Quick list of STUFF today!

So, I apologize to everyone, but I've got a lot going on at the present time and I'm not feeling particularly insightful today. Not to leave you with no post and nothing new to think about, I'm just going to post a quick little list of stuff to ponder and links to visit. Everybody cool? Great!

• Could Elphaba's mother really give consent? What the hell was IN that Green Elixir? Yeah... the things one thinks about when one is a feminist musical-lover.
• Project Unbreakable - a picture project to give voice to survivors of sexual violence
• Thing you can do TODAY to make a difference: donate gently-used clothing to crisis centers/shelters/etc. It's season-change time and it's time to do a little closet purging. While you're at it, consider picking up an extra pack of basic underpants next time you're out. Rape victims are often required to give up their clothing for evidence collection. A couple bucks and you can provide someone who really needs it with a pair of undies. 
• Guys - this article makes a fascinating argument for doing the right thing!
• This is not exactly feminist-related but... for the love of several gods, make sure you're drinking enough water! My recent battle with dehydration just makes me want to remind everybody to take good care of themselves. You've only got the one body this time around - take care of it!

Okay, that's about all I have the brain-power for today! I'm gonna go put the dog on his leash and take him out to see the pretty sunshine! Love for everybody!

Marigold, experiencing exam-brain, wishing everyone a happy Tyr's Day - look it up!

Relevant to Issues of Crossplay

How many times have you heard turns of phrase that suggest womanhood/femininity has a negative connotation? Ever been told you do something "like a girl" in that condescending tone? Ever heard a friend stress that their little boy plays with dolls/paints his nails/likes dresses? Ever wonder why the worst thing you can call a guy is a "p*ssy" and the worst thing you can call a girl is a "c*nt"?

Everybody go read this on Feministing.com.

This is a link on how a bunch of Kurd men dressed in women's clothing and accompanied their photos with messages of pride and respect for women. When I first heard about this, I just smiled a lot - I found it lovely and heartwarming and something to be very happy about. I'm still happy about it and I would love to thank these fellas myself. However, now, I'm really sitting down to think about what they're really addressing.

Why the ever-loving hell is it, the world over, somehow shameful to be feminine? Why is it a cardinal sin to be like a woman? Why is it, in some cases, a capital offense to BE a woman?

Then I thought about my friends who crossplay. I thought, first, about my friend Y. [Name redacted] I have known Y. for years through our mutual convention-going habit. For the first many, many times I saw Y., I did not know Y's born gender. I didn't care, frankly - that's just my friend Y. and that's all there is to it. What was under Y's dresses had absolutely no bearing on Y. being my friend! Y's cosplays were fantastic! Showed a great deal of skill and dedication to the cosplay habit! It wasn't until I was at a convention with my now-ex-boyfriend that I heard comments. The comments my thankfully-now-ex made were homophobic, transphobic, and misogynistic. I'm not repeating them hear, because no one I know needs MORE reason to go whomp that guy.

I have another acquaintance - I'll call this one E. I happen to know that E. is biologically female. For as long as I have known E. she has cosplayed male characters. She and I are not close enough for me to know if she has ever received criticism for cosplaying male characters. From other biological females I know who cosplay males, I haven't heard of much flack of that nature. Heck, since most anime men are designed with the intent of satisfying a female audience, they're PRETTY! There are many characters that look equally good when portrayed in flesh by males or females. Correct me if I'm wrong, but there is much less stigma on F2M cosplay than M2F.

It's not just my friend Y. that I have heard catch a hard time. Men who crossplay as women are often assumed to be gay, and the assumption is made with a negative connotation. You know what? I'm not okay with that. I'm female. I think it's pretty awesome. Clothes marketed/designed for biological females are fun! Skirts and dresses are comfy and come in all kinds of pretty colors! I'm perfectly fine with anyone who wants to wear them doing just that!

Cosplay is about way more than clothes, though. Cosplay, for many, many of us is about the characters. You watch a series and, more often than not, the character you want to cosplay is one who SPEAKS to you. For example, I cosplay Tomo Takino from Azumanga Daioh - I have since I was eighteen years old! When I watched that series, I (and most of my friends) immediately saw an overwhelming similarity to my sixteen-year-old self in the character. Tomo is biologically female, like me. In Rurouni Kenshin, the character of Misao Makimachi spoke to me almost more than any other character has ever done. I've cosplayed her since I was sixteen! But imagine if Kenshin had been the one... And imagine if Misao had spoken to Y.

