Authenticity

I can't ever go too long without writing without feeling like all of the (brilliant) ideas in my mind have no canvas.  It's been a particularly long bout, and while I am fairly transparent with those I interact with in real time, I have an issue with being transparent on my blog, which I am vowing to change.

My latest experiences seem to be my experiment with authenticity.  I had a professor at Columbia who urged me to be authentic in my group interactions, and that the "real" experiences would be the outcome of my choice to be myself.  Those words have stuck with me the last few years as I try to experience my interactions with others as a way to truly be myself and be open to let others in.

I seem to tether between conformity and authenticity, as if this is a dichotomy that cannot exist on the same plane. I would like to believe that I don't have to choose between the two.  Why must I sit in limbo and feel like I have to choose between who I am, and where I've come from?

The Mormon church tends to foster a sense of conformity to the casual observer.  An in crowd vs. an out crowd.  There is an illusion that there are no cafeteria Mormons.  When you feel this sense that you either have to step up or step out, my natural inclination is step out.  But what if my authentic self doesn't want to step out?  What if I want to be authentic to who I am AND be Mormon? Is there a place for me at the table?

So my experiment has been to test this out for myself.  I pierced my ears.  I attend another denomination before attending Mormon services.  I wore a tank top to Mormon church.

The experience has been terrifying and liberating.  Would people judge me for not being like them?  Would the modern day Pharisees tell me to cover my shoulders and to exercise more faith?  I felt internalized judgment, because I've been the judger.  But being who I am has opened me up to less judgment towards others as well, which I think is a more Christian notion than hemlines and earring holes.

But something amazing is happening.  I'm authentic, and so I open up to others more at church.  I introduce myself.  I'm friendly, and welcoming, and extroverted.  Now, if you've known me in a past social situation, you will know that this is remarkable.  And in turn, others are opening up to me.  My leaders are applauding my choice to attend 2 faith services on Sunday.  My peers are supporting my exploration.  My peers are confiding in me their own explorations. And most importantly, I'm delving in to a deeper and stronger relationship with God than I ever previously had when I felt like I was hiding who I am.

"Mansplaining"

My feminist ears have been burning. After Rep. Todd Akin "misspoke" and then recanted his comments earlier this week, I have been tuning in to the conversations happening in the media regarding the (in)validation of a woman's experience (especially regarding something as traumatizing and serious as sexual assualt). In a similar vein, a friend of mine shared an article with me that I can't help but tie with Rep. Akin's remarks.


This article by author Rebecca Solnit shares the authors discourse with her male counterparts throughout her career. She talks about the problem with "Men Explaining Things", a term coined "mansplaining". Solnit describes this phenomenon: she is well-versed, well-researched, or in fact the author or expert on a topic and finds herself invalidated by a man who either refuses to listen or believe her knowledge. This man's explanation directly invalidates her lived experience and her perspective as a woman.


Solnit says, "Men explain things to me, and other women, whether or not they know what they are talking about." I have had this experience happen to me in both social and professional spheres. After my time at Columbia University, I had a conversation with a male friend, who felt the need to educate me on the Ivy League. He gave me information full of false statements, unfounded evidence, and downright ludicrous "facts", that he felt the need to explain to me and appear the expert on. I remember his saying incredulously to me, "you went to an Ivy League school and you don't even know anything about the Ivy League?"


I have had similar conversations with men about rape myths, despite my senior capstone research on the subject. I've had conversations in social circles where men, not of the counseling profession, jump in to explain what counseling is, preventing me from even answering the question of "what is it that you do?" (This is when I in fact was practicing as a counselor).


These experiences invalidate the experience of a woman--in this case, me. A less aware woman may walk away from these interactions questioning if she really knows anything about the school she got her graduate degree from, whether her research is worth mentioning, or whether it is worth the fight to discourse on her own chosen career path.


The article really struck a chord with me (given Representative Akin's comments) when Solnit relays the story told by a guest at a party, about a woman who ran from her home naked, exclaiming that her husband was trying to kill her. This man feels the need to explain that this could not have been the case, that this was an upstanding family, that the woman's statement could not possibly be truth. This slowly quiets every woman's voice, slowly allows the fight to be won that this is not our world too.


