I love this. Who doesn’t love mariachis, really? It’s so catchy, upbeat, and bouncy.
I love this. Who doesn’t love mariachis, really? It’s so catchy, upbeat, and bouncy.
One of the things that Republicans and conservatives have liked to bring up in regards to Barrack Obama is ACORN. ACORN is a community organization that works to register voters, especially low income, minority voters. Obama has had ties to them in the past.
There have been allegations that ACORN has submitted fraudulent registration cards, and that they are somehow trying to steal the election. Here is their response:
So, last night was Kayphore’s birthday. She wanted to go out to The City to see the former members of the Teenage Harlets play with various new groups. So, we headed out to The Mission, and The Knockout.
After filling Kayphore’s belly with some Mexican foods, we bellied up to the bar, and I bought her first Jack and Diet. It was the first of many, as it should be, because it was her birthday and all.
We sort of planted ourselves at the bar, for most of the night. I, to be honest, was enjoying the company, and didn’t really spend much time paying close attention to the bands.
It was actually an almost tame evening. There wasn’t a lot of debauchery, other than Kayphore was appropriately sauced. But regardless, I took a few photos.
We had a very good time, but as the designated Sober Sister, I was out very very late. Why am I still awake? I don’t know.
So, my earlier post brought out an unexpected response from a close friend. Basically, that I should feel lucky that strange men are yelling at me on the street based on my appearance. That it’s a compliment. And then there was mild chastisement for large sunglass wearing, texting “zombie” behavior. Apparently, I should thank my lucky stars for having won the genetic lottery and smile big and purdy whenever some random dude on the street feels like he just can’t contain himself and has to make a comment to me about my body.
Here’s the thing, and let there be no ambiguity in this, it is NOT OK for strange men to comment on a woman’s body or appearance while she’s going about her life. It is NOT A COMPLIMENT. It is HARASSMENT. Plan and simple. “Hey Baby!” is not a way to make a connection to another human being. It’s INSULTING.
Great Gallant This mostly verbal harassment involves excessive compliments and personal comments that focus on appearance and gender, and are out of place or embarrassing to the recipient. Such comments are sometimes accompanied by leering looks. The “wolf whistles” of a street harasser are one example of this.
Even the “you’re so pretty,” “you’ve got pretty eyes,” and “I like your hair” variety is still offensive. Why? Because IT IS objectifying. They don’t like me. They’re not interested in me. They’re interested in my body, my eyes, and my hair, which are parts of the whole, but not the whole of the person. Also, these are usually just ins to continue with some other line or to get more foul. Heaven forbid you ENGAGE, because then they could start FOLLOWING you.
On a personal level, I am NOT OBLIGATED to look you in the eye nor smile at you if you are a strange (unknown to me) man. It’ll be a cold day in HELL when I start smiling at random strange men. Why? Because I have a strong Self-Preservation Instinct. I’ve been told since I was a very young girl NOT TO TALK TO STRANGERS.
You may feel like I’m over-reacting, but I’d say that that’s because you haven’t experienced much of this. It is a real problem. And these interactions can be very dangerous. For instance, this last May, 18 year old Mildred Beaubrun was shot and later died in Orlando after refusing to give a stranger her phone number.
The first time it ever happened to me, I hadn’t even begun puberty. I was eleven years old, and a grown man yelled something at me as I walked down the street. Two men on a public bus also looked me up and down, and one turned to another and said, “you can tell when they wear shorts like that that they want it.” You can’t tell me that that was a compliment. It was gross intimidation, clear and simple, not to mention pedophilia, except that I just did. And as a child, it was scary, because how was I to know how far that man would take it.
And the thing is, it’s exactly the same today as it was then. The men are still using the same words, sounds, and looks. So, why shouldn’t I still feel like it’s wrong? Why is it supposed to be different just because I’m an adult?
