There's very little for me to do today at work, so whatever, here are some more thoughts on online dating.
1. It's actually not a compliment when you comment on my appearance.
But who doesn't like a compliment? Well, I like compliments, but having a guy tell me I'm cute isn't always one. Do I like being told that I look nice? It depends on the situation. And I can tell you right now that if the situation is that a guy IMs me on the dating site and mentions that he thinks I'm cute, then it's not a compliment.
I'm actually not very insecure about my looks. I find that the pressure to be thin has much more bearing on my life than any other look-based pressure. Is it because I'm pretty, or is it because I'm not that pretty, but I'm also not that insecure? I mean, I have nice hair that's a nice color. I've got nice eyes and I know how to use eyeliner. I've got straight teeth that are white enough considering that I'm not a celebrity. My skin, except for this summer--what the hell?!--is normally very clear. I used to be really insecure about body hair before realizing that I don't care. Weight is only a problem because it's a problem for everyone else, I've found.
So, when someone says I'm pretty or cute, my first thought is, "Yes, I know. Who the fuck cares?" I mean, it's a given that you think I'm moderately attractive because I don't think I've ever messaged a guy that I didn't think was moderately attractive. Once when I was struggling to write a first message to a guy, a friend pointed out that I shouldn't say, "I hope to hear back from you" because, well, of COURSE I hope to hear back from him, or I wouldn't message him in the first place. So, first off, if you tell me that I'm cute, that tells me that you're not that bright; you've just told me something that is already obvious.
Secondly, I hate that I'm supposed to take this as a huge compliment. Since the media is constantly telling women and girls that we're just never good enough, we're supposed to get really excited when a guy says, "You're passing excellently." I just don't see that as a compliment, especially when my body and appearance aren't things that I feel are that important in terms of accomplishments and abilities. Guys who comment on my looks, I've found, are not at all interested in where I went for my B.S., my interests, or my musical abilities. I have to pass if I don't want to endure stigma and harassment; I didn't have to work my ass off to get into a great college, graduate from said college, or become so talented at the flute.
Finally, there's male entitlement: I said you were cute, now go out with me. Yeah, no.
2. Giving me your contact information during the first couple conversations/messages, especially when we're not planning to meet up is weird.
This is a bit tricky to explain. I'm not talking about when, after a few messages back and forth, someone says, "By the way, if you ever want to talk on AIM, here is my screenname." I'm talking about when a guy sends me a first message and includes his phone number and screenname. I'm talking about when a guy gives me his info during the first IM conversation. I'm talking about when a guy gives me his phone number and tells me to call him. And I'm especially talking about when a guy does any of these things and either implicitly or explicitly lets me know that he wants me to give out my information. One common way, actually, that guys have tried to get my screenname, is by claiming that they hate using the site's instant messenger. I tell them that the reason I like the site's messenger is so I don't have to give my screenname to someone I don't know!
Why does it bother me? I consider the site a safe place to meet someone, or at least safer than going to a bar or giving someone my personal contact information. If I get to know you, and we're both interested in seeing each other, then sure, let's swap numbers so we can call each other if we're going to be late. But by giving and asking for contact information immediately, you're being presumptuous. You are basically saying to me, "I don't really care if you like me or not because I want to date you and soak up your attention." It also tells me that this guy is going to probably think that if I go out with him, I'm promising more than the date.
3. You do know that I can tell when you've read my profile, right?
Some guys like to message me without actually reading my profile. It's not exactly difficult to figure that out. A lot of guys give themselves away by IMing me, and then, when it's clear that I'm not bubbling over with conversation, try to find ways to keep the conversation alive. The best way to do that? It's to look at my profile, find a fact about me, and put that into the conversation. So, if they haven't been logged as viewing my profile before, and then they look during our conversation, I can put two and two together. And usually, it means that the guy looked at my photo only.
Sometimes, a guy does look at my profile, but just to see the other pictures I have (you know, to make sure I'm not fat, which I am, so joke's on them). I can usually tell when they have nothing else to talk about, seem to know nothing about me, and even ask questions that are answered on my profile. I also can tell when a guy hasn't read my entire profile (I can't prove they haven't read any of it, obviously) because I explicitly state, near the end, that if you're not going to at least attempt to write in proper English, you shouldn't bother. So when I get all those guys who ask, "hey how ru," I know what happened.
4. Some people ask really stupid questions.
Like, really stupid. One example that comes to mind immediately is, "So, what brings you to the site?" When I get that question now, which I do, frequently, I either respond, "That's on my profile," or "Why do you THINK I'm on this site?" One guy actually answered with a really sappy, kind of stupid response, something like, "To find that one special person, etc. etc.," and I replied, "I was going to say, to date people."
Another guy asked if I would consider dating non-Jews. That question, I think, is less stupid (especially since it's not a completely pointless question, and it demonstrates that he read my profile) than the above question, but stupid nonetheless. If I wouldn't date non-Jews, don't you think I would have said something else where I list who shouldn't message me? I was so specific there, you'd think I'd have been specific about whether or not I'd date a non-Jew. Also, I actually took a lot of offense at the question, although it's hard even now for me to explain why.
Another fun question, similar to the first one, is "So, how's this site working out for you?" Well, my profile says I'm single, so do me a favor and reconsider the question.
