Wiggling my toes September 13, 2011

A few more things. First, my friend and I have created a support group of two; we are each other’s lab partners for life work. We’re working on achieving our goals and holding each other accountable. To that end, we’ve been doing a lot of journaling and reflecting about ourselves and each other in order to form solid plans, gain insight, and grow. I wrote the following short piece as an investigation into my own mind, but I think it’s good enough to share.

Second, I sometimes struggle with the idea that people I am not crazy about reading my blog are, well, reading it. Sometimes picking it apart. We’re talking crazy exes and stalky bar patrons, for starters. This can cause me to edit my thoughts or, more often, to censor myself altogether because the potential repercussions of putting my uncensored opinion into the public sphere are sometimes exhausting to consider. Well, I decided that’s horseshit. My best writing is the writing I don’t apologize for, and I’m sure as hell not apologizing to you, my solitary internet reader. On that note, the prompt:

What is it about the movie “Kill Bill” that I find so inspiring? Why does it motivate me? What lessons, mantras, or positive habits can I take away from the film?

In my quest to develop internal motivation and mental structure, I frequently channel Beatrix Kiddo. There is an index card pinned to my bulletin board, directly in my line of sight when I’m sitting at my desk, that simply reads “wiggle your big toe.” On its surface, this quote is a distillation of the maxim “the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” It is a reminder to me that I must take my projects one day at a time, that all accomplishing my ambitions really requires is a series of small and manageable moves. One toe wiggle at a time.

Beyond that, however, I do have a borderline-unhealthy fascination with Kill Bill. I would say that Beatrix Kiddo is one of my literary/cinematic heroes. Obviously this is because she is a total bad ass. But what attributes make her so bad ass that I find her to be inspiring? It’s not that she jumps motorcycles or is a samurai (though that’s pretty kick ass too). A list:

1) She has a plan.  Beatrix Kiddo wakes up from that coma and she has a goal: Kill Bill. On the plane to Okinawa, however, she develops a plan. She’s going to need a Hanzo sword. She’s going to have to kill a lot of people to get through to Bill. So what does Beatrix do? She makes a death list, gets Hanzo to forge her a sword, and finds her enemies. Beatrix has a plan. This is a common “quest” structure to a kung fu movie, but it’s inspiring to me as a person who struggles with breaking down one major goal into a series of small, and sometimes daunting, tasks. First, get a plan.

2) Unflinching resolve.  In Okinawa, Beatrix finds and confronts her first enemy– O-ren Ishi’i. O-ren, knowing that Beatrix is a formidable fighter and is extremely pissed off, sends a team of bodyguards, then a team of assassins, then a personal fighter to weaken Beatrix. After the initial onslaught of bodyguards has been decimated, O-ren says to Beatrix: “You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?” To which Beatrix replies: “You know something? For a minute there, yeah. I kinda did.”

I have said this before. But I have also been afraid of finishing or failing at my task, and have quit. What does Beatrix do? She sighs, lifts her sword, and continues kicking ass. By the time she gets O-ren alone in the yard her strength is completely sapped. But she doesn’t give in: She tells O-ren: “Come at me with everything you have.”  And you know what Beatrix does? Scalps her. That’s resolve.

When Beatrix is alone in the desert at Budd’s trailer, after snatching out the other eye of her nemesis the California Mountain Snake, she doesn’t get distracted by the million dollars of cash on the trailer floor, the ‘72 Firebird out front, or the priceless Hanzo sword sticking out of Budd’s golf bag. She has a mission here, and she doesn’t get distracted. That lack of distraction also inspires me. Beatrix really, really wants Bill. Not a sportscar, money, toys, or revenge on incidental others. She is focused on her end goal. Not even being buried alive gets the best of Beatrix Kiddo.

3) Commitment to her craft.  Beatrix is an elite fighter, but she is also a member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. She is one of several similarly trained elite fighters. Beatrix knows that if she is going to succeed in her quest, she needs to be the best– better than anyone else she encounters– at kicking ass. Even while crossing off her list, she continues to mentally and physically prepare for battle. While her Hanzo sword is being forged, she trains. While she is sitting on the airplane, she’s scheming. Anytime she interacts with someone potentially useful, she turns the interaction to her advantage. She is only able to even find Bill because of her ninja skill of always being open to and aware of additional information that may change her situation.

