say it’s not true. Besides, I really just don’t want any part of that mess anymore.

Perhaps someday I'll post it all, but not today.

Poison Gas Cloud

Poison Gas Cloud

Punky Mom calls at 8:30 and says “What’s going on in the neighboring town? I left my cell phone in my car down there and Mr. Punky went to get it and they turned him around and said the town is closed, something about a poison gas explosion.” “I don’t know let me ask Mr. Bombadee and I’ll call you back.” Moments later Dan is telling me “Aw, it’s probably just an ammonia leak, we’re fine.” and we go up to bed. Let me remind you I am not from a farm town so ‘just an ammonia leak’ still sounds kinda dangerous to me, but Dan seems totally unfazed. We flip on the TV in our bedroom and see a warning flashing across the top of the screen, IF YOU LIVE WITHIN ONE MILE OF THE SEWARD AG PLANT YOU ARE ADVISED TO GO TO A SAFER PLACE… I poke Dan again and say, I think this is kinda serious. Dan says, “Nah, the police would’ve called by now.” Then the phone rang.

Dan pulled on whatever was beside the bed on the floor and walked out the door in a crumpled pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He went to the high school where they were bringing evacuees to make sure there were enough blankets and water and whatever else they may need. There was an anhydrous ammonia leak at the ag plant in the neighboring town. They use anhydrous ammonia for a fertilizer on the farms surrounding our towns. I sat in bed watching Ella sleep holding both my cell phone and the house phone waiting patiently for my throat to start burning. I watched the news of the evacuations unfold. The gas cloud was floating south east with the wind, away from our town out into the night. Officials did have to go drive through the south end of town with Bullhorns and knock on doors to get people to a safer place they didn’t need us to leave. Dan called me every 15 minutes asking for another phone number, first the pastor of a local church, they needed more blankets and cots, then the number to the local grocery so they could get some munchies and bottled water. I sat in bed with Ella, two phones and the phone book watching the news.

At 10:30 the news was over and so was the coverage. I couldn’t believe it, poison gas roaming the country side in the night and Jay Leno was cracking jokes. I was up until 1:30 waiting for Dan and he finally made it home at 2:45 exhausted and breathing just fine. The next day we watched it all unfold again on AP News where Dan is standing in the background in crumpled shorts, bed head and his work jacket.

Small northern Illinois town evacuated following ammonia leak Chicago Sun Times

Up next part II to the Roller Derby Saga

Musical Misogyny

I read Twisty Faster over at I Blame the Patriarchy religiously and through her I recently discovered Sinister Girl who I immediately had to add to the blog rolls and now read daily too. About a month back Ms. Jared at Sinister girl decided to put together a feminist music exchange and asked who would like to be involved. I did, and so I sent in the promise to snail mail CDs to every other woman who wanted to participate, in exchange for CDs from them. The assignment was feminist music, defined as music by women or music for women. I say that leaves the interpretation wide open, I figured it'd be easy. The month went by and I made a mental list of songs I knew I wanted to include. Last week when I sat down to sort for those songs I can to the realization I really only had 3 songs in mind and after listening to the lyrics they really weren’t what I would consider feminist music, they were just beautifully sung by women. It’s ok that still fit the assignment, but I had to find a dozen or so more. I combed through my music collection in disbelief, no women. I could go back to my college collection of CDs in the basement and find some Alanis Morissette, but Sinister girl published a list of what was handed out last year and most of my college feminist music collection was there, I really didn’t have much to add. Tracy Chapman, Indigo girls, and Sarah McLachlan were done already and besides I didn’t even have any of that in the collection of songs I’ve listened to over the last three years. What women did I have that were recent? - Lori Berkner (which I did include on the CD) and Ella Fitzgerald (not exactly cutting edge new). I did finally dig out 15 songs from various artists I’ve downloaded in the last few years but it’s a paltry few and I am ashamed. So, with great anticipation I await the CDs from my fellow bloggers waiting to understand what feminist music is and also waiting to discover some new artist. By this time next year I swear this assignment won’t be so difficult for me.

