The Problem with "Dream Girls"

Today, I ran across an article that I hoped was an exposition on the many things that are more important that physical attractiveness when choosing a mate. And it was. Kind of.

I should have known I was going to be disappointed from the first two words in the title, "dream girl," but I pressed on and read the article, hoping upon hope that it wasn't going to be the heaping pile of the most insidious type of sexism that it was.

If you ignore the content of Dream Girl: The Difference Between A Pretty Face And A Beautiful Person, the subheadings of the article ring true: I absolutely agree that passion, kindness, and uniqueness - among many other traits - are more important than traditional physical attractiveness in a partner.  Unfortunately, the author takes what could have been a wonderful concept for an article and turns it on its head with his unrealistic expectations and clear consideration of women as the "other."

Overdue Like a Library Book

I am overdue. I am overdue for so many things I have in my head that I need to write, overdue for time spent with friends and loved ones, overdue for the unpleasant tasks that are building up on my to-do list. There is a build-up of pressure and of procrastination as a result of these things, both of which create a cycle within me of stress and overwhelm.

I know exactly how I should handle this stress in a positive and healthy manner: I should start getting things done, one small step at a time. I should make time for my meditation and yoga again (my poor, neglected yoga practice is felt in the recently renewed aches I feel in bone and muscle throughout an unreasonably tired body). I should read. I should write, even if all I'm writing is a dairy entry to be shared with no one but myself.

Not a Monster / Thoughts on Fear

Fear can really eat away at a person.  Most of my life, I have lived in a place of fear - fear of the what-ifs,

fear of the unknown, fear of the next shoe to drop, fear of myself, etc. and etc. For a long time, it took away my ability to succeed: I was so afraid of “failure” that I wouldn’t even try, regardless of whether that “trying” was for inner peace or for outward successes.  At times, my fear nearly destroyed me but, even still, this lifetime of a fearful outlook has taught me some things about this massive emotion:  

The universe doesn't set us up to fail. Neither, though, does the universe always provide us a safety net. Sometimes we have to just leap off the damn platform and pray we've learned how to fall well enough that we don't break our necks. And if we're terrified? That's ok! That adrenaline our fear produces can keep us going until we are on solid ground again. But. The adrenaline is draining. Use it, but take time to care for yourself and replenish your energy. Eat. Even if you don't feel like it. Sleep. Even if you think you can't. And trust that everything happens for a reason, if only that reason is to lead us to a place we might not have gone without the kick in the ass that destruction gives us.

Trying Hard, a Self-Reflection

I grew up lucky.  I was blessed to have several raw talents, including a mind that could handle academics with ease.  This kind of luck comes with a curse, though.  You see, I never had to try. 

School (well, most of it - I still have nightmares about times tables) was always a breeze. I was always an A-B student and graduated fifth in a class of over 600 without ever putting out more than the bare minimum of effort into my work.  Sure, I did work...I researched, read, learned on my own...but only when it was fun and only with the things that piqued my interest for only as long as my interest stayed piqued.  I never worked hard.

Cultivating an Open Mind by Teaching Forgotten Histories

The other day, in Social Studies, the J-Rex and I were reading about the beginnings of civilization.  As we read, I found myself objecting to the anti-indigenous bent to the way our book addressed the issue, as if all hunter-gatherer cultures were inherently savage and "lesser" than the civilizations that were forming at the time. 

Why I don't Like Chester and the Big Bad Bully

I'm all about children's books that promote kindness and tolerance for everyone and, on the first several readings, I really liked Chester and the Big Bad Bully.  As time went on, though, I began to resent that book and the terrible lesson it taught my child.

Now, anyone who has ever read the book is probably wondering at this point what in the world I am talking about.  This whole series of books about Chester the Raccoon are promoted in schools for their value lessons, so how can I say it taught my child something wrong?  You might be picking up your child's copy right now and looking through the book to find anything amoral in it.  You could do this and you wouldn't find a thing.

That's because the terrible lesson this book taught my child was not amoral or unkind...it was the opposite: a saccharine-sweet, totally unrealistically optimistic lesson that will inevitably lead to pain and misery...

"If you are nice to a bad person, it will make them good"

A Reluctant Homeschooler: Four Reasons I Want to be Regulated

Our library subscribes to a fairly popular homeschooling magazine that has regular features about the legal issues that are part and parcel of educating your child at home.  A common theme I see in the editorials on this topic is the idea that we homeschoolers should do everything in our power, including the language we use to describe what we do, to avoid any legal regulations at all.  States like mine, where I have a minimum of record-keeping requirements and virtually no oversight to make sure I've fulfilled even those obligations, are a dream environment for the more libertarian-minded homeschool community.

Personally, I disagree. I want to be regulated.  Now, don't get me wrong, I certainly don't want the type of over-regulation typical of most of the bureaucracy in this country, but I would actually appreciate a bare minimum of oversight.  Why? Well, here you go:

Generations of Geeks, A Reflection

I am a second-generation geek, raised on a steady diet of comic books, Dr. Who, and Star Trek.  While my parents were playing Zork, I was working my way through it's kid-friendly equivalent, The Never-ending Story, and still remember the hours I put into translating my east and west text commands into a workable map to reference as I moved further into the game. I was the only girl in the comic shop, starting with the Archie universe and graduating to superheroes with Perez's re-vamp of Wonder Woman.  I was an equal-opportunity fan-girl, obsessed with both Marvel and DC, and a collector's nightmare because I would read those books until they started to fall apart. I attended Dr. Who fan club meetings and Trek conventions before I even knew more about them than Daleks were evil and Wil Wheaton was dreamy.

A Girl is a Girl is a Girl

Lately, I've been seeing the enlightened denizens of the internet spreading post after post praising young girls who are defying their traditional gender roles.  Now, while I love what these girls are doing, these memes are starting to get my feminist hackles up.  Why? There's no balance! Every single one of these articles or memes I see glorifies the tom-boy but not a one glorifies the strength of a girly-girl.  Worse still, the comments are all filled with adult womens' vitriol towards dolls and dress-up side by side with their praise of girls who want to play sports or do math...