posts to come in the next few weeks

1. My experience as an amateur dog sitter.
2. a day without my cell phone
3. musings on the fall tv lineup
4. How the Tri-Cities has given me yet another reason to not move back and teach there.
5. My parents. They're getting old.

Get excited people.

Summary of Summer: a few conclusions

1. Criticizing a female politician isn't sexist as often as we say it is. It's just, in most cases, leveling the playing field.

2. If I don't put a pile away before it becomes a pile, I don't stand a chance. Sorry roommates.

3. I will always be a person who has to juggle multiple responsibilities. Grad school finished? Sure I'll take on 3 other positions to fill its place.

4. Re-packaging fruits and veggies into single serving baggies creates more of a chance that I'll reach for said baggie instead of a cookie.

5. The west coast really is the best coast. Better weather, better sunshine, better bodies of water, better soda selection, better wide open spaces for road tripping. East coast is gaining ground with its occasional tally in the win column, but as of now it's not even a close race. Just don't ask me what that means for future living situations.

6. In my former life I think I was some important person's personal assistant. It's basically what I did this summer (again just one hat), but I was spankin good at it.

7. I really do want to work on my book goal before hitting 30 years old. Alyssa we need to pick a topic.

8. I am becoming the perfect blend of my parents. And by perfect I mean have taken on both of their neuroses and very few of their strengths. I can look forward to a future of increasing clumsiness, lack of spelling skills, awkward double fist pumping in the heat of the moment, excessive annoyance when businesses don't answer their phones/hire idiots to answer phones, a talent to telling a 20 minute story about nothing, and a propensity to be 20 minutes late to everything. Bring it on.

Friday the 13th? time for shoes.

As someone with years of customer service experience under her belt (they don't call me the Slushie Queen for nothin), I've come to appreciate this usually thankless sector of work more than most I see. Nothing irritates me more than a pushy customer, whether it be a slightly botched order at a coffee shop or someone asking a question that could be answered by reading the large-print sign directly behind the employee being asked the question, usually at a louder than necessary volume.

As I work towards the Skinny Bitches 2011 program, I was in dire need of new tennis shoes. (I refuse to call them sneakers. It's too 1986). So as I perused the outlet mall last weekend with some friends, my eyes perked up at my preferred pair marked down by $10, enough to get me in the door of Famous Footwear. I tried on the 9 and, discouragingly, walked up to the front counter to place a home order for a half-size bigger. I had scoured the rack and its adjoining area for the size but saw no victory in sight for that day, but figured the sale was enough to motivate me to order them. As the woman scanned the box, her eyes lit up: "We have one pair in the size you need, according to the computer. We're going to find it." Now in most retail encounters, this would not have been the outcome. 10 minutes before the store is closing is not when most employees are at their peak energy level, especially not to dig through boxes to find a misplaced pair of Nikes.

After 10 minutes of insisting the home order would be fine, the other sales associate walked confidently to the front and said "these babies? you're taking them home tonight" as she handed her partner in crime the requested size. I was beside myself. Years of experience have taught me that another size is NEVER in the back and asking usually just annoys everyone in the store, customer and employee alike. But these two women, without overdramatised fuss or sounds of exasperation, calmly and confidently went above the call of duty.

So thank you, sales associates No. 1 and 2 at the Arundel Mills Famous Footwear on May 13th. I didn't get a chance to look at your nametags and my receipt didn't identify you by name, either. But at least someone should know that you made this service sector alumna proud.

after 3/4 a container of hummus and a diet coke...

I feel content about...
My current accessories collection. After a life of neglecting them, I've accumulated a quite well rounded selection of necklaces, belts, and rings (although most people here would say the ring situation is out of control). Stacey and Clinton would be so proud.

I feel frustrated by...
Birthers. As I watch Anderson Cooper yet again basically call them all liars and frauds, I can't help but think we have much bigger fish to fry than what year a typewriter could have potentially been created that might prove the type in one box of the certificate of live birth is forged. Move on, people.

I feel ambivalent about...
The royal wedding. I don't really follow celebrity weddings in the first place, let alone one British celebrity to one normal person in a ceremony that will be at the ass crack of dawn. Again, move on people.