5. I'm not interesting in seeing your junk.
This is another reason why I don't give out my screenname immediately anymore. I'm not interested in seeing your penis. I know, it's shocking, since I'm sex-positive, which obviously means that anything goes with regards to sex (if you're not hearing the sarcasm, then you need to get more familiar with my writing). But really, I'm not interested. In fact, I consider it harassment when you send me naked photos unsolicited.
6. Like P!nk says, I'm not here for your entertainment.
It's not my job to keep you from getting bored. And it's not your job to keep me from getting bored either, but unlike you, I seem to know that!
It's happened to me and it's happened to plenty of my friends: you get an IM from someone, and after two seconds of conversation, they tell you that they're bored, or even bored and at work (and apparently instead of doing something like blogging about annoying online dating mistakes, they've chosen to make an annoying online dating mistake). And then they get annoyed when you don't put on a clown suit and hop around for their pleasure.
If you're bored, there's plenty else to do on the internet besides waste my time.
There are plenty more annoying mistakes I could put on this list, but I'm spent for the time being.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Problem with Freakonomics
I'm currently reading the book Freakonomics, and I'm almost finished with it. So far, I love it, but my love for it is conflicted.
1) There is an error regarding statistics about sexual violence, and the way those statistics are briefly discussed is highly problematic. By making the generalization that women's health advocates lie about how many women are assaulted, Levitt is undermining the credibility of women's health advocates and the anti-violence movement. Additionally, he's using the right number with the wrong description. He says that the proclaimed statistic is that 1 in 3 women is the victim of rape or attempted rape. The real 1 in 3 statistic is much broader, indicating the number of women who will experience an escalated form of sexual violence (which includes rape and attempted rape, but also completed and attempted sexual assault, child abuse, and relationship abuse of all kinds).
I'm not making the claim that Levitt is a jerk, or that no women's health advocate has ever lied before. But in a culture and society where violence against women is condoned, where rape myths run rampant, and where victims are further victimized for speaking out, he should have been much more sensitive about that material. No excuse for that.
2) In examining parenting, Levitt is really examining the intersections of race and parenting. And while I find it fascinating, and I also want to see the race gap made non-existent, I'm uncomfortable with the general detachment I get from the writing. I need to have some other race conscious people read this book and see if they have similar feelings. I'm just thoroughly uncomfortable reading a white guy talk about race. I also hate that the adjectives "black," "white," "Hispanic," etc. are used improperly as nouns. We're not blacks, whites, or Hispanics (I use Latin@, but I didn't write this book), just like we're not gays or straights. We're PEOPLE. Black PEOPLE, white PEOPLE, etc.
Again, the authorial intent is probably benign. But this language perpetuates the idea that we are our markers. If you have dark brown skin, you are "a black." Nuh-uh. Doesn't sit well here.
1) There is an error regarding statistics about sexual violence, and the way those statistics are briefly discussed is highly problematic. By making the generalization that women's health advocates lie about how many women are assaulted, Levitt is undermining the credibility of women's health advocates and the anti-violence movement. Additionally, he's using the right number with the wrong description. He says that the proclaimed statistic is that 1 in 3 women is the victim of rape or attempted rape. The real 1 in 3 statistic is much broader, indicating the number of women who will experience an escalated form of sexual violence (which includes rape and attempted rape, but also completed and attempted sexual assault, child abuse, and relationship abuse of all kinds).
I'm not making the claim that Levitt is a jerk, or that no women's health advocate has ever lied before. But in a culture and society where violence against women is condoned, where rape myths run rampant, and where victims are further victimized for speaking out, he should have been much more sensitive about that material. No excuse for that.
2) In examining parenting, Levitt is really examining the intersections of race and parenting. And while I find it fascinating, and I also want to see the race gap made non-existent, I'm uncomfortable with the general detachment I get from the writing. I need to have some other race conscious people read this book and see if they have similar feelings. I'm just thoroughly uncomfortable reading a white guy talk about race. I also hate that the adjectives "black," "white," "Hispanic," etc. are used improperly as nouns. We're not blacks, whites, or Hispanics (I use Latin@, but I didn't write this book), just like we're not gays or straights. We're PEOPLE. Black PEOPLE, white PEOPLE, etc.
Again, the authorial intent is probably benign. But this language perpetuates the idea that we are our markers. If you have dark brown skin, you are "a black." Nuh-uh. Doesn't sit well here.
Entitlement: or Why I hate dating
I date. I use an online dating site. I've had eh success with it. I do not believe that people should or shouldn't date/use online dating sites, nor do I think that there's something wrong with anyone who is looking for a significant other or a fun night.
That said, the dating environment has some huge, huge issues, ones that I'm not going to let go. "If you have a problem with it, then don't date!" you might say, or think. Or, how about this: if there are widespread issues with dating, how about we FIX them, yes? And one thing I'd like to fix, just about right now, is entitlement.
This post isn't meant to be a ridiculously comprehensive textbook on entitlement in dating, to be taught in sociology and women's studies classes 'round the globe. Instead, it's meant to briefly-ish discuss the lived experiences of myself and a friend of mine, both of us single, feminist women in our early twenties. My friend blogs about her experiences with online dating on her website, ihateokstupid.wordpress.com; I highly recommend it.
