I Taught Knitting On The Train Again

It’s after midnight and I just got home from work and I should go to sleep but I have to tell you what happened on the Subway tonight.

Backing up:

This weekend my cousin had a baby (congratulations!) so yesterday I bought some yarn and today I started making a baby sweater. I got on the train and a guy sat next to me. He was a young looking, tall black guy with what looked like a glossy fashion magazine. Since I can now knit without looking I started snooping and he totally called me out on it.

“Curious?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a fashion magazine. Are you in fashion too?”

“Not a chance. I can’t even get dressed in the morning. My cousin just had a baby so this is a sweater for her.”

“Do you, like, make luxury baby clothes? I actually tried to learn to knit from someone on a train before ha.”

“I can teach you. I’m a good teacher”

And then I taught him how to knit. We laughed and talked. He told me about his internship at a magazine and the party he had been at. I told him about weird knitting tricks he didn’t need to learn. It was great and he was a great student.

After a few stops the guy who had been sitting across from us got up and showed us a note he had written on his phone “You don’t know how many lives you’ve touched just from a simple exchange of artistry. Thank you.”

We chuckled and said thank you. Yes, it was a little awkward but I think both of us were just enjoying the impromptu lesson so much we didn’t care.

And if that little moment of kindness, our moment of kinship brightened the day of someone else on that train then yay. I’m glad.

Abortifacient

I’m not a linguist.

I have a few friends who (whup my ass in scrabble and) are linguists. They like to look up the origins of Farsi and remind me that it has no connection to Hebrew (unlike Arabic) even though the alphabet looks the same and then tell me the historic reasons why.

But I can’t do that. I just like spelling.

And some words I think are inherently beautiful, even regardless of their meanings.

I remember when I was a kid hearing a story about a woman in a hospital giving birth and hearing the word ‘placenta’ for the first time and wanting to use it as her daughters name because she thought it sounded beautiful.

When I was a kid I loved the word aneurysm. I only vaguely understood the meaning but it just felt so good coming out of my mouth, halfway between a scream and a spell.

Some other words have gotten stuck in my head over the last few years. The Hebrew word for ‘watermelon’ has a lovely shape to it. My mom will always love the Spanish word for ‘spot remover’ and this morning I was listening to an episode of the Savage Love Podcast and Dan said the word ‘abortifacient.’ And, completely divorced from it’s meaning the word has been rolling around in my head all day.

I like the ratio of consonants to vowels. It’s fun to spell in sign language. And as a service to the word, which I’m sure doesn’t get much love in every day use I’m devoting 265 words to it right here.

James Deen: Part… A Lot

Yesterday I got another comment on my post about James Deen and I just had to share it.

Heres the kind of stuff your “Feminist” hero James Deen is into: http://www.redtube.com/312795

He makes the Steubenville football team look like Gloria Steinem. Anyone who would be “glad” her daughter was into that is human scum, and probably a child abuser. So congrats, youve turned Feminism into a sham!

For anyone above 50, new to the internet, or just vanilla DO NOT go haphazardly clicking on that link. That is some hardcore porn of the hardcore-iest variety.

More specifically it’s a link to a gangbang (1 gal, many guys) starring a woman called Princess Donna and featuring James Deen.

Now, among the many things this commenter (lets call him Marty) is missing is that Princess Donna directs porn. This of course isn’t a reason to gangbang her. The reason in this case is that she asked for it. You know, in the only way a woman ever can ask for sex, with her words.

I will say that I didn’t much like the “pizza delivery” scene (you know, this safe-for-work part) which felt a little Stubenville-y to me and was not anything like any fantasy of mine. However there is a reason for that. It wasn’t a fantasy of mine; it was a fantasy of hers.

If you go to the beginning of the video you see an interview with Princess Donna where she doesn’t just agree to be in the film but we find out that she personally selected the director and told him exactly what she wants the setup to be.

And here is the kicker, the thing that tells me not just how much Marty missed but how he was looking in the completely wrong place. In the interview she talks about an experience where she had been on a roof with a bunch of strange men at a party and had gotten nervous something would happen. In the real life version of events she got scared because they were strangers, some more people came up to the roof, the situation diffused itself and she ran back down to the party. Because that shit is scary.

However since then she has been fantasizing about the experience going a different way. In fact at the end of the video (if you don’t want to see any sex, and I wouldn’t blame you, skip to 1:09:00) she says that her favorite part of the experience was the beginning because it was so much like her personal experience on the roof (AKA, thank you director for giving me exactly what I ASKED for with my words).

In the real life version where she had no control over what the guys would do, shit was scary and she didn’t want to be there. But this wasn’t real life, this was porn. This was a woman, a woman who directs BDSM porn like this, who has seen it up close and personal, walking into a space, hiring a director she likes, and (I imagine) men she likes (in fact in that final interview we hear that she and Deen have an off-camera relationship of some kind that we can gather isn’t very vanilla), and then having them do what she wants done to her.

Deen (and 7 other guys) did to her exactly what she asked them to do (with her WORDS, not her skirt) maybe even in writing (and I would bet money that there was an agreed upon safeword in play) and then she got paid for the evidence and probably a big reputation boost at work. The Stubenville football team did what they wanted to an unconscious underage girl who never asked for any of it and then used the evidence to bully and shame her.

Once again consent is what makes all the difference. And if you, Marty, couldn’t tell the difference between the entire conversation which constituted her consent and a troop of boys passing around an unconscious girl then I urge you to do women everywhere a favor and not have sex with anyone until you learn it.