Why would it be okay for me to cosplay Kenshin but not okay for Y. to cosplay Misao?

Oh right... Because in this world, the worst thing you can possibly be is a woman. I'm really fucking offended by that, just so everybody knows. I hate it that you call a guy weak by calling him a "p*ssy." I hate it just as much that you say a girl has a bad personality by calling her a "c*nt." Both of those imply that lady-parts are something bad. FUCK THAT!

I'm just one cosplayer, one blogger, and one feminist, but here is my affirmation to you:

COSPLAY WHOEVER YOU WANT.

It doesn't matter if you look like them in body type, race, or secondary sex characteristics. Make that costume. Commission or buy bits if you need to! WEAR that cosplay! LOVE that character! Go all the way to replicate their personality!

NO ONE HAS THE RIGHT TO GIVE YOU SHIT ABOUT IT.

If they do, call them out on their bullshit. If you're a guy cosplaying a girl and someone gives you shit, call them out. Tell them that their comments are bigoted. If you're a girl cosplaying a guy and someone says something, you tell them they're full of shit! Tell them you don't appreciate them bringing their crap into a safe space! I'm not going to tell you don't let them affect you. It's okay if something hurts. That's called being human - we have feelings and they get hurt when people are mean to us. TELL people that their comments are hurtful. You've got the right not to be harassed.

Think about these Kurd men. If they can do what they did, where they are, what business do we have using femininity to shame? I'm not ashamed to be a woman. I'm not ashamed to have feminine traits, nor am I ashamed to have masculine characteristics. Polarization and emphasis of differences, to me, are not constructive or productive. Let's look more at what makes us PEOPLE. Yes, there are differences, but I keep saying, instead of assigning value judgments, let's celebrate!

Marigold, psyched for the Georgia Renaissance Festival this weekend, wishing you love!

Seeing as I am also a critter person...

I suggest you all read THIS.

I know I keep telling you to go read things or watch things. It's good for you - keeps your brain active. I'll be patient while you read. Go on! I'll just go walk Stitch and be right back!

Now, okay... If someone hurt one of my animals... Once I got through killing them, resurrecting them, and killing them again, everyone would be calling for their heads on pikes. And this is as it should be. We live in an age that people recognize that animal cruelty is not okay. There are movements to make animal cruelty a felony in many states. Whether it's organizations or individual pieces like the little angel who rescued Jackson the cat, people work to save animals. Never once do they ask what the animal did to "deserve" what happened. Nor do they ask how it could possibly, in any way, shape, or form, be the animal's fault.

You know, I'd really like that same consideration if something happened to me. Not sure if I've made this clear enough, but I happen to be female. And I'm totally okay with that - to tell you the plain truth, I like it! I've got long hair to play with and, let's face it, fashion is always kinder to ladies than it is to gentlemen, aesthetically speaking. Case in point, and in light of my recent participation in a theater appreciation group project, I give you American fashion in the 1960s. MUCH kinder to the ladies - most of that stuff looks tolerable even today. What I don't like about being female is that, no matter what happens to me, it is on ME to prove how it wasn't my fault.

I am all for the bit in the Constitution of the United States that gives people the right to a fair trial and all that - we really need that. But I was unaware that "innocent until proven guilty" somehow translated to "guilty until proven innocent" when the situation involves violence against women... In theory, if something happens to me, not only do I have to prove that I was the victim of violence, but I have to prove I didn't deserve it! To me, that sounds... well, fucked up. If a man is threatened with violence and he gives up his wallet, he did what he was supposed to do. No one would say to him "Well, didn't you know better than to have that much cash on your person?" or "Well, why would you dress to suggest that you had money?"

Go and read a little bit of that article again.

Are you scared yet? If you are female, are you getting it through your head that your pet is more likely to get a conviction if it is a victim of violence than you are? I'm not even going to do the whole "This could be your mother/sister/girlfriend/what-have-you" thing. No, because men need to get it through their heads that women are more than "their" anybody! Guys, look around. There's fully half the population who probably couldn't get their attacker convicted because of their gender. Now look at your pet. I'm not saying people who abuse animals should be given any leeway at all - far from it. I'm just saying it's a little twisted that they're more likely to convict the same man of beating his dog than they are of beating his wife or girlfriend.