So, yeah, I do the iPod thing. Anywhere I’m walking, unless it’s after dark, I have my headphones in, so that I don’t hear this crap. I stare at my phone when I walk down the street, hoping that if I’m occupied, they’ll leave me alone. And I wear my sunglasses on BART, even when it’s dark, because I don’t want anyone thinking I’m making eye contact and taking that as encouragement.
And apparently I’m not alone – Elizabeth’s Story
And I got a whole lot of linkage:
So, sorry Uncle Samurai, but you really got my blood boiling. I still consider you a good friend, but I hope you’ll think a little more carefully about my perspective.
I stole this from a MySpace bulletin from Commander Angel Nova, because it’s just about perfect:
Leave our constitution alone! Vote NO on Prop 8. Don’t take rights away from Californians.
Redheads get catcalled more frequently. This is what I have learned since Saturday, when I got my hair done. I mean, honestly, it happens to most women. And as an independent type, who spends a lot of time walking her happy ass around Oakland, it might happen to me more than some. Just a few weeks ago, an old, dirty, drunk man was making kissy faces and noises at my formerly blonde self in a Tahoe casino.
Now, this is not the first time I’ve had red hair. I’ve had just about every color hair that you can imagine, from black to blonde, pink and purple. But I don’t really recall having this happen before. The closest I can relate is when I was walking down the street with my flamingo pink highlights, and some enlightened soul yelled “FREAK” at me from out of their car window as they drove by.
So, on Sunday, when a man whose car was stopped at the crosswalk I was utilizing leaned out his window and hollered, “Nice hair color!” somewhat effeminately, I was startled. I replied with a “Thank you,” and I continued on my happy way. That didn’t seem too threatening, and more than anything, I was just startled.
Last night, again in a cross walk, a man in a delivery van seemed to be trying to get my attention. I had my headphones on, so I didn’t quite catch what he was saying, and I assumed that he was trying to ask directions, or something. It took me a second to realize what was going on. That was a little more disturbing, and I wish that I’d heard what he was saying, and that if it had been anything resembling “Hey Red!” I could have responded appropriately . . . by flipping him off.
So, I think I’m going to try to pay attention to what’s going on around me, and make notes when this happens. If I’m really on the ball, maybe I’ll whip out my phone and snap some photos to submit to Holla Back SF.
‘Cause, you know, just because I’m walking down the street with red hair, that does not mean that it’s in any way appropriate for strangers to yell things at me. Even if you think you’re being complimentary, it’s still rude. If you respect me as a human being, and you think I’m pretty, you’ll find a better way to communicate that. Missed connections on Craig’s List, maybe.
Tonight, I could have gone out. I could be out at a Maldroid show, doing my crazy single girl thing. Or at the very least, I could have gone to the gym. (Gyme?)
But I’m not. I’m just being lazy instead. I’m sitting here on my couch, wearing pajamas since nine this evening.
I feel like a worthless slug.
But I don’t really care. And I’m realizing that sometimes the craziest thing a single girl can do is just let herself be lazy and do nothing.
So, I’m in a sharing the love kind of mood, and I think lots of folks are gonna benefit from this.
Mama Bear and I have been friends for a very long time. Like, multiple decades. She recently added a new little guy into her life, her adorable son Devon.
So, here’s some of the things that make her wonderful:
Awwwwww. . . it’s a love fest today!!!!
I think I’m going to blush now.
A few months ago, at BFD, I spent some time with Kayphore. I had been acquainted with her for over a year, but I’d never really gotten the chance to just hang out with her. Then I was left to my own devices that day, not really knowing the folks around me too well, and I ended up spending most of a day with her. It pretty much changed my life.
Here are all the reasons why she’s completely awesome:
So, those are all the reasons why it makes me very happy to call Kayphore my friend, and why I never got very upset about being left alone at BFD.
And now I’ll stop gushing.
I hope that this doesn’t embarrass her too much. And I hope that my other friends don’t think that I *heart* them any less. There’s enough of my nerdy admiration to go around, I promise.
This is what I look like to Robot 9