Songs I sent:
Juliette by the Januaries
Alright by Lucy Nation
Catch the Moon by Lisa Loeb & Elizabeth Mitchell
Free Hot Chocolate by Snoozie & the Miltonics
Who’d Stop the Rain by Dressy Bessy
Half Acre by Hem
Sarafin by Celina Pereira & Ivo Pires Ban
I Really Love to Dance by Laurie Berkner
Hyperactive by The Donnas
Us by Regina Spektor*
4 Big Speakers by Whale
Portia by Throwing Muses
Edge of the Ocean by Iby
Paris in the Rain by Telephone
Speak Easy by Maria Taylor

*I did buy this Regina Spektor CD but it was for Dan not myself. (sheepish grin)

Too many

It's been a crazy little couple of weeks for everyone and I have so many things to blog about I'm overwhelmed so I'll give you a choice, what would you like to hear about first?

A. The giant poison cloud that floated over our town
B. The Roller Derby "conspiracyzing"
C. The developer that caused 40 people to call my house
D. Ella learns to read... kinda
E. The seeds we planted that will grow into a business
F. How I learned I was a sexist when it comes to music and how I'm changing
G. My birthday

Spring

I just love the spring. Shedding cold hard visages of winter and planting a seed is a fine end to a long season of torment. It's the earth's reminder that everything can start fresh and anew and be beautiful and good again.

Just Dandy

The First Dandelion

Simple and fresh and fair from winter's close emerging,
As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been,

Forth from its sunny nook of shelter'd grass--innocent, golden, calm as the dawn,
The spring's first dandelion shows its trustful face.

Source: "Leaves of Grass," by Walt Whitman

SOLD!

Last night was the Art Gala for the library and today I can finally exhale. This last week was spent on the phone with the caterer and gathering art, getting things matted and worrying about a bazillion details, and even finishing the piece I donated. It was all worth it; last night’s party was wonderful. Everything fell into place and even the cellist had a nice time. I donated an acrylic painting of down town called “Our Town” and then made my mom promise to bid on it, but I didn’t have anything to worry about it actually went for quite a bit. Shortly after the bidding was over I received two commissions for various parts of town. Dan also bought me a beautiful handmade sterling silver and onyx necklace and matching earrings. While I was pretending to be Vanna White parading around with the item in hand through the crowd and amongst the tables I couldn’t see who was bidding, when they said “sold to Dan” I was delighted and surprised. Thank you sweetie.

Doing the right thing is hardly ever easy

I’ve been removed from the Rockford Rage Roller Derby League. If you planned on going to see me skate or to support my team, I will not be there.

On April 11th 2007 three days before our last bout at the ISC I received an e-mail from a nice student film maker asking if she could meet with our team. She wanted to do a five minute documentary about the Demolition Dolls. I forwarded the e-mail to my captain and I called SR a corporate director to see what she thought. SR said it sounded fun and I called the student film maker back and told her where the next public practice was. She said she wanted to come and talk to the team.

I went to practice, I saw the film maker, some of my team mates overheard the conversation we were having and got excited about the idea of a documentary about us. She wanted an answer about filming soon so she could get a camera on loan form her school for the bout. I asked if we could get four skater board members together right there at practice and get an ‘ok’. The four came together and decided it would be ok as long as she didn’t get in the way or create confusion. The next morning I awoke to a message from the president of the league stating the filming would not happen because no one called her and she hadn’t seen any paperwork.

I have always operated under the understanding that four votes (of seven) from the skater board made something acceptable and so I asked the president of the league what gave her the power to just override four votes. I was told “Because I own the league and I am liable because my name is on the business license” I filed it away in my brain until the bout was over but not without telling the President of the League I thought that was terrible. I brought it up the next day at the end of the Sunday meeting after the bout. I waited until the meeting was over because I didn’t want to raise alarm or rumor about the not for profit status of the league. I stayed after that night for three hours asking questions of SR. There were other skaters present for parts of the conversation. I was told the President, Secretary and the Treasurer have their names on the business license and so they have final say on any and all corporate matters. The “Skater Board” positions are what the skaters actually vote for hold only influence but no real power. The skater board decisions can be overturned by the corporate directors at anytime.

This didn’t sit well with me. I’ve been paying dues thinking it gave me a voice - my vote. I went on to ask if the directors paid themselves and was told no. I asked if they could vote to pay themselves and was told yes, I asked what stops the three from splitting the money currently in the bank account three ways for compensation of their efforts in forming the league and dissolving it all tomorrow and the response was “You just have to trust us.” When I asked what happens to the position if someone wants to quit, moves or passes away. I was told that the director can sell those shares or even will them to a family member. To say I was alarmed is an understatement. My mouth was agape during this conversation and I commented several times “Really?” And “You have to TELL people this, we need to have a league meeting to explain this to people” I went home and couldn’t sleep. I called my captain the next morning and expressed my concerns; I talked to a few other skaters who had mentioned the same kinds of questions to me. We got together and decided we needed to fully understand how the vote and who is chosen for the corporate board works as well as who has the authority to spend the money of the league.