Solnit says it better than I, when she says, "The battle with Men Who Explain Things has trampled down many women—of my generation, of the up-and-coming generation we need so badly." Women need to support each other by validating their lived experiences and knowledge. Men who are allies need to support and stand up for women. These subtle moments where a man, whether knowledgeable or not, holds the final trump card with no apologies, is unacceptable.


And so I write my own stories, and my own reaffirmation of this phenomenon, so that the man at this party, Rep. Akin, and any other man who feels the need to appear the expert on a subject at the expense of a knowledgeable woman have voices to reckon with. I am another woman's voice confirming that our perspective is valid, real, and yes, we may know more than you every once in a while.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

So I wasn't going to say anything, but the more I sit and stew, the more necessary it becomes for me to say something.  I follow quite a few feminist blogs, groups, and organizations, which is what prompts my remarks today. So while the following may sound like whining or complaining, this often seems like my only outlet to raise awareness in my own small way.  Both of the stories today happen to be about the magazine industry.

Two issues (no pun intended):

1.  I received a notification of the victory that 14-year-old Julia Bluhm has achieved, by getting Seventeen magazine (through her petition on Change.org) to stop photoshopping their teen models.  The report states that Seventeen's "editor-in-chief vows not to use Photoshop to alter the face shape and body sizes of its teen models, and that it will feature a diversity of models with different body shapes, races, and hair textures".

And this is the picture that Julia is featured with:

Sooo...am I missing something?  From what I can see, I do not see any different body shapes, maybe I'm hallucinating but all those girls look White to me, and pretty sure all of them also have one hair texture.  If they wanted to show accuracy of what a teen looks like, Julia herself clearly has a different look than these models, with some teen acne on her face, and some frizzy flyaways :).  Looks like Seventeen may need a few more petitions to get THAT message across.

2.  I received an email from Missrepresentation.org.  (If you haven't seen the film, see it.) This email was about the cover of GQ this month, featuring a scantily clad Kate Upton in a string bikini, and a "patriotic" popsicle in her mouth.

Missrepresentation.org says, "Meanwhile none of the other popular men's magazines presented an alternative to this depiction of what makes a woman great. Is this how we want our men to value women in this country - as sexualized objects alone? "

The objectification of women is alive and well.  Not only is this phallic pose demeaning to women (not to mention patriotism), but this magazine is on display in stores where young children, teens, and even grown men and women are receiving messages that this is what merits a woman to be on the front cover.

Missrepresentation.org is encouraging a positive reaction--asking women to go write down a list of women who inspire you and who SHOULD be on the covers of magazines. The sad thing is, this is just ONE cover of a magazine that was brought to my attention today.  I'm sure for the one link I've given, thousands of covers just like it could be tied to that link instead.

So in the spirit of one 14-year-old trying to make a difference and Missrepresentation.org encouraging women to internalize what really makes women great, I encourage others to not stay silent as magazines continue to be printed that damage the self-image, self-esteem and self-worth of women, and send messages to women and men that a woman only makes the front page based on her (real or not) cup size and (again real or not) hair color.

Overpriced Discrimination

I know I have mentioned in previous posts my distaste for the monopoly that retailers have on Plus-size fashion.  I've just stumbled upon something that reiterates this point.  Thank you, Nordstrom, for keeping Lane Bryant in business:

What is this beautiful woman doing wearing an embroidered, shapeless tunic for 162 dollars?

Sizeism is alive and well in the fashion industry.  How is a woman who is plus-sized supposed to feel good about herself when her "high end" fashion option is this?  The person that designed this and the retailer that approved this are clearly out of touch with what a plus-size woman wants, and in my opinion, ultimately needs in order to feel her best self.

Not to mention, that to get to this top on the Nordstrom website, I had to click under "Special Sizes".  Plus-size women are not a special interest group.

I'm off to go buy myself a tent to wear--it'll be cheaper than this top, and give the same effect.