I feel liberated by...
Skirt weather. My calves are tired of being secluded from all daylight.

I feel unsure about...
The economy. Luckily Baltimore isn't a school district that (as of now) is laying off a large quantity of teachers, but as I look at the federal government basically scrambling for loose change in the couch and China sitting in its high-backed leather chair at a mahogany desk with a shifty sneer on its face, I can't help but wonder if I should be stockpiling bottled water and Spam in our sketchy basement.

Spring Cleaning: 2011

Once I finish another bazillion loads of laundry I'll finally be able to do what I've need to do for the past 6 months: the closet purge. I've been telling myself that I'm out of hangers and can go this long without totally having laundry done because I'm in between seasons (it's been a record cold spring in Baltimore) or because most of my wardrobe is work and play appropriate; cardigans are the best invention for business casual since the trouser jean.

But as I look around at my perpetually cluttered life, I can't help but wonder if I just keep clutter, or in this case clothes, around because I'm scared of the possibility of losing the possibility. The possibility that if I just could find the perfect outfit it would somehow be the game changer in a situation. I obsess before an event or outing that I want to blend in while standing out, that I won't be too formal or too casual but at the same time won't look like everyone else. That somehow having 10 options to choose from means that the one perfect option will have to be in the mix. And that getting rid of these possibilities would mean getting rid of that one option, that one day could have made the difference somehow.

This is why I usually have to enlist consultants (Sarah or little bacon, in most cases), when the purge arrives. I need someone else to convince me that the dress really does make you look fat, or holding on to the 4th grade soccer trophy won't change the fact that you really sucked at soccer and they give every kid a trophy.

I haven't decided on a number yet for this year's purge. But I know that it's just plain selfish at this point to keep buying hangers instead of investing in the life I live in the clothes. Anyone sizes 8-12 is welcome to take dibs on the results.

questions no one bothered to answer

I try to be OK with not being a "real" journalist for the time being. I really do. But when I see HUNDREDS of stories covering the avoided government shutdown, I expect to find at least one that goes beyond just "but what will we do about the cherry blossom festival?" Here are my suggestions for interviews, in place of regurgitating press releases, or (and how no one thinks plagiarism isn't a problem is lost on me) regurgitating other people's reporting without citing it:

1. What part of the budget allows for senators and representatives to be paid in a government shutdown, but not their staffers who do most of the actual work?

2. What would be the cost comparison of one day of missiles used in Libya to the combined budgets of Planned Parenthood, NPR, Teach for America, and Head Start? I can guess on this one without even asking a low-level appropriations intern.

3. Who forgot to change the desk calendar in Donald Trump's office? I'm pretty sure it's still stuck on April 1st.

4. How are some conservatives, who are so bend on sticking to the Constitution, reconciling making funds illegal for an act that the Supreme Court has deemed Constitutionally legal?

5. What is the process for admonishing elected officials for lying on the Congressional floor?

Luckily at least one staffer at the Washington POst came through with a great feature on the Capitol's "non-essential" staff and the shutdown's potential impact on them. Now if only the other 99 stories could bring their A game.

April Fool's: a one act play

On the phone with my parents:

Dad: So, what are we gonna do on Friday? (They're coming to visit this week and I took the day off)
Me: Not sure yet, I have some stuff I need to do in the morning.
Dad: Like what? We're going to that Quaker school in the morning
Me: Yeah yeah I know, but I think I'll need to just drop you off so mom and I can take care of something.
Mom: ooh, what?
Me: Well I have an ultrasound.
(long pause) Mom: you're shitting me. Ok so what's the real news, did you total your car?
Me: Um, no. I mean I was gonna tell you guys when you got here but I really want you to come.
Dad: (silence)
Mom: you're shitting me. (long pause and heavy sigh) Oh, Joy. Oh, Joy. Oh, Joy. So what's your plan?
Me: I mean I didn't plan it. We just had those snow days and you know it happened.
(more heavy sighs from mom. Still silence from Dad)
Mom: Ok, well is the other participant involved at this point?
Me: Well he probably would be if I had remembered his name...