Tuesday I ran a fever and stayed home from practice, Wednesday wasn’t better I stayed home again, both days I talked to my captain and told her that I’d be at practice on Thursday. I called SR the Corporate Director on Wednesday to ask her for a copy of the bylaws. She didn’t call me back.

While I was home sick I learned, you cannot own a not for profit. You cannot sell shares and you cannot bestow them to a family member upon your death. Should you leave your position for any reason the voting members remaining on the board vote to fill the position. I also found that when setting up the corporate bylaws for a not for profit, the corporation must indicate the length of the term for each corporate director in the bylaws. It can be one year, five years, staggered, or even indefinite. Indefinite seemed unreasonable but fixable because two thirds of the voting body can change the bylaws by vote, making it possible to change the term of the directors from forever to limited. I needed to see the bylaws to clearly understand how it all worked. On Thursday at practice I asked for a copy of them was told by SR she would have to check with the other two corporate directors to see who might have a copy but they are public record. Then SR said this:

“You’re gonna be a little surprised though…”

I replied “Oh, why?”

SR informed me that the only members of the league listed as “members” when they filed with the state were the three also currently listed as corporate directors. I clarified by asking her if that meant they were the only three voting members of the Rockford Rage. She agreed that they were the only three voting members of the corporate board; (meaning they can just keep electing each other.) She added we all have a vote when it comes time to vote for the skater board and they always pay careful attention to the skater board opinions. I asked if we would be added as voting members before the July elections and was told they had never planned on it because changing the names on the business license with the state all the time was hard and with skater turn over it would be really hard and besides who would really want all that liability. My heart sank and despite the fact that my husband and I were invited to attend a “skater appreciation dinner” paid for by the league, last month where a big speech was made and we were all told what a boon to the league we were and how “it all never could’ve all happened without us” I knew I was now at the mercy of the corporate board. I again encouraged SR to inform people in a league meeting what she had just told me and I added sooner was better than later.

On Friday, I e-mailed a request for the corporate bylaws to the three board members the President, the Secretary and the Treasurer. On Saturday April 21st 2007 I was removed from the league via a phone call with the three corporate board members on one end and me on the other, for the following reasons

Not meeting the May marketing deadline

Not updating the website timely manor

Not passing on business contacts to the corporate board

I can address each one of these and explain to you how the accusations have no merit, however, it really wouldn’t matter; the prosecutor, judges and jury are all the same people; the three corporate directors and the trial happened behind closed doors without me present. Besides, I don’t think it’s really my burden. In a democracy people are innocent first.

The thing is, we all worked so very hard putting time, money and boundless effort into the league thinking we were working for our fellow skaters all the time not knowing about the unchecked power of the three corporate board members. All the time listening to them tout “By the Skaters for the Skaters” What I had my eyes opened to this week broke my heart. I feel totally exploited and lied to. I feel misled about the original intent of how the league would run. I feel used and deceived. I’ve spent hours and hours a day working on marketing for the league. I’ve spent my own money on derby projects and my whole family and many friends have invested time, money and emotions in this league. I would like to add that I only agreed to take the marketing Director position after the corporate board fired the last person and begged me to salvage what was left behind. I had been doing the marketing for a total of two months.

I paid dues to be treated like this and was thrown away without due process.

This has astonished me and the more I thought about it the more I decided telling my story out in the open was a good thing, especially in light of the accusations of collusion surrounding my departure and the possible blame that may be laid at my feet should the league fall to pieces. Normally I don’t air my troubles to the internet (its true look back over two years of mostly happy posts) yet, today I am. It’s important for me to tell my friends and family what happened and why I no longer skate for the Rockford Rage Women’s Roller Derby.

The good news is I’m back to blogging. I have all kinds of time now. I just am not sure what to do with the non-refundable plane ticket to Roller Con/Las Vegas I bought for the middle of August.

First They Came by Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984)

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I remained silent; I was not a communist.
When they locked up the social democrats,
I remained silent; I was not a social democrat.
When they came for the trade unionists,
I did not speak out; I was not a trade unionist.
When they came for me,
there was no one left to speak out.