Operation Cowgirl: Part 2

After a not-so-brief hiatus, I've finally settled enough in to my life in Houston to re-enter my world of blogging.  3 months ago I made a list of reasons to move to Houston.  Not only is this city influencing the way I live, speak, and eat, but my own adjustment period has had some influence on how my life is shaping upas well.  As much as I'd like to give a report of miraculous differences or changes, this list will have to suffice. 

So without further adieu: things I've picked up on, observed, learned, noticed, frequented in my short tenure here:

1.  I may or may not have started to use "ya'll" on a regular basis
2.  "This isn't my first rodeo"
3.  U-turn lanes at the off-ramp of every freeway exit.  Still don't really quite understand this one.
4.  Cockroaches.  Why?
5.  Things to do without Internet or TV:.....still working on this one.
6.  Slower elevators (and more polite elevator patrons)
7.  Um, people are nice.
8.  No State Tax Withholding.  Everybody loves this, until you see the state of the roads.
9.  Bigger soft drinks (who needs a refill when you get a 44 oz the first time?)
10.  Rodeo, Car Shows, Big Trucks, BBQ, Cajun (ok this is more than 1, but oh well).

PS.  Target, I love you.

The City I Love to Hate

My friend Jenn once compared a person's love affair with New York City to the phases of an abusive relationship.  For those of you not familiar with that cycle, it involves a "tension" phase, "abuse" phase, and "honeymoon" phase.  New York City is clearly the abuser in this scenario.

I have definitely been roped in to each phase of that cycle, and so as I prepare to leave New York yet again, I'm reflecting on the abusive moments and the honeymoons, and all the tension in between.

Let's start with abuse:

• Hearing the echoes of other people's headphones on my morning commute.  I don't need to hear that you're still listening to "Only Girl in the World" by Rihanna on blast at 7:45am, thankyouverymuch.
• Getting up close and personal with my fellow New Yorkers for 35 minutes each way, each day.  In the winter time this involves a mad dash to the subway in 20 degree snow/wind, followed by a stuffy 80 degrees smashed against 50 people, followed by another 20 degree dash, while simultaneously sweating and freezing your a** off.
• No free refills on fountain drinks at restaurants.  3 dollars, for ONE small glass of diet coke.
• The men that leer at me at the R&R Deli next door to my apartment.
• The woman that tries to give me the New York Metro magazine, every. single. morning.
• Lack of enough Target in my life.  Lack of Torrid in my life.  Lack of malls in my life.
• I sleep on a twin bed.  Enough said.
• Lines.  Lines at Starbucks.  Lines at Shake Shack. Lines at the Grocery Store.  Even lines to swipe your Metrocard.
• $13.50 for any movie after NOON.
• Winter. Winter. Winter.

However, like a classic abuser, New York inevitably apologizes, and ropes you back in.  I still get nostalgic about the following:

• The trees in Central Park turning pink in the springtime.
• A fresh slice of pizza or a freshly toasted bagel for less than 2 dollars.
• Seamlessweb.com. Grubhub.com. Menupages.com.  Pizza isn't the only thing that delivers here kids.
• Walking by Orlando Bloom, Julianne Moore, Bill Cosby, Kelly Ripa, Martin Sheen, and the infamous Tyra Banks.
• Dining outside on a fall evening, watching people walk by, enjoying the city lights, the city noise, and the breeze.
• Diversity in it's truest form
• Pancake month at Clinton St. Baking Company
• Hot Chocolate month at City Bakery
• Chelsea Market
• Brunch
• Anything and (almost) everything is within walking distance (see abuse re: Target and Torrid)
• Madison Square Park
• The plethora of pictures I have captured on my iPhone of fellow New Yorkers, including the woman eating Cool Whip at the bus stop, the plus size woman modeling her small H&M dress, the street worker coming home at 7am on the subway, or even the fashionable European couple taking a stroll.

Oh New York.  Inevitably the tension will mount again.  And so I take another hiatus from you.  At least for now.