I don't normally do the whole "This - be outraged about this!" thing. However, looking at Stitch on the couch next to me got me to thinking. If someone hurt him, I would see them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. If that wasn't good enough, I'd be assembling a posse. The only "justified" cause for hurting an animal is if it's harming someone, and most people get that. However, people seem awfully confused on when it's "justified" to act violently against a woman. You know what? I'm going with the same thing as before. It is only "justified" to use violence against another person if they are doing you bodily harm. Not their clothes, their state of intoxication, their refusal to date you, their refusal to consent to sex within a relationship or out of it... ONLY if someone is doing you bodily harm may you act with violence.

Can we just go with that?

Marigold, retreating to her couch fort, bidding everyone a decent Tuesday!

Miss Representation - my thoughts

He everybody! My sister, best friend, and fellow blogger posted this video, "Miss Representation," on Tumblr a little while back. I apologize again for taking so long, but with the extended illness, it couldn't be helped. I've got several lovely commentaries for y'all stored up in my backlog, but with the end of the semester and trying to play catchy-uppy, I've got to prioritize. Right now, this is what I can't stop thinking about.

Please watch the video. Please! Really, I can wait - I'm patient! I'll just sit here and eat my delicious ginger-sriracha soba with pan-seared squash and portobello mushrooms. Cool? Okay, I'm just gonna wait while you watch.

Watched it? Good! Now, okay, I have a few things to say on this. One, this short video is just the trailer for a whole film. If someone could direct me to where I might watch the full extent of the film, I would be most grateful. Two, this should be required viewing for all human beings in a media-driven society. There are definitely things I agree with, like the media being "gatekeepers" of the status quo, control of information, and a lot of people's distorted self-worth. Three, there are some things that, as a feminist, I disagree with.

I realize these women - good, intelligent, remarkable women - are feminists too. I respect them greatly. In my Media and Society class last semester, the incomparable Dr. Stone had us watch "Killing Us Softly." I encourage everyone to watch that as well - it gives people of every gender so much to sit down and think about. However, the overwhelming message of "Miss Representation" and "Killing Us Softly" is one that I disagree with. The message reads (in my opinion, feel free to RESPECTFULLY disagree) that any sexual portrayal of women is automatically bad. Sexual portrayals of women are, without exception, unilaterally demeaning and objectifying.

As an aspiring pin-up model and burlesque performer, I absolutely must disagree with this on principle. PART of women's power and personhood is sexuality. This is something I disagree with an entire "wing" of feminism on, and I believe it contributes to many misconceptions about feminism. One of these misconceptions is that feminists hate sex and sexuality and want all women everywhere to become asexual so that men can't get laid. I'm sounding the bullshit alarm LOUD AND CLEAR here - I dunno about any of you, but here's one feminist who does NOT hate sex! It's just as bad as the "Oh, they just want an excuse to go have free sex." I'm not even COMMENTING on that crap. I believe it is divisive and unproductive, this first misconception.

1. It, like so many other things, superimposes a removal of choice from the individual woman about her sexuality. She must follow someone ELSE'S definition of "how to do it right" instead of thinking, considering, and making her own choices for her own body and sexuality. 
2. It becomes a "made" problem. While we're busy fussing and fuming and fighting about who's "doing it right" and who's not, we're not making ACTUAL PROGRESS. Chew on that for a second, and how much it benefits the patriarchy.

I am NOT knocking "Miss Representation" or "Killing Us Softly." I think the messages are profound and powerful and they need to be heard. I just think they are not the be-all and end-all of what feminism is. It is always, always, always so important to question ideologies and see how they fit with what YOU want out of life. If something doesn't sit right with you, speak up! That's what I'm doing. I am very impressed by these women and I adore them for what they do. I am also open to the possibility that I may have misinterpreted the message. The bottom line, though, that I got from all this is that media portrayal of women in any sexual context is a bad thing. I know that there are bad portrayals - you'll be hearing about them a lot on here! I do not think, however, that all portrayals can be painted with the same "wrong and bad" brush.

To me, pin-up, burlesque, and the convention scene are all very positive outlets for female sexy-ness and body positivity. I think of these places as safe spaces for women to express themselves in a powerful, wonderful way. I think a lot of women feel the same way. It really does rub me the wrong way to imply that any sexual portrayal of a woman is a bad thing. To me, it smacks of "Poor Widdle Deluded Girl Syndrome" - the mentality of "ANYONE knows what is best for a particular woman better than that woman herself." I dunno about you, but I know ME and I am the only one who can know ME better than anyone else on the planet. To tell me how I should feel about the portrayal of my body is presumptuous and rude. Let me decide for myself how I feel about a particular portrayal, cos sure as hell you're going to hear about it!