So, what's entitlement? If a woman believes a guy should pay for a date because she agreed to go out with him, that's entitlement. If a guy demands that a woman explain her ethnicity during the first few moments of a conversation (you don't think that happens? Read my friend's blog), that's entitlement.
From what I've learned, male entitlement occurs far more frequently than female entitlement. It seems to stem from the myth of the Nice Guy and the Desperately Insecure Single Woman.
The Nice Guy feels entitled to your attention. Why? Because he's a NICE GUY. He paid for this dinner! He didn't tell you that you were ugly! He was super duper sweet and perfect! So why is your clothing still on?!
The Desperately Insecure Single Woman is, as you might expect, not only desperately insecure about herself, but acutely aware of her unacceptably single status. She must find a man (not a woman, obviously)! So, if that guy over there messages you, you have to get excited. I mean, a guy is paying attention to you! And if he wants you to talk to him because he's bored, talk. After all, if you don't treat this guy like a king, then he will stop being kind enough to ignore all of your HUGE, unacceptable flaws, and then you will stay single and die single and be a complete failure.
Now, we also have the Playa Guys (who, if they pay attention to you, obviously you should be flattered because they only go for Hot Chicks; therefore, revert to fawning behavior to keep his attention), or Shy Nerds (who, if you're not interested, harp on you for being shallow for not falling head over heels for them, you awful person, you!). Women can also be Shy Nerds, who have to hide all the Shy Nerdiness in order to impress guys, or they can be Out of your Leaguers, who still have to deal with male entitlement.
Oh, and if you're a bi woman, guess how many guys are going to ask you whether or not you'll have a threesome?
Does everyone fit into a category? Well, no. No one really does. But you see the patterns. In the heteronormative dating world, women have to be nice to men to avoid being stuck a spinster. Never mind whether or not we actually LIKE being single, or having ... standards. Or like women.
The way I most frequently experience male entitlement in the dating scene is my reluctance to come right out with how I feel about the guy. So far, "how I feel about the guy" has always been, "I'm not interested in going out with you," or "I'm not interested in another date." However, after years of being socialized, along with my female peers, to be accomodating to people, especially to men, I find it very difficult.
I worry about being called names, or otherwise harassed for saying, "No thanks." When on an actual date, sometimes I worry about assault. I don't feel paranoid about it, but the threat is always there, just like when I walk alone at night. And sometimes, I really just don't know what to say in the moment.
Here are some of the ways I've experienced male entitlement, more specifically:
- being told by a guy I had dated only a few times before I tried very hard to shake him off, several months after I'd last spoken to him, that I should go to an event so that there would be someone he knew there
- several times, I've had a guy IM me through the dating site who tells me he is bored and then gets annoyed with me for not entertaining him
- several times, I've had a guy IM me, and either the first or second thing he says is a comment on my appearance, which he expects must be taken as a compliment
- a few times, before I changed my profile (where I was much more explicit about being a feminist), men IMed me or messaged me, insisting that I defend my feminist beliefs (once, I was told to "prove" my senior project, which I had not yet begun to research)
- some men have asked for a date within five minutes of IMing me, and when I have said, "No thanks," or "I'm sorry, I'm busy," they've persisted (one guy in particular kept asking me out when I told him I was busy every day for the next month. I wasn't lying either; I wanted to go out with him originally, but I was really that busy. When he wouldn't stop pestering me, I had to actually tell him outright that if he messaged me one more time before a specific date, I wouldn't ever go out with him; he never messaged me again)
- a guy will ask questions about my bird, talk about how much he likes animals, and then be peeved when I do not seem interested in the conversation
- men who are older than my top age range will message me anyway and then give me a hard time when I say no thanks
Of course, if I complain about any of these things, I'm told to either change my profile, be nice to these guys, just ignore everything, or stop dating. Or how about this whole entitlement thing goes to hell, please?
Lately, I've been trying to stop the whole, "I want to tell this guy to fuck off, but I don't know how." Once, when a guy IMed me three nights in a row and bored my brains out, I finally just told him that I wasn't interested. That's worked other times, too.
My friend, who blogs about her experiences, gets more crap than I do, probably because she's black and bi (and I am straight and as white as anyone could possibly be). She has guys who persistently tell her that she needs to give them a chance, who demand to know exactly WHAT kind of black she is. She gets white guys who tell her they want to date a black woman, but then deny the racist implications of their desires. Really, check out her blog, ihateokstupid.wordpress.com, since it'll give you a much better idea of what she has to deal with than I ever could. I think one of the messages I got is blogged there (it was so hilarious, I couldn't stop laughing the entire rest of the day).
So far, it looks as if our standards have prevented us from graduating into that elite, special class of woman: the Woman in a Relationship (which, as you can guess, is totally like being a Disney Princess!). But I'd rather be single and laugh about it than actually date someone who doesn't meet my reasonable and reasonably selected standards.
After all, if falling in love with you means that I will ignore that you're a high school dropout who smokes a pack a day, only reads WWE magazines, lives three hours away, voted for Bush and McCain, and thinks feminism is for lesbians, how am I supposed to ignore that IN ORDER to fall in love?