Operation Cowgirl

Since I can't seem to sit still (literally and figuratively), it's time to write about, and begin, a new chapter in my life.

Let's call it: Operation Cowgirl.  That's right kids, I'm grabbing my belt buckles, spurs, (my boyfriend reminded me not to forget my six shooter), and boarding a plane from JFK to HOU.

I leave for Houston, Texas a week from Saturday.  Despite the fact that for the 2nd time in 6 months I'm shifting my location, my transportation options, and my employer (well, fingers crossed), and that I have a sneaking suspicion I'm a little politically misaligned for the place, I'm looking forward to an adventure full of the following (I like lists, if you didn't know):

1.  Living in the 4th largest city in the USA (so it's not #1, but 4 isn't bad)
2.  Living near (ish) to a coast, and not a cold Northeast coast.
3.  Living 4.5 hours from Baton Rouge, LA and 6 hours from New Orleans, LA according to Googlemaps.
4.  Mexican food (sorry New York, this has been your downfall).
5.  The highest number of restaurants per capita in the US, according to a recruiter I spoke to.
6.  There's always this.
7.  Living in a more centrally located place in the US will lure my friends from both sides to me, wink wink.
8.  The fact that relocating puts the song "I'm Goin to Wichita" in my head for inexplicable reasons.
9.  Finding out just how many interesting things my hair is capable of in high heat + high humidity.
10.  Oh, and my boyfriend might have something to do with this :)

Stay tuned, this is gonna be good.

Waxing Philosophical

This seems to be the first year I've really embraced the "life is a journey, not a destination" notion.  I graduated from Columbia with a blank slate in front of me and no idea what to make of it.  And so far, it's been quite the roller coaster.  It's been an incredible year in discovering what is going to work for me post-school life, post-graduation, and post-emerging-adulthood if you will.  I'm discovering that this is my narrative, my story, I'm the author, that the best is still unwritten and all that jazz.

I remember sitting at Thai Market in October, with my 3 new roommates, 2 from India, and 1 Indian American, and marveling at the shift my life has taken.  From the confusion of working in counseling and not knowing my next step, to realizing that I don't need to know my next step, to just taking it day by day, to embracing every new opportunity that has come my way, I was truly taken aback by the emotion I felt.  It was a moment I truly felt connected to the human spirit, to the beauty of life, how it evolves, and how each day can really bring new and unexpected opportunities.

So, 3 jobs, 1 career shift, 1 cross-country relocation, 1 new best friend, and 1 boyfriend later, I've learned the following lessons about life and about myself (with a little sarcasm mixed in) in 2011:

1.  I can be my most harsh critic.  Redefining failure and success has completely altered my view of the world and the risks I am wiling to take.

2. I have the best friends in the world.  I would not, and I mean that literally, be where I am sitting today, without their support.  Friends who encouraged me to follow my heart, who let me sleep in their living rooms and spare bedrooms for weeks on end, who fed or bought me dinner, who cheered me on through long days of interviews, through homesickness, loneliness, doubts, all the way to celebrating victories and laughs, and even getting me through a hurricane.

3.  The amount of money in your checking account (or the amount of money you owe in student loans) is not directly related to your happiness.  That's not saying that I don't still wish that one of those Change.org petitions about erasing everyone's student loans wouldn't magically change my life, but still.

4.  My family will always be my family.  Cliche I know.  And brilliant I know.  But, I am learning through all the shifts, that whether or not it's time for my parents to downsize and move in to a different house than what I consider "home", or my brother living in Argentina, or my younger sister having a baby, my even younger sister getting ready to graduate high school, or my older sister flourish in to a successful entrepreneur, that all that is required of me is to reach out and connect and that none of these external changes really matter.

5.  I'm going to be ok.  It doesn't matter if I live in Arizona, New York, or Timbuktu, if I make 10 dollars an hour or 50, if I listen to myself and what is best for me, I will always find my way.

So as I get ready to head home for the holidays and close out this year, I am thinking of all the people I've been blessed to cross paths with, and resonating with these words:

My Heart is ravished with delight,
when thee I think upon;
All Grief and Sorrow takes the flight,
and speedily is gone;
The bright resemblance of thy Face,
so fills this, Heart of mine;
That Force nor Fate can me displease,
for Auld Lang Syne.