Marigold, hoping this lovely soba stays down, and giving everyone a high-five today!

Illness

Hello, everybody! I know I said last time there would be no more unannounced hiatuses. Well, I'm really sorry... I said that before I ran afoul of the local creeping crud or something like it. I got a very definite diagnosis of "It MIGHT be a virus." Long story short, I had a somewhat extended illness. Might as well blog that, right? Yep... Get this recorded for posterity. I shall now advise those who are squeamish to skip this entry and wait for the next one. And away we go - breakdown by day...

Thursday, April 4th: Wake up feeling like something is very, very "off" - can't put my finger on it. I've experienced gastric distress of varying degree before, so I just go "Well, dammit..." and don't think much of it. Now, at my current university, I have never had to leave a rehearsal to throw up before. So, imagine my chagrin and flat-out annoyance when, in the middle of dress rehearsal at the darn church, I have to stumble down from the risers and flee for the ladies' room. Yep, ramen in reverse is never, ever a pretty thing. Disgusted, I go back to rehearsal and just mouth the words, fully intending to pass out and sleep it off when I get home. Sound good? That's usually how it works.

Side note: I don't really remember how this happened, but sometime Thursday night, in between bouts of puking my guts out, I fainted in the bathroom. The shower was apparently the closest place to fall, so fall I did. My legs are just now not black and blue. Came to with Stitch's great big cold nose on me. Dang smart dog!

Friday, April 5th: Wake up with the phrase "Look what the cat dragged in, killed, and then shredded" applying very specifically to me. By this point, I'm aware that something is very much not right, but in no way am I ready to admit this to the general public. I grump, stumble, and zone out through the rest of my day. Fast forward to after my geography class, round 1:10... My friend Josh (more about him in a bit...) and I meet up for Starbucks. [Funny side story: his drink basically attacked me. One, gotta thank my best friend James for that old pair of jeans! Guy jeans are thick as hell, so no harm done from the rogue cappuccino. And I got a decent laugh out of it, which I sorely needed.] Josh says something about me looking unwell, but I insist that I'm perfectly fine. I turn down his offer to accompany me to the health center and swear up and down that I'll be fine.

I have never had a minute's issue with Starbucks hot chocolate. Given that, I was extremely unhappy when said hot chocolate escaped in reverse when I had been home no more than ten minutes. By this point, I have not eaten in over 24 hours and I don't intend on changing that. This has happened before and I've learned the best thing to do is wait it out. I figure on trying to keep water down and doing just that. I take it easy the rest of the day and go to bed rather early.

Saturday, April 6th: I wake up at some ungodly hour with my digestive system trying to turn itself inside out. I am no longer capable of holding down fluids. Exhibiting what I think is common sense, I go back to bed for a while. Even Stitch is looking at me like "Mama, you look like rot." Seriously, when your dog looks at you like that... I dunno what time it is, but the sun is definitely UP when I call Josh and tell him that I'm admitting to being exceptionally stupid and need to get seen about. I seriously cannot possibly thank him enough for turning up to take me to the immediate care center.

We get there and I am seriously not sure how the hell I did all the paperwork. I barely remember doing any of it, except that my hands were shaking really badly for all of it. I get called back and Josh goes with me. By this point, I'm familiar enough with this type of illness to know what's coming. Since I was sixteen, I intermittently get this weird gastric malfunction where I throw up for three or four days (because I'm too stubborn to get seen about) and wind up on IVs. This is where I mention needles are among the only things I actually fear. No, it's not rational, but I really don't care. It scares me and that is that. Knowing it's coming just makes it worse. After the preliminary little Q&A session with the nurse, we get sat in an exam room and it's basically just "wait for it."

Yep, you guessed it: IV fluids. They give me a liter of fluids and a shot of Zofran, to make the nausea go away. Just so you know (this comes back up), that didn't work. I basically freak out through the whole IV process, but kinda sorta stayed conscious. Leave with a prescription for more Zofran, this in pill form.