That said, the dating environment has some huge, huge issues, ones that I'm not going to let go. "If you have a problem with it, then don't date!" you might say, or think. Or, how about this: if there are widespread issues with dating, how about we FIX them, yes? And one thing I'd like to fix, just about right now, is entitlement.
This post isn't meant to be a ridiculously comprehensive textbook on entitlement in dating, to be taught in sociology and women's studies classes 'round the globe. Instead, it's meant to briefly-ish discuss the lived experiences of myself and a friend of mine, both of us single, feminist women in our early twenties. My friend blogs about her experiences with online dating on her website, ihateokstupid.wordpress.com; I highly recommend it.
So, what's entitlement? If a woman believes a guy should pay for a date because she agreed to go out with him, that's entitlement. If a guy demands that a woman explain her ethnicity during the first few moments of a conversation (you don't think that happens? Read my friend's blog), that's entitlement.
From what I've learned, male entitlement occurs far more frequently than female entitlement. It seems to stem from the myth of the Nice Guy and the Desperately Insecure Single Woman.
The Nice Guy feels entitled to your attention. Why? Because he's a NICE GUY. He paid for this dinner! He didn't tell you that you were ugly! He was super duper sweet and perfect! So why is your clothing still on?!
The Desperately Insecure Single Woman is, as you might expect, not only desperately insecure about herself, but acutely aware of her unacceptably single status. She must find a man (not a woman, obviously)! So, if that guy over there messages you, you have to get excited. I mean, a guy is paying attention to you! And if he wants you to talk to him because he's bored, talk. After all, if you don't treat this guy like a king, then he will stop being kind enough to ignore all of your HUGE, unacceptable flaws, and then you will stay single and die single and be a complete failure.
Now, we also have the Playa Guys (who, if they pay attention to you, obviously you should be flattered because they only go for Hot Chicks; therefore, revert to fawning behavior to keep his attention), or Shy Nerds (who, if you're not interested, harp on you for being shallow for not falling head over heels for them, you awful person, you!). Women can also be Shy Nerds, who have to hide all the Shy Nerdiness in order to impress guys, or they can be Out of your Leaguers, who still have to deal with male entitlement.
Oh, and if you're a bi woman, guess how many guys are going to ask you whether or not you'll have a threesome?
Does everyone fit into a category? Well, no. No one really does. But you see the patterns. In the heteronormative dating world, women have to be nice to men to avoid being stuck a spinster. Never mind whether or not we actually LIKE being single, or having ... standards. Or like women.
The way I most frequently experience male entitlement in the dating scene is my reluctance to come right out with how I feel about the guy. So far, "how I feel about the guy" has always been, "I'm not interested in going out with you," or "I'm not interested in another date." However, after years of being socialized, along with my female peers, to be accomodating to people, especially to men, I find it very difficult.
I worry about being called names, or otherwise harassed for saying, "No thanks." When on an actual date, sometimes I worry about assault. I don't feel paranoid about it, but the threat is always there, just like when I walk alone at night. And sometimes, I really just don't know what to say in the moment.
Here are some of the ways I've experienced male entitlement, more specifically:
- being told by a guy I had dated only a few times before I tried very hard to shake him off, several months after I'd last spoken to him, that I should go to an event so that there would be someone he knew there
- several times, I've had a guy IM me through the dating site who tells me he is bored and then gets annoyed with me for not entertaining him
- several times, I've had a guy IM me, and either the first or second thing he says is a comment on my appearance, which he expects must be taken as a compliment
- a few times, before I changed my profile (where I was much more explicit about being a feminist), men IMed me or messaged me, insisting that I defend my feminist beliefs (once, I was told to "prove" my senior project, which I had not yet begun to research)
- some men have asked for a date within five minutes of IMing me, and when I have said, "No thanks," or "I'm sorry, I'm busy," they've persisted (one guy in particular kept asking me out when I told him I was busy every day for the next month. I wasn't lying either; I wanted to go out with him originally, but I was really that busy. When he wouldn't stop pestering me, I had to actually tell him outright that if he messaged me one more time before a specific date, I wouldn't ever go out with him; he never messaged me again)
- a guy will ask questions about my bird, talk about how much he likes animals, and then be peeved when I do not seem interested in the conversation
- men who are older than my top age range will message me anyway and then give me a hard time when I say no thanks
Of course, if I complain about any of these things, I'm told to either change my profile, be nice to these guys, just ignore everything, or stop dating. Or how about this whole entitlement thing goes to hell, please?
Lately, I've been trying to stop the whole, "I want to tell this guy to fuck off, but I don't know how." Once, when a guy IMed me three nights in a row and bored my brains out, I finally just told him that I wasn't interested. That's worked other times, too.
My friend, who blogs about her experiences, gets more crap than I do, probably because she's black and bi (and I am straight and as white as anyone could possibly be). She has guys who persistently tell her that she needs to give them a chance, who demand to know exactly WHAT kind of black she is. She gets white guys who tell her they want to date a black woman, but then deny the racist implications of their desires. Really, check out her blog, ihateokstupid.wordpress.com, since it'll give you a much better idea of what she has to deal with than I ever could. I think one of the messages I got is blogged there (it was so hilarious, I couldn't stop laughing the entire rest of the day).