25 Facts About Me and My Life Part Deux

By popular demand (ok not really), I am writing a sequel to my original Facebook post containing 25 facts about me and my life.  For the first edition, click here.

So without further adieu:

1.  Due to the recent events of my life, I know way too much about drug addiction.  Including what heroin withdrawals, pill overdose, and just plain craziness look like.

2.  I hate washing my hair.

3.  I am morally opposed to all things below 50 degrees farenheit.  This weather change causes me to do things fiscally irresponsible like buy inordinate amounts of boots and scarves, and hail cabs without realizing it.

4.  I have stitches on my left arm from playing on a broken swingset.  I have stitches on my forehead from crashing in to the corner of a dresser.

5.  I am a sucker for all things miniature (including babies, snowmen, and all things travel size).

6.  I do an uncanny impersonation of Elmo (and have a slight obsession with him).

7.  My sister Stephanie and I quote random people from our past on an almost daily basis.  This includes my BYU college roommates, former coworkers who probably don't remember who we are, all the way to random strangers we rode the bus with in elementary school.

8.  My sister Angela and I have developed a random affinity towards talking in alien voices, which then prompts my impression of Toucan Sam.

9.  I. Love. Pizza. And bagels.  This may be why I have a love/hate relationship with New York City.

10.  I am a raging feminist, with a love for all things gender celebratory.  But, I don't kill bugs.  That's a man's job.

11.  Despite my training as a counselor, if you try to explain instructions or rules to me, I will immediately tune out and stop listening.

12.  I like to randomly use words I learned from studying for the GRE in 2007, including amalgamate.  And abscond.

13.  I love watching movies.  I hate watching TV.

14.  Flying on airplanes makes me nauseous.  I hate the smell of stale air.  I compensate for this by purchasing trashy magazines and 14 different kinds of snacks before boarding.

15.  I secretly want to be the next person to record the subway announcements for the New York MTA.

16.  I am simultaneously a peace maker and a drama queen.

17.  Because everyone seems to feel betrayed when they learn they never knew this about me, I am left handed.  There, I said it.

18.  For some odd reason, I have a reputation for being loud.

19.  I'm basically a vegetarian.  Except for cheeseburgers.  And carne asada.

20.  I am bad at taking eye exams.  I have been incorrectly prescribed strong corrective lenses about 10 times throughout my childhood.

21.  If you care, my love language is quality time.  If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can click here.

22.  Diet coke.  Duh.

23.  I have a (slightly) irrational fear of driving over water.  Bridges collapse sometimes.  Like in Harry Potter 6 for example.

24.  I have social anxiety.  It's a real thing.

25.  Oh, and I'm part of the 99%.

And Then Skinny was STILL the New Skinny

Thanks to the fact that some people read my blog, I have had some kind friends and family give me links to things that are in line with my interests.

The latest is this article: http://healthyisthenewskinny.com/2011/10/beautiful-imperfection-katie-halchishick%E2%80%99s-iconic-photo-hits-the-stands/ that discusses the nude photo of Katie Halchishick, who has dotted lines superimposed to show where the "perfection" lines would be drawn in most typical model shots. 

While I love the idea that "healthy is the new skinny" I'm yet to be convinced that one photo of a (still quite) thin (and probably still quite airbrushed) woman is that much progress in the right direction.  This article simultaneously cites the novelist Amy Bloom who wrote a "Dear Every Woman" article for this feature in O magazine.  Bloom encourages women to "walk around pretending" you like your body because it does no good to compare yourself to the airbrushed models on billboards. Bloom further says, "Because every step toward self-love you take, and every inch of confidence you give someone’s daughter, makes the world a better place….".

First off, if you ask me, self-love shouldn't have anything to do with your size.  Second, this article alone sends a contradictory message.  To me it says, "things aren't really changing, so just try and ignore the billboards." As in, "you're still going to have to muster up the gusto inside of you to convince yourself you have a great body".  Even the 15 year old girl surveyed for this article stated that the picture made her feel bad if this was the image of less than perfect that we've come up with.