I Will Protect Your Name And Your Heart

FG favorite, Sociological Images, had an interesting post about a scene from Vampire Diaries and how we can use it as a launching point for discussions of consent.

They’re question was “does him asking ‘do you want to get out of here?’ and her affirmation count as consent?”

I’d say that her saying yes to that was her consent to get out of there with him.

Her grabbing his head and kissing him is her consent to kissing him.

Her helping to take off her dress is her consent to be dress-less.

Her throwing him on the bed and then crawling on top of him is her consent to be there with him. The rest we have to infer.

I don’t want to downplay the importance of verbal consent, but I would say that there are a lot of small consents happening throughout the scene.

That’s how I think of consent in my own sex life. And right now I want to talk about how I use consent in my sex life personally. Because one of the things that people first starting to explore sex are missing is exact how-to information on all the things we politely eupheme.

Three days into our honeymoon we found ourselves in Barnes and Noble trying to find a book to help us figure things out in the bedroom. We’d read a number of Christian books about sex prior to getting married, and they were very helpful in terms of the theological and relational aspect of sex, but not so helpful on the supremely practical “how to” aspect—and more specifically, how to do it well and mutually enjoy it. [x]

When I’m first seeing someone I test their respect for my boundaries a lot. I tell them I don’t like them paying for my food and then see if they respect it. I tell them things they should know and then ditch them if they don’t respond the way I want them to. End of story. It’s a zero tolerance policy.

I don’t stop until I’ve made it clear that my boundaries are solid, they are not going to be pushed, that I am a force to be reckoned with and that I will throw them across the room if they try to remove my shirt before I’m ready.

And then, when they’ve cleared all those hurdles, I let them know that they can push me and I’ll say stop if or when I have to.

This isn’t the right thing for everyone and it doesn’t happen immediately but it works for me. And it works because I know myself and the minute I’m uncomfortable I let the “St” sound out of my mouth and in the blink of an eye I am un-handed. And that is my favorite form of consent. That is what makes me feel safe and sexy and cared for.

She’ll Love This

INTERVIEWER: Give me one of your purely satisfying mean moments.
TINA FEY: The first thing that comes to mind is a more recent one, when Amy Poehler and I were in the airport last week in Toronto and we were getting hassled by this middle-aged businessman who was doing that thing that middle-aged businessmen do, being rude. And then Amy, in the middle of the airport, screamed, “Fuck you, you fuckin’ dick, you fuckin’ rich asshole.” And it was so satisfying—it was immediate release. She would probably be mortified that I told you. (x)

One of the greatest joys in life is the gift of knowing someone well enough that you know what they would do in a given situation.

To see their name pop up on your phone after an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and know what you’re about to hear.

It’s the best feeling, to know and to be known.

How long has it been since I said how much I love my non-romantic loved ones?

Super-Goat Lady

Sometimes being a super Capricorn makes me feel a lot better about myself.

Man, goats just do not give a fuck. [x]

At my new job I’ve been trying to be really helpful, loudly. One of the actresses came out of her dressing room very calmly, handed me something and said “You don’t do well with boredom do you?”

Slap in the face.

So I’ve been trying to relax a little more. Not die by the show, and so on. I think it’s been appreciated. And an unexpected side effect, now, instead of me trying to rustle everyone up, they just come to me. I guess it’s true what they say about flies and honey.

Fly With Me My Meadowlark!

The other night I went to a party and ran into a friend, a coworker, an acquaintance I used to know and still work with occasionally.

We did that thing where you walk into the party, lock eyes and immediately know that you’re gonna make out at some point. That heat is just there. So we hung out, we talked alone and in groups. We had cocktails. We did all the old-acquaintance-at-a-party things and then we left the party to get drinks somewhere else with another friend.

Add some wine, subtle touches and a mutual friend whispering in my ear about how good he looks in tight pants and after a fantastically romcom moment we were making out on the side of the street. A good kisser, very good. On the whole a fun night, completely harmless, I wouldn’t mind if he calls but I won’t die if he doesn’t. (And they say hookup culture is ruining our society!)

Then I got on the long train ride home and didn’t feel quite guilty, more confused. What did the Yankee and I agree to back when we were talking about open relationships? The conversation was long and good but what had we decided? Will he be upset?

So tonight I was over at the Yankees and I did what I do best when I have to admit something. I blurted. I paused the movie and said “I made out with my friend last night. And it made me realize that I don’t know what our boundaries are.”

He said “That’s because we don’t have boundaries. Heh. Listen, I want you to do whatever makes you happy and if that includes other casual stuff then I don’t need to know about all of it unless its a really good story or something you want me to know. Just let me know if anything turns serious. Okay?”

I nodded and we resumed the movie. And I’ve never liked him more.

Having the freedom to choose makes me want to show how much I care. Makes me like him more. Even if that includes other people. Fancy that.

I have a friend who told her boyfriend that she likes to kiss people at parties sometimes and that if he’s not down with that then he should get out now because she’s not planning on changing.

I’ve never understood her more.

To me, the thing we describe as cheating is lack of respect for boundaries that have been discussed and agreed on, or disregard for a partner’s needs that have been perceived or expressed. I had to learn (by hurting people and getting hurt) that communicating about feelings and setting boundaries for a relationship is important, and that boundaries may change over the course of a relationship.

Stoya on the Pitfalls of Heteronormativity and Monogamy | VICE United States [x]