So far, it looks as if our standards have prevented us from graduating into that elite, special class of woman: the Woman in a Relationship (which, as you can guess, is totally like being a Disney Princess!). But I'd rather be single and laugh about it than actually date someone who doesn't meet my reasonable and reasonably selected standards.
After all, if falling in love with you means that I will ignore that you're a high school dropout who smokes a pack a day, only reads WWE magazines, lives three hours away, voted for Bush and McCain, and thinks feminism is for lesbians, how am I supposed to ignore that IN ORDER to fall in love?
Run, run, run
One occurrence is just that: a one time deal. In order to be sure of something, such as the results of an experiment, the results must be reproducible.
For example, being able to fit into my capri pants? The first time, it was a one time deal. The second time, it looked a bit more like the first time wasn't a fluke. After washing them, sticking them in the dryer for too long, and then still having them fit, it seemed more likely than not that I had lost enough volume in my ass and thighs to fit into them for reals.
And now, running. Two weeks ago, when I got to the gym, there were too many people doing circuits, so the trainer had me go on the treadmill first. MISTAKE. I ended up feeling energized enough to run, not walk, and by the time the trainer came by 10ish minutes later, I was past half a mile and wanted to see how far I could run.* I ended up running for 20 minutes and going about 1.3 miles (needless to say, I got my ass kicked more than usual during circuits afterwards).
Then, last week, I went for a treadmill run after circuits, mostly because I felt guilty about driving to and from the train station earlier (normally I walk the mile there and some of the mile back). I ended up only being able to run for about 3/4ths of a mile, but it was because when I stopped for some water, I got a massive cramp in my side.
Last night, I went for my victory lap (which is that I call any run that I do because of an occasion, such as a holiday, birthday, or last day of classes). I ended up going for 20 minutes, 1.3 miles again. So, we'll have to see if I can keep this up.
In other news, my car is at the shop, and I have no idea when it'll be back. I trust the Auto Body, so I'm not worried about the car getting fixed to perfection. But I had to cancel the gym for tonight because I have no way of getting home (if I, say, run the 1.3 miles to the gym, that's fine, but I'm not going to be able to run home after, and I'm not walking for 45 minutes through a bad neighborhood at 8 pm). This makes me sad because I just started tracking my calories on thedailyplate.com, at the recommendation of my aunt, and circuit training burns WAY fucking more calories than running does. Burning more calories = eating more calories. So yeah.
I need to either cut or paint my nails tonight, or else.
* Last June through August, I was jogging regularly, and I ended up almost being able to run 5k. But very suddenly in the middle of August, my calves began to burn intensely whenever I ran, or even rushed up the hill to get to class or took the stairs too quickly. I wasn't ever able to get the pain checked out by a doctor, but eventually, I hypothesized that the pain was caused by weak muscles (my thigh muscles are much stronger than my calf ones), and bad shoes (I never bought new running shoes; I'd just use my mom's old ones). So, with new running shoes and stronger calves, things are improving.
For example, being able to fit into my capri pants? The first time, it was a one time deal. The second time, it looked a bit more like the first time wasn't a fluke. After washing them, sticking them in the dryer for too long, and then still having them fit, it seemed more likely than not that I had lost enough volume in my ass and thighs to fit into them for reals.
And now, running. Two weeks ago, when I got to the gym, there were too many people doing circuits, so the trainer had me go on the treadmill first. MISTAKE. I ended up feeling energized enough to run, not walk, and by the time the trainer came by 10ish minutes later, I was past half a mile and wanted to see how far I could run.* I ended up running for 20 minutes and going about 1.3 miles (needless to say, I got my ass kicked more than usual during circuits afterwards).
Then, last week, I went for a treadmill run after circuits, mostly because I felt guilty about driving to and from the train station earlier (normally I walk the mile there and some of the mile back). I ended up only being able to run for about 3/4ths of a mile, but it was because when I stopped for some water, I got a massive cramp in my side.
Last night, I went for my victory lap (which is that I call any run that I do because of an occasion, such as a holiday, birthday, or last day of classes). I ended up going for 20 minutes, 1.3 miles again. So, we'll have to see if I can keep this up.
In other news, my car is at the shop, and I have no idea when it'll be back. I trust the Auto Body, so I'm not worried about the car getting fixed to perfection. But I had to cancel the gym for tonight because I have no way of getting home (if I, say, run the 1.3 miles to the gym, that's fine, but I'm not going to be able to run home after, and I'm not walking for 45 minutes through a bad neighborhood at 8 pm). This makes me sad because I just started tracking my calories on thedailyplate.com, at the recommendation of my aunt, and circuit training burns WAY fucking more calories than running does. Burning more calories = eating more calories. So yeah.
I need to either cut or paint my nails tonight, or else.
* Last June through August, I was jogging regularly, and I ended up almost being able to run 5k. But very suddenly in the middle of August, my calves began to burn intensely whenever I ran, or even rushed up the hill to get to class or took the stairs too quickly. I wasn't ever able to get the pain checked out by a doctor, but eventually, I hypothesized that the pain was caused by weak muscles (my thigh muscles are much stronger than my calf ones), and bad shoes (I never bought new running shoes; I'd just use my mom's old ones). So, with new running shoes and stronger calves, things are improving.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
WOW I'M OLD
I'm 23 today!