So what if Bill shoots her in the leg with some kind of truth serum after ambushing her with the fact that her daughter is still alive, and sleeping in the next room? He’s still going to fight back and she still has got to get ready. Boom. Five-point palm exploding heart technique. Why does she know that technique? Because she studied and worked under her teacher until he taught her something extra, an advantage he gave nobody else. Her commitment paid off. And that additional training saved her ass and, ultimately, allowed her to achieve her goal. When she learned the technique, she had no idea how she would use it. But she did know it was in her interest to acquire as much expertise as possible.

Of course, the film also has a happy ending. Beatrix finishes her project; she has her revenge. It turns out that she has her daughter, too– an impossibly happy turn of events that she was not striving for, but for which she is immensely grateful. This warms my heart. I like the idea that someday, I might achieve a goal and the payoff would be even bigger than I had imagined. That the prize might not just be crossing off my list, but winning something greater that I can appreciate all the more for the struggle it took to get there.

So yes, it is a little ridiculous that I sometimes consider getting a little tattoo that reads “wiggle your big toe” on the side of my foot. Hopefully, nobody is going to shoot me in the head and snatch up my kid. But the inspiration I get from Beatrix Kiddo remains: Break that shit down into some projects you can actually handle. Don’t flake out halfway through because you’re getting your ass kicked and it hurts. Decide you’re going to not only complete your task, but absolutely crush at what you’re doing– otherwise, why bother?

Why GM has to fail (and the sooner the better) April 15, 2009

There are plenty of blogs out there with this headline, or something similar, tacked on top. Most of them commence with dissections of General Motors’ bloated budget, taking side bets on bankruptcy proceedings, or blasting the Americans who bought GM’s giant cars as the real scapegoats. GM is in the news a lot lately– after all, they just had the auto show in Detroit a few months ago, and there’s that pesky extended bailout keeping them in the headlines.

Despite all this media attention, I have yet to read these words: “Wow. These guys are completely out of touch with reality, and they have terrible ideas.” So let me illuminate for you what the geniuses over at General Motors are using your tax dollars for.

At the North American International Auto Show in January,General Motors had a sweet trick up the sleeve of their collective lab coat– a state-of-the-art solution to the drag caused by sideview mirrors. Those little glass discs mounted on your I-beams are costing you fuel and slowing you down! The solution? Replace them with tiny cameras, mounted on the sides of the vehicle. These cameras will transmit a real-time image of what’s going on behind your car straight to little screens on your dash.

In one stroke of design genius, Ed Welburn– GM’s VP of global design– has taken a feature that is difficult to break barring a physical accident, is more or less essential to safe vehicle operation, and (most importantly) works simply, and has actually spent time and money developing a replacement for said feature that is unreliable, potentially buggy, and unnecessarily complicated. And need I even point out that the screens, wiring, and hardware for this little gadget probably clock in over 100 lbs? Plus, it’ll require energy, generated from your gas-powered engine, to operate. I’d imagine that gain in fuel efficiency is negated by the added weight and energy drain of these little gems.

This is before I even ask: Seriously? This is the company that builds the H2, and this is their approach to improving fuel economy? Tiny cameras? You make cars that get 8 miles to the gallon and you want to talk about fuel economy? Really?

Let’s give them some credit though– GM is thinking outside the box. They’re “collaborating” and coming up with radical new solutions to existing problems! That’s what Toyota does– GM can come up with new ideas, too! Like the PUMA! (That’s Personal Urban Mobility & Accessibility unit to you.) Check it out: Partnering with the increasingly obsolete Segway company, they’ve figured out a way to build a small, two-wheeled gadget capable of carrying people and a few parcels around town! According to NPR, they’re hoping that municipalities will designate smaller lanes next to major roads just for these innovative little gadgets. Genius!

Portland, Oregon, I can see you rolling your eyes. It’s called a bicycle– you have them all over. Look, it’s a nice little idea in some ways. But once again, completely out of touch with reality. It looks like a less-functional, more-dangerous version of the SmartCar– and it would require municipalities to dramatically change how they manage traffic instead of working within the existing frame.

All this amounts to reinventing the wheel, over and over again, but making it square. It’s like trying to bail out a sinking cruise ship with a Dixie cup. General Motors, please go the way of the dinosaurs (except don’t, for the love of all that is sacred, do anything remotely linked to oil…). They’ve gotta go before they have another chance to think or build things.

When I think of it, my fingers turn to fists January 29, 2009

A week full of reading blogs coded with misogyny and meetings with hiring managers who think it’s acceptable to call and ask for a date after my interview has boiled my brain down to one gluey question: What does it take for me to be taken seriously, both as a woman in general and as myself in particular? Yes, my self is a woman; however, every little bit of nastiness and disrespect towards women that I read has been getting under my skin as of late, and said irritation is both on my own behalf and on behalf of women as a group. I think all that disrespect has an aggregate effect on how I’m presented and interpreted, and it’s not a pretty result.