The article points to two other iconic photos of "larger" women that have hit the media as well (one of which is an image in one of my previous posts). I have a hard time seeing how 3 photos, versus thousands, or even millions of photos of skeletal women, could do much to truly convince women that healthy really in fact is, the new skinny.  But perhaps the media has a different definition of even the word "healthy" at this point.

Lane Bryant: Monopolizing the Market and Taking Advantage of Plus Size Women Everywhere

It's not a secret that there are not many clothing options available to plus size women.  Before Torrid emerged on the market in 2001 (I have a love/hate relationship with this retailer that will not be discussed here), Lane Bryant was literally almost the only retailer focusing on the plus size market.  Many consumers don't realize that Lane Bryant also owns two other well known plus size options--both Fashion Bug and Catherine's.  I will acknowledge that other retailers carry a plus-size line, but this is typically online only, or a selection of 2 or 3 items.

While it's commendable that Lane Bryant has decided to market size 14+ while many retailers continue to cap their items at a size 14, I cannot help but feel there is an inherent evil in the monopoly they currently hold, and what this does to the clothing fate of a plus size woman.

My grievances:

Price:  Most of Lane Bryant's items are HIGHLY overpriced for what they are. Basic tops with no special branding run upwards of 50 dollars, and jeans in similar categories run around 100.

Quality:  Which brings me to my next bullet.  It would be one thing if high priced items were high quality.  But typically, items from Lane Bryant have poor stitching, are made of fabrics that fade, and are in general mediocre quality items.  If I wanted an H&M quality item, I would go to H&M.  But wait...there are slim to no plus size options at H&M.

Fashion: Now I will say that Lane Bryant has made SOME efforts in recent years to appeal to a wider audience, most of the "fashions" provided are aligned with an old-school notion that plus-size women all look the same, and that any patterned tent will do.  Lane Bryant does have different "shapes" for their jeans and slacks lines as of a couple years ago, however, I still cannot seem to get any of the 3 options to work for me.
 
Customer Service:  Finally, it's rare to find quality customer service at a Lane Bryant.  I typically have to seek out a sales associate to open a room for me, they lack knowledge on item availability or shipping options, and have a general blase attitude about customer service.

The sad thing here is, Lane Bryant doesn't have to do anything about any of this to stay in business.  Because most 14+ size women don't have any other choice but to get ripped off just to clothe themselves.

My Thoughts Exactly

This was posted on LDS WAVE today:

 

A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and b...eautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"

The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:

"Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness.
They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.
They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.

Mermaids do not exist.

But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish?
They would have no sex life and could not bear children.
Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad.
And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?

Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale.

At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.

We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies.
We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated.

Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! "

(The girl on the picture is French model Tara Lynn)

By: Delphine Fieberg

Old Fashioned Chivalry and Modern Day Feminism

Despite my feminist leanings, I still can't help but swoon a little at any man who stands up and offers his seat to a woman on the subway.

But then I got to thinking, can I simultaneously advocate the concept of chivalry and the concept of feminism?  I worried that accepting chivalry would be to accept some kind of "special treatment" that would therefore negate the premises of feminism.

Dictionary.com's definition of chivalry is:  "The sum of the ideal qualifications of a knight, including courtesy, generosity, valor, and dexterity in arms."  Well, sounds to me like all of those qualities are highly admirable (though dexterity in arms is a little less applicable today).  I then expanded this discussion with my friend Jenn (she's 2 n's, I'm 1).  She said she would add to this definition, "chivalry celebrates the differences in the sexes."

But,I would like to take Jenn's definition of chivalry one step further and say that my brand of feminism "celebrates the differences in the sexes".  I do not believe in the old brand of feminism that strives to make men out of women.

Rather, I think it is important that feminism gives equal opportunity to women, while simultaneously celebrating the inherent differences between men and women.

So, my answer for now then, is yes, Chivalry and Feminism please.