Josh brings me (and Stitch so he's not at the apartment by himself) over to his place and I pass out for... a while. I slept through the pharmacy being open, so I didn't have any anti-nausea anything. By the time I'm awake... I think around 5:30 or something like that, I'm dry-heaving. There's nothing left to come up and dry-heaving is incredibly uncomfortable. Josh comes in with his girlfriend Kendall and Kendall's getting ready to go to prom with somebody. I get out of bed long enough to get her fixed up with some shoes and stockings and a jacket. I'm shaky and having issues walking around, but I'm still having a problem admitting that I'm not fine. Kendall gets picked up by her prom date and Josh and I go back inside - still at his place, because I really don't think he trusts me to take care of myself...

Night of throwing up and dry-heaving commences - digestive system on the warpath and water is once again not staying down.

Sunday, April 7th: I have no idea what time it is when I register as "awake." Night has been spent rather horribly, pretty much no sleep had. For some reason, I'm in better spirits though. Still at Josh's place. Spend the day with him and Kendall. I nap on and off for most of it. I think I start to get up and move about 4. We go on a gas-station run and I get myself a Sprite. That's what my mom always used to give me when I was sick as a kid. At first, this seems like a great idea. I get about a quarter of the bottle down. Unfortunately, in not too long, two bad things happen. One, I throw up about half of that. Two, my lower GI decides it wants in on the fun. Don't worry, sparing you details. I'm worried, but determined to make sure it's nothing. I get to about half the Sprite... about half of THAT comes up. About 7:30, Josh and Kendall are taking me to the ER.

We're in the waiting room about... I'm gonna guess thirty minutes - I suck at judging the passage of time and I was not really "with it" at this point. My lower GI is on the warpath by this time. Paperwork gets done and they call me back. Okay, if you haven't figured out by now, I'm an incredibly stubborn individual. After I hopped on the scale and off again, I nearly pitched right on over and the nurse pulls up a wheelchair. I'm going "No, no, I'm just dizzy, I swear!" Well, I get wheeled back, mortified and grumbling. MORE mortification - I have to shuck out of my leather jacket and shirt and wear one of those awful hospital gowns. This discomfort is off-set by the load of pre-warmed blankets that the nurse and Kendall get me all tucked into. I've got my bear with me, so that makes everything semi more okay.

The nurse comes back with a load of plastic tubing that's just gut-turning to look at. I point out to the nurse that I've already been punctured in my left arm, indicating the still-fresh poke site. She says we'll just do the right one, then. Okay, still terrifying, but that sounds easy enough. Kendall and Josh are holding onto me, I'm hiding my face in my bear's head, and the nurse starts trying to stick me. This is when possibly the only amusing thing that has ever happened to me in an ER ever, happened. Kendall suggests singing Les Mis. I'm not even really sure how the hell that came up in conversation, but it did. I start launching into - if I may say so of myself - a rather wrenching rendition of "On My Own" from Les Mis. Frankly, I think I make a damn good Eponine when I'm legitimately terrified and in pain. Your real friends are the ones who will do THIS KIND OF SHIT for you.

By the way, that first needle-stick didn't take. She stuck me twice in my right arm and just couldn't get a vein. So she stuck my left forearm. Forearm sticks are particularly nasty because of all the muscle there. You twitch one finger and the needle moves in your arm! Yeah, just really hideous business there. I get a shot of Zofran, this time administered intravenously. They stick my finger as well to take my blood sugar. My blood sugar is 50. Just so you know, you're not supposed to be CONSCIOUS with a blood sugar of 50. I'm just saying. So, the nurse tells Josh (who is in nursing school himself) to come get her when the first liter is through draining.

Waiting game. Honestly, I'm not going to bore you with the details of being in an ER room, waiting for one liter, then another to drain into my arm. Partially, y'all don't want to hear it, and you know what? I don't remember some of it! Mostly, I remember being really cold. Kendall went and got me another of those awesome pre-warmed blankets and has my forever gratitude for this. Well, the second liter went in just like it was supposed to. They gave me another Zofran shot through the port in my arm and stuck my finger again. This time, blood sugar of 90. That's a bit low still, but it's better. At about 4:30, I think, they take the port/IV thing out of my arm and I can put my shirt and jacket back on.

Final note? HOLY SHIT, I HAVE TERRIFIC FRIENDS. This is going to be one of those stories that goes down in the Marigold Archives. That's what I'm going to call it from now on, that collection of wacky and wonderful stories about me and all my friends! If you happen to be around me, you can hear all these stories yourself! Maybe a few of them will make it up here!

Marigold, still on anti-nausea pills, wishing everyone a happy Thursday!