Is the answer to file harassment complaints against said flirty manager-types? Not likely to have an effect. Wearing a terrible haircut, no makeup, and ill-fitting clothes to an interview? It’s not like I’m going in there with my breasts squeezed together and my hair tousled. Stay quiet, and you’re stuck reflecting the notion that all is well in the world of women’s issues and that equal pay and sexist jokes are dead issues; speak up and you’re labeled as a bitchy militant feminist who seeks refuge in her blog, where she rails against reality and verbalizes her bitterness.

Well, guess what– I am a feminist, and that doesn’t make me militant or bitchy. I cannot overstate how much work there is to be done on behalf of women in the workplace, in medical care, and in the social sphere (just to name a few areas). The thing that set me off today, as opposed to yesterday or the day before, was actually a Facebook interaction. Yes, it’s a social networking site where people post unfiltered thoughts and comments. The Posted Items and Notes features, however, have become increasingly bloggish, with many users even cross-posting from their Delicious and WordPress accounts. So I feel like it’s fair to demand a certain level of accountability from posters.

The blog/note that kicked things off today started off like a joke. It was a rant against the burgeoning culture of mandatory tipping in the service economy, but bubbling to the surface were nasty little bits of contempt against women. Interspersed were gems such as “I know better now. Take your cute little laugh and pathetic attempt to wink and [sic] you’re ‘what can I get for you, dollface?’ little voice and go practice taking caps of bottles. You’re not good enough at it yet to impress me.”

Awkward? For me, the phrasing there crosses that slim line between highlighting the game of the sexes that female bartenders play along with to get ahead and enters the territory of subjugation and misogyny. It has an unmistakable tone of, “I can’t have you, so fuck you; you’re a whore for making me want you.” Once again, can’t have a woman = not her fault. It’s that kind of rape justification logic that suffuses all other discourse about women. She was asking for it, she wanted it, she started it… so it’s her fault. Humorous intent isn’t a good enough reason to circulate content like that.

In retrospect, it could have been any post that set me off; this one just happened to do the trick. It is no longer acceptable to hide misogyny behind a character or comic voice; these images circulate in the collective minds of everyone who reads them and have a cumulative effect on our perception of women. No matter how innocuous the writer claims his intentions were, talking about women with that kind of bitterness and hate is disrespectful and reduces us, among other things, to sex objects and second-class citizens. It is no less serious than this.

Of course, my ire was already stoked by the text message I received the previous evening– from a private cellphone– saying that it was “OK that I didn’t want the job” and we could “still be friends LOL… let me know when you can hang out.” After staring at my phone, open-mouthed, I realized it was from a hiring manager who’d interviewed me the previous week. This on the heels of having to– repeatedly– explain to the big boss at my last place of employment what my policy on inter-office dating would be, should the opportunity present itself. Which was directly preceded by no fewer than three colleagues feeling the need to “confess” to crushes on me. It’s not that I’m excessively desirable or flirtatious; somewhere along the way, the message didn’t get across to these boys that the workplace is not a fertile ground for getting a date.

I don’t bring my sneaky, evil feminine wiles into the workplace; I don’t wink to get the copier fixed; I don’t sidle up to my interview subjects to get them to open up on the record; I didn’t wear a tight skirt to get my edits to newspaper articles approved. Hell, I never even did the pop-and-wink when I bartended– I was objectified enough while captive behind that bar without a push-up bra and mascara.

I thought integrity was what it took to be taken seriously. In September I thought that the dichotomy of ballbreaker vs. ingenue had been shattered by Condoleezza Rice and Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi and Angelina Jolie– women who are neither the angel in the house nor the tough guy, but are women recognized for having talents in their own right. They might be tough– and that toughness even appears novel to some people who, apparently, have never met a working mother– but nobody’s asking them to give up their femininity. I wish I knew how they did it.

Dear Barack Obama: Where’s my job? December 7, 2008

So this is appropriate… President-elect Obama’s speechwriters can party hard and that’s fine. But please explain to me how someone so inarticulate that they have to grope a cardboard cutout of Senator Clinton instead of scathingly critique her– and so misogynistic that this is how they treat women in politics– is head of speechwriting for the whole freaking White House?