Mysterious Disappearances

I've been using Facebook disproportionately more than usual at this temp job. Add that Facebook has made some changes today, including the addition of "lists" on the left hand toolbar, and the amount of time clocked today would borderline an unhealthy level. Which brings me to the discovery today that someone I know unfriended me.

I'm all in favor of full disclosure and constructive criticism, and therefore propose this additional "update" to Facebook.

If you unfriend someone, Facebook should give you a drop down to inquire as to why, and send this feedback to the unfriended.  I've even come up with the reasons that they can provide:

1.  The person's status updates have become unbearable and hiding the person just isn't going to cut it.
2.  The person was never a "friend" to begin with.
3.  The person was a "real life" friend at one point, and no longer is, i.e., you've already unfriended in the flesh.
4.  Stalking has reached an unhealthy level--either on your end or theirs.

I may or may not have unfriended people for these exact reasons.  But, I can't help but want to know others' line of reasoning for unfriending me.  Afterall, if you have chosen any of those above reasons, how offended could one be to receive this type of "notification"?

There you go, Zuckerberg. 

This Just In, My Celebrity Look Alike

I just got told by the broadway-singer-in-another-life doorman:

*Holds elevator*...."Darling, you know who you look like?  A YOUNG Elvis Presley.  Now don't take this the wrong way darling, it's not a bad thing."

Right.

Guilty Pleasures

Because I feel like it. Enjoy.

1.  Buying expensive high heels that I can't afford, and know I will never wear. 

I may or may not have a pair of BCBG heels I have worn one time.  And a pair of Guess heels I have worn twice.

2.  Celebrity Gossip. 

I can never get enough of knowing what's happening with Patrick Dempsey and his precious little family.  I mean, just in case things go bad, I need to know when to step in.

3.  $1.95 Big Gulp Diet Coke at 7-11 despite the RIDICULOUS price. 

(86 cent fountain drink from QT was less of a guilty pleasure financially)

4.  Teen Pop Music. 

Yes, I might have Miley Cyrus, Vanessa Hudgens, and Ashley Tisdale on my iPod.

5.  Ordering something from every category on the menu, just because my parents aren't there to tell me not to. 

Yes, I'd like a fruity drink, an appetizer, a meal, and a dessert please.

Mesearch

Well.  Because I have the next 6 hours in front of me to potentially do nothing at all, you, my dedicated readers (which so far, is only 3 of you), get to hear my latest rant.  (And really, feel free to click "follow" at the top left of your screen.)

I had an adviser at Columbia that would always say, "Research is Me-search".  So, if my blog seems skewed in relation to career and identity topics, it likely coincides with the fact that I am trying to figure out my career identity.  So I've been doing a lot of research and thinking a lot about what the necessary pieces for a successful vocation are.

I remember a graph in my career counseling class that put low and high income on the y-axis and low and high prestige on the x-axis.  Based on which categories you fit in to, you are then put in to a particular quadrant.  Counseling, for example, is low income, high prestige.  However, the position I am at right now, whatever it's title may be, would be classified as low prestige, high(ish) income.  Through my journeying, I am realizing what quadrant I would prefer to be in.  While counseling was an ill fit for me, I prefer the low income, high prestige category.

Now unfortunately, most low income, high prestige positions (teaching, counseling, social work, motherhood) are predominately or solely (e.g. motherhood) occupied by women.  This begs the question of whether womens' career choices are viewed as admirable, yet undervalue from a financial standpoint.  To me, this seems like a nice pat on the head from society.  "Noble cause women, but don't think we're about to pay you for what your cause is worth."  This isn't a new idea, but I'm sure starting to feel the repercussions of it in my own life.

In order for women to be highly compensated in her career track, she must either a) enter a career predominantly occupied by men, or b)assimilate for masculine traits in to her identity.  As neither A nor B sound like valid options for me, this begs the question: 

Is it possible for my identity as a woman to flourish, enter a career that offers me a valuable identity and significant amount of prestige, and be highly compensated for it?  I'd like to think I'm not asking too much, for that opportunity seems to exist for the majority of men in this world (well as long as they toe the party line of what society has deemed "masculine" that is).