Today's agenda: two talks (although I think this might mean free breakfast and free lunch), quantifications, starting up cells, then heading home. Going for a run (victory lap), vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, dropping off my car (and seeing Carol Ann!).
May this year be better than the past.
Today's agenda: two talks (although I think this might mean free breakfast and free lunch), quantifications, starting up cells, then heading home. Going for a run (victory lap), vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, dropping off my car (and seeing Carol Ann!).
May this year be better than the past.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Car accident
I was in a car accident today. A few things to get out of the way:
1) I am fine. There were no (human) injuries in the accident. My neck hurts but it's been hurting me all day and was not worsened by the accident.
2) I am not at fault for the accident.
3) A cop was called to the scene, and there were several witnesses; I have all the necessary information to get my car fixed at no cost to me, with no increased premiums.
4) My car can be driven just fine.
So, what happened?
I went up to Reading to visit my flute teacher, and on the way back, I decided to stop at the grocery store (Market Basket, because it's cheap!). After I finished, I put my groceries in my car and then got ready to back out of the spot. The person in the spot across the aisle from me, though, was also backing out to leave, so I let them go first. I knew they were leaving because I was looking behind me while trying to back out, and I saw their whites were on. Before I could back out, another car pulled in.
I began to pull out, but the car that had just pulled in was then straightening out. After they had pulled out and back in twice, I thought they were done; their whites weren't on. So I backed out.
Just as I was putting my car into drive, I realized that the car was REVERSING. AGAIN. INTO ME. So I beeped as quickly as I could, since there wasn't enough time for me to get out of the way. They did not seem to notice.
They hit my driver's side rear door. I then parked and opened my door to get out as they pulled back into the space. THEN THEY BEGAN TO BACK OUT AGAIN, while I had my door open! People yelled, though, and the driver realized that I was there.
Out of the car came three very annoyed women. The asked, "What, did you hit us?" I explained, "I had been waiting for you to back out, and I thought you were done, so I backed out." I pointed to my vacated space.
"Obviously I wasn't done!" said the driver. She pointed to her car. "I was still straightening out!"
"Were you looking behind you?" I asked, trying to stay calm/not cry about the massive damage to my beautiful, recently purchased car.
"Of course I was!" she answered indignantly. Her companions were going on about how I should have waited for them to be finished.
A woman who had been parked next to me had seen the accident, and she came over when she realized that the other women thought it was my fault. As she explained to them that she had seen the whole thing and that they had backed up into me, a young man from Market Basket, who had been bringing in carts, came to me to ask if I was okay and if I would like him to call a cop (I thanked him). Soon, the cop arrived, in time for the three women from the car that had hit me to complain to him about the witness who had confronted them.
The cop looked at the damage, asked what had happened, and heard the story from me, two witnesses (the woman and a different MB employee), and the three women from the other car. He looked at the damage and asked whether or not I could drive my car sideways. I answered, "Of course not," not realizing that he was asking in order to demonstrate the absurdity of the situation: I could not be at fault because it was impossible for ME to have hit THEIR car, based on the location of the damage.
The three women kept going on about how rude one of the witnesses was, how obvious it was that they were still straightening the car out, and how I came out of nowhere and should have waited for them to finish. Meanwhile, the cop collected everyone's information and proceeded to write a citation for the other driver. 40 minutes later, after calling my mom and totally crying like a baby, I got to go home with a massive dent in my car.
I'm very thankful that the MB employee went and called a cop, and that the witness was not only very kind, but also very firm about standing her ground. She didn't need to do it, and with the culture of inactive bystanding we all live in, I really appreciate what she did. I'm also grateful that the cop was understanding and, well, correctly assigned fault.
I would be upset either way, especially since my car was new and my birthday is Tuesday. But what was really the part that bothered me was the way that the other driver and her companions insisted that it was my fault, when it, legally and logically, was not. Yes, when it comes down to insurance, I'm in the clear. But when someone hits your car and then refuses to accept responsibility for it, it's pretty hard.
The most annoying part is this: when you are in reverse in a typical passenger car, you are supposed to (legally, actually) turn around and look through your car, out the back window to make sure you do not hit or run over anyone. You aren't supposed to check your mirrors instead, and you certainly aren't supposed to NOT look. Since I was looking out the back of my car earlier, I could see that the other driver kept straightening their car; I could tell because I was looking!
The driver said that 1) she WAS looking, and 2) she did not see me. But only one of those statements could possibly be true. So either she saw me and went anyway (not only ridiculously unlikely, but who would DO that?!), or she did not look behind her while backing out. Considering that she didn't even realize she'd hit me and continued to straighten the car (after all, she backed out a second time and almost hit my open door), I'd bet my left ovary that she just wasn't looking. She deserves a citation; that's reckless driving, and had, say, a PERSON been walking behind that car, they might have been killed.
So, I'm fine, although very angry and emotionally shaken up. I'm not looking forward to having to do all the work necessary to have my car fixed, although I'm going to do it ASAP. And mostly, I'm just really, really heartbroken every time I look at the damage. It's ugly.
1) I am fine. There were no (human) injuries in the accident. My neck hurts but it's been hurting me all day and was not worsened by the accident.