I had to break it off after about 10 minutes because my roommate was literally crying in hysterical laughter, and I was worried they'd show up tomorrow with a priest and every translation of the Bible in tow. It's all about quality over quantity when it comes to April Fools.

a lesson of compromise

Let's face it: no one who gives a hoot about politics is happy right now.

Ok, well Republicans might be happy. I'm sure my dad could explain how this is somehow "finally getting the liberal elite to examine their own hypocrisy." Usually I just put the phone on speaker and go about the rest of my life for 20 minutes or so until he realizes he's in a conversation...

Between Wisconsin, Planned Parenthood, Birthers, "forcible rape," guns in bars, and anti-Islamic legislation, it would be easy for me to go Crips-style and just start ignoring red states. The amount of energy I've used lately sitting on my couch sighing versions of "what the hell goes through some people's minds," has, quite frankly, taken away my normal sighing allowances for things like the Kardashians. And we all know how important those crazy ladies are to this great thing we call democracy.

So, in honor of taking the high road from the "You Lie!" and "Mama Grizzlie" crowd, I kept an open mind while watching a recent Daily Show interview with Kentucky Senator Rand Paul. And, as much as it disturbed the little liberal lady somewhere near my uterus (since that's the only place she knows conservatives aren't going to try and remove her from) wanted to heckle sexual innuendos about the Tea Party, I told her to give it a full term and hear him out.

And while Jon Stewart will be the first person to tell you he is not a journalist, this is the most sensible interview I've seen with a politician in quite some time. I think 50 percent of my respect comes from the seemingly simple fact he doesn't compare anyone to a Nazi. And I can admit, Paul makes a lot of sense. Just don't tell my father I said so...

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Exclusive - Rand Paul Extended Interview Pt. 1
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog The Daily Show on Facebook

Find the rest of the interview here.

even women have things we could improve. But just slightly.

Update: Thursday's column from Gail Collins looks at the recently released White House study on the status of American Women. Check this Saturday's Gender Report for full analysis of the results.

At a recent Teach for America conference, I had the drooling privilege of hearing Gloria Steinem speak about the ingredients needed for effective social change. A friend asked "what's the big deal about her?" My first response was shock, that this well-educated woman didn't know to fall at this icon's feet in idolatry. But then I found myself searching for a concrete explanation of just what exactly Steinem did for the women's movement. I came up blank. And ashamed.

I also did not previously know that March is Women's History Month. (In one of my prouder moments, it was a male student who informed me that the end of Black History Month meant the start of the month for "chicks and shit".) I honestly don't know how this could have happened. I proudly attended public school for 2nd-12th grade, in a school who's leadership class made sure to highlight the chosen minority or cause of the month with yellow butcher paper at every corner. I can't tell you how many times Langston Hughes poetry suddenly greeted me in the hallway, or on the turning of a calendar I was supposed to start caring about breast cancer or eating disorders.

I honestly feel like, despite my zeal for women's health and political issues, I have a fairly weak grasp of the full scope of women's history as it plays out in the United States. We get a dose of Susan B. Anthony, Sacajawea and Pocahontas are the sexy exotic heroines, toss around a few Seneca Falls references, shatter the glass ceiling with our 76 cents to the dollar, and call it a day. With all the pushes for more diversity in education, women seem to still be the missing voice. I can't remember the discussion of a single female scientist (Madame Curie didn't come until college), mathematician, explorer, wartime hero, or politician. That's not to say they weren't in the curriculum, but most were probably delegated to the glossy info boxes on the side of the page that said "these people don't warrant attention in the normal narrative of history but we have to cover our bases." Maybe if we just put enough women on fancy coins people will catch on...

So I'm taking history into my own hands. The National Women's History Project has a fantastic Resource Center with dense but pithy pages about the women's right movement, biographies of note, highlights of women of color, and national events surrounding women's history.

I'm also reading Gail Collins' America's Women, a look at 400 years of women's history in the United States. So hopefully the next time someone asks me who Gloria Steinem is, I can not only tell them in detail, but explain her place in the bigger story.