Puny Pete

Puny Pete was a bathtub pirate,
She sank toy ships all day,
She’d often stop right in the middle
And you could hear here say;
‘Yo ho ho and a bottle of milk
It’s a pirate’s life for me
Let’s make my mother walk the plank
and then we’ll go out to sea’

Cat Fight!

I've received these in my e-mail today. I can't report on the validity of any of this I just find it interesting that local politics has turned to You Tube again. I also find it flattering that someone thought of Bombadee's Garden when sending out the e-mails. Thanks for inviting me to the cat fight and now I will stand on the sidelines and chant... "Fight, fight, fight!" (We vote Tuesday).

It's also important to add I don't know much about either side and so I take no sides, in fact this isn't even our school district. I just find the whole process of the campaign interesting and would like to share it with you all. Forget the message and behold the direction local small campaigns are taking in the new millennium. "Fight, fight, fight!"


Date: Sat, 14 Apr 2007 15:14:43 -0400
From: catman8938@aol.com
Subject: New YouTube Video Attacks Saudargas

Message:
Vote Incumbents OUT!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F6pJtBWGPHc


response?:

Date: Sat, 14 Apr 2007 16:18:56 -0500
From: "Jim Powers" JHP8916@InsightBB.com
Subject: RE: New YouTube Video Attacks Saudargas

Message:
Does catman 8938 also wear a sheet and burn crosses? Sending anonymous emails with primitive, hateful movies does not make cowardice more attractive.
Jim Powers

***

One Two Three Four

I took Ella to see Happy Feet at the dollar theatre tonight. I challenge you all to take a three year old who loves to dance to this movie, feed her Raisinettes and then keep her in her seat. At one point the little penguin is doing this fantastic shuffle tap and yelling at all the others to join in, this fabulous samba drum music is playing and Ella is dancing in the aisle. As I lean over and plead with Ella to get back into her seat, the curmudgeony old coot of a penguin on screen denounces Mr. Happy Feet and pleads with him to stop this dancing nonsense. What did I do? I let Ella dance, tap and hop in the aisle as long as she wanted. I give the movie four tap shuffles – go rent it.

home movies anyone?

I set up the slide projector and am going to turn the lights down and show you some slides from our weekend. This material will not be on the test but it's still important... hey wait... where are you going? It's only about 4 minutes long... hey...

Last Friday

I have a date Wednesday night with this hot young dude I met last Friday at prom. He had these plaid pants on and crazy round sunglasses, (I went home with him - shhhh don't tell my Mom). We're gonna go see the new Quentin Tarantino Film (It has guns explosions AND roller girls in it!). Here's some photos from Roller Derby Prom (ala 1987).

Sticks

What a wonderful weekend. We ditched all our technology for two days and went to Granma and Grandpa’s Cabin in central Wisconsin. On Saturday afternoon Ella said “I wish I could play some Nick Jr. on my computer right now” and I knew we had done the right thing. By Sunday afternoon she was happily toasting marshmallows with Grandpa and Great Grandpa. Pics to come.

Side Dish?

She often blurts out nonsense first thing in the morning and I often chalk it up to crazy dreaming on her part. This morning she told me

"You need a body guard so you don't become someones side dish."

I think she watched Sponge Bob before bed last night.

Modern Country?

I’ve secured 12 artists for the Art Gala at the end of this month including myself. I’m a little nervous about that. I haven’t put a piece in a show or up for public sale in about eight years. I’m not even sure what I want to do yet. Originally I thought a few little watercolor wildflowers would be nice, but I really want to do a large impressive oil painting. Of course oil paint doesn’t dry right away and that’s not always the best mix with a three year old in the house, which naturally brings me around to acrylics. Then there’s the whole subject and style conundrum. I think my safest bet would be a painting of downtown tinytown and at the least my husband will buy it for his own office. But I’ve spent the last year taking photos of Illinois farm landscapes. To others they may seem boring but to me it’s minimalism at its finest. Flat horizon line two or three colors graduated into each other, an occasional barn or tree interrupting the flow, it’s really quite modern looking even in tonality and I could really do a whole series of them. If I’m doing a whole series, maybe I should find a place to show them and for this April show do a nice little watercolor violet… The proceeds from the art auction all go to the Friends of the Library so I want to donate something that’ll sell well. What would you people bid on?



















Go ahead and click on the photo, it'll get really big

Who Are You?