2) I am not at fault for the accident.
3) A cop was called to the scene, and there were several witnesses; I have all the necessary information to get my car fixed at no cost to me, with no increased premiums.
4) My car can be driven just fine.
So, what happened?
I went up to Reading to visit my flute teacher, and on the way back, I decided to stop at the grocery store (Market Basket, because it's cheap!). After I finished, I put my groceries in my car and then got ready to back out of the spot. The person in the spot across the aisle from me, though, was also backing out to leave, so I let them go first. I knew they were leaving because I was looking behind me while trying to back out, and I saw their whites were on. Before I could back out, another car pulled in.
I began to pull out, but the car that had just pulled in was then straightening out. After they had pulled out and back in twice, I thought they were done; their whites weren't on. So I backed out.
Just as I was putting my car into drive, I realized that the car was REVERSING. AGAIN. INTO ME. So I beeped as quickly as I could, since there wasn't enough time for me to get out of the way. They did not seem to notice.
They hit my driver's side rear door. I then parked and opened my door to get out as they pulled back into the space. THEN THEY BEGAN TO BACK OUT AGAIN, while I had my door open! People yelled, though, and the driver realized that I was there.Out of the car came three very annoyed women. The asked, "What, did you hit us?" I explained, "I had been waiting for you to back out, and I thought you were done, so I backed out." I pointed to my vacated space.
"Obviously I wasn't done!" said the driver. She pointed to her car. "I was still straightening out!"
"Were you looking behind you?" I asked, trying to stay calm/not cry about the massive damage to my beautiful, recently purchased car.
"Of course I was!" she answered indignantly. Her companions were going on about how I should have waited for them to be finished.
A woman who had been parked next to me had seen the accident, and she came over when she realized that the other women thought it was my fault. As she explained to them that she had seen the whole thing and that they had backed up into me, a young man from Market Basket, who had been bringing in carts, came to me to ask if I was okay and if I would like him to call a cop (I thanked him). Soon, the cop arrived, in time for the three women from the car that had hit me to complain to him about the witness who had confronted them.
The cop looked at the damage, asked what had happened, and heard the story from me, two witnesses (the woman and a different MB employee), and the three women from the other car. He looked at the damage and asked whether or not I could drive my car sideways. I answered, "Of course not," not realizing that he was asking in order to demonstrate the absurdity of the situation: I could not be at fault because it was impossible for ME to have hit THEIR car, based on the location of the damage.
The three women kept going on about how rude one of the witnesses was, how obvious it was that they were still straightening the car out, and how I came out of nowhere and should have waited for them to finish. Meanwhile, the cop collected everyone's information and proceeded to write a citation for the other driver. 40 minutes later, after calling my mom and totally crying like a baby, I got to go home with a massive dent in my car.
I'm very thankful that the MB employee went and called a cop, and that the witness was not only very kind, but also very firm about standing her ground. She didn't need to do it, and with the culture of inactive bystanding we all live in, I really appreciate what she did. I'm also grateful that the cop was understanding and, well, correctly assigned fault.
I would be upset either way, especially since my car was new and my birthday is Tuesday. But what was really the part that bothered me was the way that the other driver and her companions insisted that it was my fault, when it, legally and logically, was not. Yes, when it comes down to insurance, I'm in the clear. But when someone hits your car and then refuses to accept responsibility for it, it's pretty hard.
The most annoying part is this: when you are in reverse in a typical passenger car, you are supposed to (legally, actually) turn around and look through your car, out the back window to make sure you do not hit or run over anyone. You aren't supposed to check your mirrors instead, and you certainly aren't supposed to NOT look. Since I was looking out the back of my car earlier, I could see that the other driver kept straightening their car; I could tell because I was looking!
The driver said that 1) she WAS looking, and 2) she did not see me. But only one of those statements could possibly be true. So either she saw me and went anyway (not only ridiculously unlikely, but who would DO that?!), or she did not look behind her while backing out. Considering that she didn't even realize she'd hit me and continued to straighten the car (after all, she backed out a second time and almost hit my open door), I'd bet my left ovary that she just wasn't looking. She deserves a citation; that's reckless driving, and had, say, a PERSON been walking behind that car, they might have been killed.
So, I'm fine, although very angry and emotionally shaken up. I'm not looking forward to having to do all the work necessary to have my car fixed, although I'm going to do it ASAP. And mostly, I'm just really, really heartbroken every time I look at the damage. It's ugly.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Thoughts on the Annie Le case
It bothers me to write about this case. I think that Annie's family, fiance, and friends probably just want this nightmare to end. So I feel like, by writing about the case, I'm doing a disservice to Annie and her family. But the case has been bothering me.
When I first shared the case with a friend, she seemed surprised at the amount of publicity, especially considering that Annie had been missing for only a couple days at that point. Finally, she asked the question I knew what bothering her: was Annie white?
Missing white woman syndrome refers to the obscene amount of press coverage devoted to missing white women (more coverage for blond, attractive, not-shit-stirring ones). People disappear all the time, unfortunately, but you don't always hear about them. You're more likely to, however, if it's a white woman who's gone missing.