Here are some other resources and literature that have anchored my passion for feminism, for those of you looking to stoke your fires:

Nonfiction:
The Feminine Mystique, by Betty Friedan
Half the Sky, by Nikolas Kristof

Literature:
The Handmaid's Tale, by Margaret Atwood
Their Eyes Were Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston
the poetry of Adrienne Rich
Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf
I Am Charlotte Simmons, by Tom Wolfe

Also, an especially poignant op-ed in today's NYT showed the danger of not focusing on the complete narratives of gender issues and rather isolating issues into gender-exclusive territory.

Just under the wire: Oscar predictions

As I've written before, I've become somewhat of a movie whore. At least three times in the past month my dad has called for recommendations, to which I usually respond "I don't really think it's 'your' type of movie, dad." But I thought I'd season the popcorn with a shake of narcissism and give you some suggestions for the Oscars tonight (we'll see how close I come0:

1. Best Picture
Bacon's pick: The Kids are All Right
Academy's pick: The King's Speech
It always seems like the Oscars try to find the most obscure historical events and blast them into the headlines with a sweep of the awards. In this case, I wouldn't mind the accolades for this film. However, my pick is based on what I saw as the best overall film on the list in terms of both leading and supporting actors, screenplay (it makes me want to write movies), cinematography, and directing. If you didn't see it, the DVD is well worth the time. (Also in the name of full disclosure I haven't seen "127 hours" or "Winter's Bone" yet, so I don't really have a basis for their judgment except if I haven't seen it yet, it probably wasn't a top contender).

2. Best Actor
Bacon and Academy's Pick: Colin Firth
One of the best acted roles I've seen in quite some time, especially in a historical drama. He managed to pull of pity for his character without sliding into cheesy. Hard to do, especially with a British accent.

3. Best Actress
Bacon's Pick: Annette Bening or Natalie Portman
Academy's Pick: Natalie Portman
Yes, I thought Black Swan was an amazing film. Yes, I think Natalie Portman went through an amazing transformation, both physically and psychologically, for the film. But I don't think that should awards should be based just on the amount of effort it took to pull off the role.

4. Supporting Actor
Bacon's Pick: Christian Bale or Geoffrey Rush
Academy's Pick: toss up
This is the one category where any of the nominees would be a well-deserved winner.

5. Supporting Actress
Bacon's Pick: Hailee Steinfeld
Academy's Pick: Melissa Leo or Hailee Steinfeld
While the women of "The Fighter" all pulled off some incredibly moving and well-acted performances, the young Ms. Steinfeld held her own cast aside both Jeff Bridges and Matt Damon, which is not easy to do even if your horse isn't dragging you through the mud in the wild west.

Left out, but still noteworthy
Several recent films that didn't find their way onto the Academy Awards nominee list are still excellent uses of 2 hours of your time. In particular I was mesmerized by "Love and Other Drugs" (and not just because of the excessive nakedness of Jake Gyllenhaal) and "The Other Woman."

my pride is on the shelf, in a good way.

The gym and I have always had a very petulant relationship. Necessary in the long term, but usually tied to lingering teenage rebellion or just general laziness. As an athlete for most of my life, I've always preferred activities to just traditional "working out." Sports, competitions, etc. But once the opportunity for intramurals or an impromptu Frisbee game weren't options anymore in my new "adult" life, I buckled down and joined a real gym.

Now Baltimore is a place where you are either a fitness crazy or a a fitness cringer. Part of this is due to the dicotomy of the reiging gay man vs. the daily chicken box consumption. Falling somewhere in the middle of these two extremes, I was reluctant to work out at one of the "fancy" gyms where everyone already looks like they only eat 4 crackers a day. I finally settled on the YMCA right down the street, and have found my comfort zone. It has most of the full equipment of any high-class fitness club, but also offers a daily dose of reality. I can walk into a core conditioning class knowing I won't be the skinniest person in the room by a long shot, but also have made more progress than the woman behind me making orgasm-like noises with every leg lift (to which the rest of us cracked up laughing and the instructor stopped class because she was also laughing so hard.) If I went to yoga, I wouldn't be the only person who falls over more than once. It's real people, genuinely working their asses off. Literally.

