Happy Pride!
June 12, 2011
Pride month always provides a bevy of news about progress (or lack there of) in the gay community. This pride month is no different. Tracy Morgan decided to go on a homophobic rant in one of his routines, leading the whistleblower of his show to come out to his family. New surveys show that a majority of the American population now support gay marriage. Croatia’s pride celebration ended in disaster, the Giant’s started MLB teams on making videos for the It Gets Better Project, and Rick Santorum claims that he loves his gay friends. I don’t believe he has any, but he loves them hypothetically.
Pride month isn’t even half way over and we already have a plethora of news items to discuss. For me, none has been as irritating as Ann Coulter. Now, generally, I just ignore what she who must not be named says. She’s one of those rare creatures who is incredibly easy to ignore because everything that comes out of her mouth is complete shit. Piers Morgan asked Coulter on Tuesday “If you had a son or daughter who came to you and told you they were gay, how would you feel?” She repeatedly dodged the question, blabbering something about not imagining being married (despite her three engagements) and how getting married was the first step towards having a baby. Fast forward three days and she finally tells Sean Hannity how she would feel:
“I mean, obviously, I’d tell him he’s adopted…How’s asking him for help redecorating the dining room?”
Now, there is nothing in this statement like Tracy Morgan saying he would stab his son for being gay, or equating gay marriage to sex with ducks (thank you Pat Robertson). But Coulter spreads not only hatred for the gay community, but for those families who turn to adoption to create a family. The slight about the gay community being great decorators- not harmless, but expected from a person who thinks women shouldn’t have the right to vote. But adoption, Coulter? Really? Thousands of children around the world need good, loving homes. People who adopt love their children, no matter who they are. Families choose adoption for a number of reasons, but the common theme between them is the desire to raise a child. It’s a choice people make, not a random occurrence.
Thank you, Ann Coulter for being a bigot during pride month. It reminds us all how far we still have to go and who we are fighting against for equality. Pride month is a celebration of being who you are, but also remembering what lengths it takes to be able to be that person. It’s not a short or easy road, but things are moving forward- despite the efforts of the small-minded and hateful.
Soccer Mom Wanna-be?
February 8, 2010
For personnel in higher education there has been a recent phenomenon of young undergrad females not going on to their freshman or senior dreams, first marketing cubicle job, grad school or relying, as so many, on moving back with Mom and Dad ’til things get better employment wise. Looks like Dad’s rumpus or Mother’s reading room are safe for now.
What has been noticed by career and behavioral counselors is a spike in young ladies choosing to seek a mate immediately and pop out kids. Ergo, going for the soccer mom ASAP. Some have suggested this new trend has to do with the war mother demographic…higher numbers in the military have always equaled more war brides. I am sure a fifteen year high in teenage pregnancies also has a factor. But, mostly as a higher ed type myself…it is the economy stupid.
The unknown, fear of jobless years, no 401K, health care either coming or going…and general lack of confidence in hope…well it might just be natural to think domestic engineering as a good fall back. Hell, I am all for good mothers for our kids. Wish we had more. But, I also never wish to see young coed grads dissing themselves and the world of opportunities before them.
Do they want to be a fictional character? Finding that being a real “soccer mom” is about as easy as finding Elvis picking up Bigfoot hitchhikers in his UFO. It just ain’t gonna happen! The term soccer mom started in the mid 1990’s with more and more women entering the workforce and trying to subsequently balance professional and maternal responsibilities.
When added to the growing generation of spoiled brats, the myth was born of a super, well kept, organized, PTA attending, check, credit card balancing, relying off the man and da Man, mother of 2.5 kids…that at the end of the day became an exhausted, frazzled, short on time and dinner on the go…go-go girl. She could do everything! At least on car commercials.
So if you do want to be such…here is what you will need!
1. SUV, wagon, or minivan. A sedan can work in a pinch, but only a Volvo or Audi. Sorry those are the rules.
2. Have a child involved in some sport that requires a great amount of equipment, red fruit drink and mud. Oh, and the kid has to be allergic to red dye #5. Sends him or her into a bi-polar fit.
3. Before you say “I do” realize it is just a starter marriage.
4. Wear skinny jeans only your imaginary daughter and waistline should put on.
5. Own at least one Rachel Ray cookbook.
6. Have at least one toddler with a sippy cup to spill.
7. Member of or aspiring membership to the Junior League.
8. Perfect hair.
9. Give up…at least for the next 15 years…all of your professional dreams.
10. A renewal of childhood affections with Happy Meals.
11. Platinum band with tri-set diamond engagement ring. Total karat weight at least 1.5.
12. Have a complete hysterectomy, be menopausal or have your period stop altogether.
13. Be thin.
14. Always stay thin.
15. Chase after the dreams of your other college friends.
16. Lovely blue dress suit or business casual pants suit…you never wear.
17. Be the designated driver for the rest of your life.
18. Use the pregnancy parking spaces way after you had the babies…probably until they are six or older.
19. Kids born potty trained.
20. Abstain from sex ever again…that is how you got into the kid situation.
21. Have AAA or a need to join AA.
22. Get a dog – preferably a Lab, Golden retriever or Saint Bernard. This is a good thing for the image, but not so much for the pooch that will need more walks than you have time for.
23. Be the neighborhood mini-bus for all your kids’ play friends.
24. Live a lie and keep up with the Jones.
25. Your FaceBook page will need to be purged of just about every photo you ever put up.
In other words…you might be asking for the impossible for yourself, your family, your world. You might want to think of it this way…be careful for what you wish for. Just be you and the quarter life wonder of a hip-heroine you already are.
Yes, there are worries about the economic times ahead. Jobs, money, insurance, (a 20’s kid realistically worrying about retirement), student loan payments, careers, pushing out 7 lbs. of human into a scary world….yep…lots to think about. But, no need to jump to conclusions or rash decisions. You went to college, or you put in your time for a career…and exploration of careers…a journey to find out who you are and what this big bad, awesome world is all about.
Just say no to the soccer ball…at least for now. When you do want to put a soccer ball sized bulge in your tummy area…Bend it like Beckham.
Quarter-life Crisis?
June 17, 2008
Guest Written by: Lindsay Love
So I just turned 27, at least a quarter of my life is now behind me. The sun has set on my childhood, my formative years, and sadly, my opportunity to use youthful naivety as an excuse for my follies and shortcomings. Am I experiencing an existential dilemma? Am I staring wide-eyed at a crossroads in my life’s journey? Well… no, I don’t think so, but I will let you know for sure as soon as I find some time to think about it. Right now, I am too busy finishing my Bachelor’s degree, working full-time, and most importantly, raising a 5-year-old little girl.
Zen Beer-ism
June 13, 2008
Sometimes inspiration comes when you least expect it. For example, last weekend I was at an Irish pub in upstate New York. The waitress had just brought an order of hot wings and another tall, frothy, cold beer. It was a dark amber ale with a good head and great body. Clear. Smooth. Rich. It was hypnotic, and I fell into its trance. The tiny bubbles floated to the top, each one like a little planet racing into outer space. Before long I was floating in the beer. I was swimming around the planets, giddy like a kid on Christmas morning. Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. But inspiration nonetheless struck, and my great realization came: beer is a metaphor for life.
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