Was Annie white? Well, she was light-skinned, but she was of Asian, not Caucasian descent. My friend and I found this puzzling. If she's not white, what does this mean? Does this mean that MWWS actually refers to skin color and not ethnicity (color being actual color, and ethnicity being, say, Caucasian, African, Asian, etc.)? Or is there something else about her? Is it because her wedding was coming up? Because she went to an elite, Ivy League graduate school? I'm not sure what her fiance's ethnicity is, but based on his last name, he is probably white; is that why? Does it have anything to do with the myth of vulnerability of Asian women?
I'm not trying to suggest that we shouldn't be concerned with missing women, white or not. But in a culture where missing white women get all the coverage, my friend and I were confused. However, we were glad that people were looking for her. No missing person should be forgotten solely based on race.
Thanks to my intersecting identities as sexual assault survivor/scholar and total forensics/true crime documentary junkie, I made some predictions to another friend of mine regarding the case. I understand that the thought of me making predictions seems insensitive; however, I see it as part of solving the case and recognizing where violence comes from. After all, if something becomes predictable, then we've found a pattern that perhaps we can address.
As for the predictions, I told my friend the following: the murderer would probably be a staff member, although maybe another student. He would be male. He would either have absolutely no relationship to Annie, or such a relationship would be professional only, and not remotely close. I also predicted that the murdered probably was angry because of a real or perceived rejection from Annie, who probably had no idea that she was in any danger from this person she barely knew, or knew not at all.
Why? First off, it's easy to predict that the murderer had to have been Yale staff or faculty, or another student; no one else can actually access the building. Even before her body was discovered, it made sense that she was still there; no security camera saw her leave. Unless there was an elaborate kidnapping, we would have seen her leave. So that eliminates, within reason, anyone who didn't have access to the building.
Once her body was discovered, that fact was cemented, and I suspected staff. I don't think a student or faculty member would have thought to put her body there, and since she was in the lab's animal facility, I figured we were looking at animal staff.
Why do I suspect this particular relationship or lack-thereof between Annie and her murderer? There do not seem to be any other reasonable motives in this case. None. However, violence against women so often hinges on male entitlement to women that it was the first thing that came to mind.
Now, an animal technician has been arrested and charged with Annie's murder. All I can get right now is that police are calling the murder "workplace violence." Well, that's specific, thanks! However, I consider this more evidence to support my predictions. We'll have to see.
I want to see justice for Annie and for her family. Violence sucks.
When I first shared the case with a friend, she seemed surprised at the amount of publicity, especially considering that Annie had been missing for only a couple days at that point. Finally, she asked the question I knew what bothering her: was Annie white?
Missing white woman syndrome refers to the obscene amount of press coverage devoted to missing white women (more coverage for blond, attractive, not-shit-stirring ones). People disappear all the time, unfortunately, but you don't always hear about them. You're more likely to, however, if it's a white woman who's gone missing.
Was Annie white? Well, she was light-skinned, but she was of Asian, not Caucasian descent. My friend and I found this puzzling. If she's not white, what does this mean? Does this mean that MWWS actually refers to skin color and not ethnicity (color being actual color, and ethnicity being, say, Caucasian, African, Asian, etc.)? Or is there something else about her? Is it because her wedding was coming up? Because she went to an elite, Ivy League graduate school? I'm not sure what her fiance's ethnicity is, but based on his last name, he is probably white; is that why? Does it have anything to do with the myth of vulnerability of Asian women?
I'm not trying to suggest that we shouldn't be concerned with missing women, white or not. But in a culture where missing white women get all the coverage, my friend and I were confused. However, we were glad that people were looking for her. No missing person should be forgotten solely based on race.
Thanks to my intersecting identities as sexual assault survivor/scholar and total forensics/true crime documentary junkie, I made some predictions to another friend of mine regarding the case. I understand that the thought of me making predictions seems insensitive; however, I see it as part of solving the case and recognizing where violence comes from. After all, if something becomes predictable, then we've found a pattern that perhaps we can address.
As for the predictions, I told my friend the following: the murderer would probably be a staff member, although maybe another student. He would be male. He would either have absolutely no relationship to Annie, or such a relationship would be professional only, and not remotely close. I also predicted that the murdered probably was angry because of a real or perceived rejection from Annie, who probably had no idea that she was in any danger from this person she barely knew, or knew not at all.
Why? First off, it's easy to predict that the murderer had to have been Yale staff or faculty, or another student; no one else can actually access the building. Even before her body was discovered, it made sense that she was still there; no security camera saw her leave. Unless there was an elaborate kidnapping, we would have seen her leave. So that eliminates, within reason, anyone who didn't have access to the building.
Once her body was discovered, that fact was cemented, and I suspected staff. I don't think a student or faculty member would have thought to put her body there, and since she was in the lab's animal facility, I figured we were looking at animal staff.
Why do I suspect this particular relationship or lack-thereof between Annie and her murderer? There do not seem to be any other reasonable motives in this case. None. However, violence against women so often hinges on male entitlement to women that it was the first thing that came to mind.
Now, an animal technician has been arrested and charged with Annie's murder. All I can get right now is that police are calling the murder "workplace violence." Well, that's specific, thanks! However, I consider this more evidence to support my predictions. We'll have to see.
I want to see justice for Annie and for her family. Violence sucks.
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