It's also a great way to support a dying community asset. Baltimore doesn't have many community centers, and the Y is one of the few places where you can find an open gym time, a children's climbing wall, and craft classes all in the same low-cost building. I like that my Zumba fees are going to more than just the pockets of some corporate mogul. Now if only I would get my butt to the library more often...

I was proud to be an American. Just don't tell Sarah Palin.

Living close to our nation's capital never gets old for me. Well, maybe when I was on the 18th semi-historical place where Abraham Lincoln stroked his beard, then it got old. But the symbolism of D.C. still catches me off guard sometimes.

As I was waiting for a Whitworth alumni event with a friend in the city, we walked across Lafayette Square to the "little" side of the White House. For those not familiar with the view, it's the opposite side from what's usually considered the money shot. Gathered in front of the gate, about 150 or so people were engaged in a protest/rally supporting the protests in Egypt. Now in full disclosure, I've always been of the mindset that a person of a foreign country can never really understand the true emotions, motivations, or unrest that leads to such powerful organization against someone else's government/leaders. Nor do I think media coverage of such events is anywhere close to balanced, in either direction. No matter how hard you try as a writer or photographer, you end up choosing a bad guy.

But the reports poured in of internet censorship, government force, and worldwide consequences for foreign relations and economies, I couldn't help but be proud of the sight in front of me. Police quietly blockading traffic from interfering with the demonstration. A bystander clapping along to the English/Arabic chants. A mother taking a family photo of four generations in front of the crowd, her small children clothed in their native flag. And all in the shadow, shouting distance, of our President's home and office. I don't get on the "let's cover our monster trucks in stars and stripes" train very often. But I'd rather wade through the noise of opposition and political dissent, however antagonizing and sometimes downright crazy it is, than take a pair of government-controlled waders to make the job "easier."

A new blogging venture

Anyone who spends more than about 5 minutes with me knows I'm a huge proponent for gender equality. And no, that doesn't mean I think women should take over every CEO position and every political race with no concern for the Y chromosomes of the world. We should be FAMILY LEAVE, people.

As a way to further explore these issues, as well as take an opportunity to work on a writing project with my Whitworth journalism partner in crime, we have started The Gender Report. While it is not as focused on commentary as I would be on this site, I think many of you will still find it reeks of bacon. Different posts include daily Gender Checks, looking at the balance of bylines and sources used in print and online sources in 4 major regions of the country, as well as a News Feed with relevant headlines and happenings around the world.

As a result, the frequency of my shaking and baking may become a bit diminished. We launched the site last week and so far have seen a great reception and following start to build. But don't worry, the minutes I see another fashion disaster such as the pajama jean or spring cleaning reflections, I'll be sure to share.

if newspapers still paid for quirky features

I would write about street flower salespeople. Baltimore is the first place I have seen these individuals in the actual streets (as opposed to just a curbside operation). Politely weaving in and out of cars on 29th and 33rd, they always smile and give me a thumbs up as I wait for the light to change. Not asking for a handout, nor a pity purchase, just a friendly offer of bouquets wrapped in plastic. Sometimes ribbon is involved.

I would find Eduardo, or Rafael, as I imagine he is named, a rags-to-riches hopeful who wakes at dawn to carefully arrange his bouquets of roses or non-descript daisy look-a-likes that men can use to beg forgiveness, charm a second date, or use to get out of going to his girlfriend's best friend's Pictionary game night. I would describe how they have stories for each of their flowers, recommendations for colors and particular arrangements based on the kind of car you drive. I would hunt down their wholesale distributor, and ask just how lucrative the streetside flower sales industry is these days (as it could be impolite or not necessarily accurate to ask the salespeople themselves).

Maybe it would be an NPR feature and I could hone in on the audio of the cars rushing by and the rustling of the cellophane against his windbreaker sleeve. Or maybe more of a Frontline spot, with video of his shuffling feet and the typical "no thanks" hand up from a stopped driver. Either way it will end with a pithy quote about how he feels about his life and what he looks for in the future, or, if I'm lucky, some metaphor he comes up with for how flowers help us relate to the world around us.

Keep your eyes out for it, my friends.