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creating carrie

life's too short to live just one

In Mourning 

Twenty sixteen has been a nightmare of passings. We have been in shock over the loss of our artists, of our journalists, of our heroes. And then the Brexit. And then election. The fucking election.

After it was over and the results were called, I sprinted out of my comfortable existence, understanding in my skin that I was no longer safe. I was searching desperately for the thing I could to do to fix this. The country that had given me some relative sense of security (subject to exceptions based on gender and sexuality) was not the country in which I actually lived. America had revealed her true self to us.

People of color – specifically Black people – have been telling us about America for decades. They are the Scooby Squad unmasking the kyriarchical ghost to reveal that it was America all along, over and over and over again. And we White people have been fooled by the mask, over and over and over again.

The mask is off, and it ain’t going back on. Any belief that we had that the arc of the moral universe magically bent toward justice, instead of having to be forged by the fire and lives of multitudes who refuse to let it bend back, has to be set aside now.

My logic brain knows this.

And yet, I mourn.

I mourn the America that elected and reelected a Black man to the White House. I mourn the America that found its way to marriage equality. I mourn the America that looked ready to elect an imperfect White woman as president. I desperately mourn for the America of possibility, where our national ethos of all people being created equal, equal in rights and equal in dignity, was more than a pipe dream.

I believed in that America. I – a very imperfect White woman – lived and worked for that reality. And right now, all of those dreams and all that work has gone to shit.

America, my America, the one that I have been intensely privileged to have, is dead. She died on November 9, 2016. Something of me died with her, and my grief has been unfathomable.

I want to end this post with a call to action. With a rousing cry that we will not let America the Beautiful rest in peace, that we will revive her and fight for her and make her better than my naïve experience of her ever was.

I want to, and I’ll get there, but not now. My sprint has ended, and I have to catch my breath. One foot in front of the other, I am traveling down a road I cannot see and have no idea how or where it ends. It is dark and I am terrified, but we have miles to go before we sleep and stopping is not an option.

I’m so sick of lawyers, I could vomit

We all saw it. That Facebook post. The one where people cite to things that look legal-ish and where it says to copy and paste – don’t forward! – in order to protect yourself. It shows up just about every time Facebook updates its terms and conditions or privacy policies or what-have-you.

I would bet good money that shit was started by a lawyer or a law student and is perpetuated by more lawyers or law students when a new change happens. This time, my favorite legal-blog-to-ignore-most-of-the-time decided to revive its holier-than-thou 2012 post, which I will summarize for you:

How do you not magically understand the law, you stupid non-lawyer?

Because what’s really important, what we should all be using these hard-earned, over-priced law degrees for is shaming people that don’t know the law.*  Continue reading “I’m so sick of lawyers, I could vomit”

Right in the Balls

There’s nobody that has more respect for women than I do.

– Assclown 2016

Have you read 1984? Because I have – twice – and that’s some fucking doublespeak, if I’ve ever seen it. War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. Assault is Respect.

If you haven’t seen the news, Donald Trump (aforementioned Assclown), in what I expect are the secret conversations among (most) men when they think they won’t get caught, admitted in 2005 that his approach to women can be boiled down to two words: sexual assault. Continue reading “Right in the Balls”

Hello again

Hello! You’re still here! I hope you haven’t been waiting around for me for… Yeah. Three years. Or at least maybe you went out and had a coffee or something between posts.

A few lifetimes have happened since I’ve been away! I gotten a JD, got barred (almost a year now!), traveled through/to seven or eight (nine?) different countries, started writing fiction, became an aunt again, and again, and I’m sure I’m forgetting something important on this list.

I’m back and ready to see what this space can become.

So… hello! Shall we go on an adventure?

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Jezebel: Stick with Women, Stay Away from GMOs

Because this blog says so much better what I would want to say:

franklyrebekah

I’m sorry.  This is really long.

Okay, so, there was a time when in the mornings, after checking the headlines on the New York Times, I would head over to Jezebel and see what was happening in the world of women, as represented by feminists (some of them not so much) on Gawker’s payroll.  It was a pretty good way to keep up on all the happenings surrounding that Susan G. Komen debacle, gave me a link to an amazing speech by Sandra Fluke, and strengthened my extreme dislike for Donald Trump (I previously hadn’t thought that particular strain of dislike could be strengthened but there you have it).  In the last few months, however, I have found myself, for reasons I could not quite pinpoint, abandoning my daily visits to Jezebel.  Maybe it was because of those damn “thighlights” that I found both hypocritical and gender-normative, maybe…

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Tyranny: I do not think it means what you think it means

Did you know that if laws or executive orders happen that you disagree with then that means the US is a tyranny? It’s true! At least according to my wall on Facebook. I have some thoughts on this, so come along with me on a rant that is a product of my over-educated, luckily traveled background! Continue reading “Tyranny: I do not think it means what you think it means”

In pursuit of a happy body

Ah, blog space. Thank you for waiting patiently for me while I finished a semester in law school and enjoyed some time with my family, away from most of my stressors. However, the one, the constant, followed me home. Body image issues! Good times! Continue reading “In pursuit of a happy body”

The limit of rights

In the wake of the Aurora shootings, I have been thinking about, as many of us are, the right to keep and bear arms. I am lucky enough to have passionate people on both sides of the issue, and because of my personal history of growing up in a hunting family in Texas, I don’t want the nullification of the Second Amendment. It is an important one, but we need to have good and many conversations about it. My frustration with gun rights advocates comes not from their desire to protect this piece of the constitution but from their belief (conscious or not) that this right is somehow categorically different from other rights. Somehow superior to other rights. They are misguided.

All rights have limits. In the abstract, they don’t, but name me three people that live in the abstract (then check to see if they have an arsenal in their basement). Freedom of speech is famously curtailed by the rule of “you can’t yell ‘fire’ in a crowded movie theater.” Freedom of religion bumps up against the separation of church and state or is limited by the state itself (think about anti-polygamy laws and the FLDS). The freedom of the press is limited by invocations of executive privilege. Right of assembly often now requires bureaucratic paperwork to be legal. We as a society limit our rights in order to have them. We give a little away in order to have the core and important parts of those rights. Continue reading “The limit of rights”

The Tragedy of the Commons’ Body: Daniel Tosh and Breastfeeding

By now, every one of you knows about the woman who called Daniel Tosh out on attempting to make light of rape who was then subsequently threatened with gang rape. You probably have already read your favorite point of view on how to react to this story in a few different blogs and other online content. If you are one of my readers, you probably come down on the side of “Daniel Tosh is a scrotum for this and other reasons and doesn’t have the vagina to tell an actual joke.” So what does that have to do with breastfeeding? Lots! Come with me on a journey into the wilds of feminism. Continue reading “The Tragedy of the Commons’ Body: Daniel Tosh and Breastfeeding”

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