Mr. Obama, give me a break. If you’re going to give this silver-platter job to some twenty-something screwup… I’ve got your screwup right here. See, I thought I wasn’t bestest and brightest enough to make the cut for the Obama dream team… but seeing staffers such as Favreau makes me realize I, too, have a chance! If this kid is qualified, I’ve no doubt that my intellectual prowess and communications skills are up to snuff. I have… what’s that… word… hope!

I’ll tell you this much: Closeted skeletons or past e-mail indiscretions aside, I’d definitely disable my Facebook upon acceptance of the job– and I can promise you I’d find better criticisms of political rivals than pointing out that they have breasts. Oh yes, yes I can.

So give that speechwriting gig to me instead, President-elect Obama. I may not have the Heineken-drinking skills or cardboard-breast-groping talents of Jon Favreau, but I promise you I could do the job at least as well as that guy.

Body of War, body of evidence March 25, 2008

The finishing segment on this morning’s Democracy Now! interviewed the subject a new documentary, Body of War, which follows the struggle and activism of a veteran of the Iraq debacle. Tomas Young became a passionate anti-war activist upon returning from Iraq. Alongside 24 other soldiers, Young was hailed with fire while crammed into a vehicle built for 18. In Sadr City. Without armor.

The film is part anti-war documentary and part biopic. Young’s particular situation makes his story uniquely compelling. To hear him speak, he’s obviously a patriot and an intellectual. Young has a quick tongue and trades barbs with peo-war detractors, and is able to link the war in Iraq to the U.S.’ other foreign and domestic goals on a macro-level. His critical thinking and morals are what got him into the military in the first place: Tomas Young says he called his recruiter on September 13, 2001, because of a desire to fight al-Qaeda in Afghanistan. Unlike so many Americans, he knows which Middle Eastern countries could be held responsible for 9/11– and was dismayed to watch his government shift its focus to Iraq. He knew the body of evidence for invading Iraq was flawed, yet had no say in his own involvement.

Following his injury, Young proceeded to become an unwitting poster child for just about every wrong our military has done to its soldiers lately– improper combat security, inadequate post-trauma care, untreated pain medication addiction, and inappropriate deployment in the first place. Young has overcome a ridiculous spread of obstacles in order to become a functional citizen again, let alone to lead a public life. He’s decided to turn his experiences into a reason to speak out against the war in Iraq, and Phil Donahue and Ellen Spiro have decided to follow him around with cameras while he did it.

Anti-war veterans are a powerful voice against U.S. combat in Iraq. Those who choose to speak against the war are nearly untouchable; perhaps the only people truly qualified to judge this conflict are the soldiers who have waged it. The administration can discredit Cindy Sheehan, but to disparage a wounded vet like Tomas Young (or, say, Max Cleeland) for being anti-war is a tough trick to pull.

Though we just passed the milestones of five years of deployment and 4,000 U.S. soldiers killed, Tomas Young is able to look beyond even his fallen fellow soldiers in his call for peace. He sees the growing intensity of Islamic fundamentalism among civilians who never should have been involved in our war. He sees the sectarian conflicts that have killed hundreds of thousands of Iraqis, and the proliferation of al-Qaeda in the nations we’ve turned our backs on. He sees the insult of the President pretending to look for the “missing” WMDs beneath the Oval Office desk not only as a soldier, but as an American whose name and nation are attached to this war. He sees a mission unaccomplished at the expense of American soldiers.

When considering why my opposition to this war is so intense even though I’m not a Muslim or a veteran, even though I don’t know too many soldiers who have been injured there (and, thankfully, none who have died), I think about people like Tomas Young. I think about 9/11 and the ridiculous tactics used to divert our attention from combating terrorism to “liberating” Iraq. And I hear our President telling widows and parents that their children have not died in vain. That those who are coming back from this war with unprecedented mental and physical trauma are somehow protecting their nation from another catastrophic attack. Most of all, I think about the 4,000 servicemembers killed in an illegal and immoral war that has nothing to do with terrorism in the first place… to avenge the deaths of 3,000 Americans in a terrorist attack perpetrated by Saudis and al-Qaeda leaders… it doesn’t add up.

The fundamental wrong I see, what keeps me worrying about this and sick with rage at our President and his administration, is that they have died in vain. And they continue to do so. That’s why I get so upset over it. Young’s hope for his film is that it will encourage other veterans to “speak truth to power.” He wants to turn this war around, to at least give the gift of honesty and dignity to the families of the fallen. Well, Body of War opens April 4 at the E Street Cinema in Washington, D.C. and I will be there listening.