It’s not uncommon for us to wake up to an imaginary guest in the house and only Ella knows who it is. Ella will play for hours with her friends Cinderella, Oobie, Baby Dinosaur and whomever else may have wandered in from the menagerie that day. I find it all a little uncomfortable, but I grew up with two little brothers and cousins galore. There were always kids squiggling around and getting into mischief with me. Dan grew up the youngest by 10 years and had lots of imaginary friends including, according to his mother, another family in Florida whom he would threaten to go live with if she didn’t treat him better. Dan thinks it’s all just fine. I keep talking about pretend and real with Ella but sometimes it's not even Ella I'm talking to anymore. She'll exclaim "I'm just Theresa right now Mom and I have on a crown and a stripey dress and I have a cow that follows me everywhere because he's my best friend." Maybe she’ll be a writer.

This morning:

Look mom I have a baby dinosaur. She’s very hungry

What do baby dinosaurs eat?

Spaghetti O’s but sometimes she likes oranges better than Spaghetti O’s.

Would you and your baby dinosaur like me to peel an orange for you?

That’d be fantastic, my baby dinosaur will wait on my shoulder for you to peel it.

Neck

We went to the grand opening of the remodeled Rockford Art Museum last night. The show that opened it all was HE & SHE. It was quite an interesting show and the artists were on hand to answer questions and sign books. Dan and I ran into a new friend of mine and spent the bulk of the evening discussing the art and hunting down the ladies that were circulating the spectacular hors d'oeuvres. If you are ever wondering what to wear to one of these functions be assured if you wear the quintessential fancy necklace you are allowed to wear really whatever you like as long as it’s black. I wore my favorite giant glass piece, ice blue and silver with an Egyptian feel to it around my gullet. My friend wore a single sparkly flower on an invisible string. We saw giant wooden beads in graduated sizes and intricate metal and bead pieces weaved into a complex neck sculpture. I saw carved wooden dogs next to mud globs hanging from leather and giant smooth round red plastic orbs floating from one lady’s neck all the way to her waist I think I even saw painted mostaccioli noodles on yarn. Each woman's necklace screamed “I have an opinion!” The only woman I saw the entire evening who wasn’t wearing her statement around her craw was the artist (SHE).

Address

Conversation between Ella and Grandma D

What’s you whole name?

Ella LastName

And what’s your Mommy’s name?

Jenny LastName

And what’s your Daddy’s name?

Dan LastName

And where do you live?

TinyTown

Do you know your address?

My dress is red

Paris

The problem lies within the popularly misconstrued interpretations of the third wave of feminism seeming to revolve around the idea that women can be powerful AND sexy. “Taking control of one’s sexuality” is a phrase often thrown out there by third wave feminists. It’s an odd choice of words to me because having control of one’s sexuality implies humans choose sexual preference and I don’t believe that is the case at all. I believe one’s sexuality is a genetic predisposition.

It seems the phrase is actually applied to the absurd idea that people choose to look good of their own volition. The idea is wholly ridiculous, we all choose to impress, it’s programmed into us to want companionship and we are all trying to attract companions we find appealing in various ways, be it sexy, funny, passionate, smart, and successful or a combination thereof and we find different values in different companions; friends, lovers, family members or pets. However, when one value becomes the most important assessment for an entire group of people we all suffer. And when a group embraces that value as their most important trait and strives to improve that trait above all we validate those who judge us by only that one trait.

I am not saying that sexual value should be something we disregard altogether. We all know that pretty people are fun to look at and when Paris Hilton says “Don’t hate me because I’m pretty”, she’s right. This may be her best trait we shouldn’t begrudge her for choosing the option to capitalize on her strong point. It’s what feminism believes in, making any choice a valuable option? However, when we as a group strive to value our bodies over our minds or our fashion over our charity we do our entire group a disservice by validating those that believe our looks are the most important traits of being a woman. Not only is tyranny the fault of the oppressors for not seeing the value in a people beyond one trait, but it is also the fault of all those who perpetrate the overvaluation of the trait exploited.

Let me add that feminism is not about telling little girls what they can and can’t play with or grow up to be, or making your daughter wear brown despite her love of pink sparkles, it’s about making a wide array of choices a valuable option in her and the world’s eyes. It is about teaching us all to see beyond what society has for so long dictated as feminine and just see women as humans with many valuable and different traits.

“Feminism is the radical notion that women are human beings.” --Cheris Kramerae