The American Dream....And Then You Woke Up

Disclaimer:  Optimists and Idealists beware.

According to our friends at Wikipedia, "The American Dream is a national ethos of the United States in which freedom includes a promise of the possibility of prosperity and success."  This idea has sustained itself through the centuries, and even American Family Insurance is running a campaign right now asking consumers to vote on whether the American Dream is in fact real.

I'd love to be blogging about something interesting happening in my comings and goings today, but seeing as I'm sitting in a live tomb right now, the odds are strikingly low.  This same observation about my day leads me to give American Family Insurance my answer.

It doesn't seem to me that freedom includes this so-called "promise".  At least it definitely doesn't guarantee it.  Not to mention it's only the promise of a possibility.  What kind of odds are those?  In light of recent events in my job search, relocation, interviewing, and more interviewing, it seems that opportunity is presented to a certain demographic, or that there appears to be a certain "factor" employers are looking for.  Education and ability alone does not prosperity make--because if that were the case I'd be rich and successful.  Instead, I"m interviewing for jobs that offer a pittance of a salary despite the requirement for higher education and experience, or offer to give me the dementor's kiss in exchange for a day at their office.

I'm fully convinced that women are not given the same opportunities as men, people of color not give the same opportunities as Whites, large people not given the same opportunities as thin, and older people not the same opportunity as young.  America has morphed in to a society of -isms, and those values subsequently and largely categorize your range of ability within your own sphere to capture this so-called dream. 

This may mean that having any hope or dream at all in the face of this kind of reality is pretty slim.

And Then There Was The Time I Lynched A Shark Tank Judge

So my sister informed me the other night that she was watching Shark Tank, and plus-size fashion designer, Gayla Bentley, asked for an investment for a high-end line of plus-size fashion clothing.

While debating whether this was a sales pitch worth investing in, one judge wondered, "Is it possible that larger sized women don't care about fashion as much?"

There are so many assumptions and microaggressions (thanks Dr. Derald Sue) wrapped up in that statement that I don't even know where to begin.

In my opinion, the judge implies that a person who wears over a size 12 in clothing (and Bentley points out that 60% of women in the United States do. which I then confirmed with the US Department of Health) must not care about her personal appearance.  Seems to me that he implies that size is 100% personal choice, and that if these women (myself included) cared enough about fashion, we'd have the decency to lose a few pounds.

Nevermind those who struggle with slow metabolism,  hypothyroidism, disability, or PCOS.  Last I checked, a symptom of PCOS wasn't "lack of interest in fashion." Not to mention that this judge just lumped together an entirely large (no pun intended) and diverse group of women, with no regard for individual differences or preferences.

Then again, maybe we really all are too busy sitting on the couch eating Oreos by the box to care what clothes we have on.

"Yes, I know how to send a fax"

The ample amount of free time that has recently become my life, coupled with the raging inner feminist in me dying to get out, has rekindled my desire to keep up with my blog.

I'm currently temping at a Firm Which Shall Not Be Named in New York City, and it is currently testing my level of tolerance for the amount of mind-numbing time I can endure.  However, periodically, I am asked to do something.

Now, a little background--I am the administrative assistant for 4 gentlemen who are too lazy (or maybe too busy, or maybe too rich, I can't decide) to do the mundane tasks I am asked to do.  Imagine Tevia from Fiddler on the Roof, multiply it by 4, add a modern day spin that includes yelling incessantly about closing deals, and I've accurately depicted my current environment.

So while I'm being paid an unusually large sum of money given the level of responsibility I have, I cannot help but see this as a situation that shatters my hope that a woman's place in the world has really progressed all that much.

I have now been asked 3 times by the gentlemen that I work for: "Do you know how to send a fax?"

Oh wait? What? That little special machine with buttons and numbers on it?  And a tray to put papers in?

YES, I KNOW HOW TO SEND A FAX.

I can't help but wonder if a male were sitting at this desk if he would be asked the same insulting question.