Categories
me things that are hard to write

It’s okay to…

(An non-exhaustive list of things I wish I had figured out twenty years ago.)

It’s okay to:

  • say I don’t know.
  • say I was wrong.
  • dance even if you suck at it. Especially if you suck at it.
  • be gay.
  • be alone.
  • be unpopular, because you will always have at least one true friend cheering for you even if you don’t realize it at the time.
  • run at your own pace.
  • not fit societal beauty standards.
  • not want to fit societal beauty standards.
  • depend on other people.
  • not be okay.
  • make mistakes. In fact, you’re better off making mistakes, it’s how you learn.
  • not like things (as long as you’re not a dick about it).
  • like things, with enthusiasm and passion, even if other people don’t understand.
  • not clean your plate.
  • sweat, and have pimples, and fart, and grow body hair. You’re a goddamn human being.
  • be a dork.
  • spill food on your shirt. It doesn’t mean you’re a slob or a pig, and there’s this awesome stuff called Oxi-clean.
  • cry.
  • be yourself, once you figure out who that is.
Categories
movie

[Movie] 12 Years a Slave

12 Years a Slave is an absolutely brutal movie. It gives the audience no breathing room and no escape from the horrors of slavery on full display; not just violence, but the twisting of relationships, the abuse of power, the dehumanization. Director Steve McQueen is fond of letting scenes run long, far longer than where you’d expect there to be a cut to spare us some stomach-clenching cringing.

Which is at it should be, considering the absolute injustice and horror of what is often termed “America’s original sin.”

That phrase sprang to mind often as I watched the movie, because the other word I’d use to describe it is beautiful. Steve McQueen lets the landscape of the south speak volumes in long shots of moving water, reeds, or trees covered in spanish moss. It’s this last that makes the beauty feel distinctly sepulchral. The landscape is haunted.

The horror of 12 Years a Slave is in what humans do to each other, in the evil lies of justification they tell themselves, and what was pitilessly done to an entire people. The story of the film is built on betrayal after betrayal, from the foundation up when Solomon (Chiwetel Ejiofor, who is utterly perfect) is tricked to coming to Washington, DC in order to be drugged and sold into slavery in sight of the US capitol. Near the beginning, a plantation owner’s wife says to an enslaved woman who has just had her family broken up, “Something to eat and some rest, your children will soon be forgotten.” Even that is a casual, terrible brutality.

Hans Zimmer’s soundtrack was good–as usual, come on, it’s Hans Zimmer–but far more striking were the silences in the movie, where there’s nothing but the sound of insects, of wind, of people crying out. In one scene, Solomon is hanged from a tree with his feet just barely touching the ground so he can just manage to breathe. And he’s left there for nearly the whole day in a long, endless scene that made me want to beg for mercy so I could look away. There is no dialog in that scene, no music, nothing but the sound of the rope creaking, Solomon gasping for breath, the soft sound of his feet digging at the ground as he fights to stay upright and alive. These silences, too, are absolutely brutal.

But 12 Years a Slave is also about survival in the face of these horrors, about one man fighting against despair for twelve years. Early on, Solomon says he doesn’t want to survive–he wants to live. And later: “You let yourself be overcome by sorrow, you will drown in it.” That he maintains some sense of hope as he is repeatedly betrayed and brutalized is the truest beauty of the film.

This is a movie filled with more truth than is easy to stomach. More truth than I could handle without crying, that’s for certain. But I think that’s what makes it important.

Categories
cycling my exciting life

Remember that time I accidentally biked almost 80 miles? Yeah, that was great.

IMG_20131110_132726_740

I had this plan for my Sunday. I was going to do the Red, White and Bike Annual Bike for Little Heroes today. Probably the short course (~20 miles) or if I was feeling really froggy I’d maybe do the 36 mile course. You have to understand, in the last month and a half I have quite literally ridden my bike once, which was yesterday when I did 10 miles to make certain my bike was still functional and the chain didn’t need to be greased.

Well, that plan got scrapped the minute I arrived at the event and found my normal riding group. Scott and Alex are evil geniuses and we are all screwed if they ever start cooking meth or something. They arm-twisted me into doing the full course, then shamed me into keeping going when the hills (THERE ARE HILLS NEAR HOUSTON NO REALLY) had me completely demoralized. I really need to learn to fight peer pressure like my DARE officer told me to in junior high.

I don’t think I’ll be able to move tomorrow. I’ve already hit the stage where I can’t stand up without groaning. But I rode nearly 80 miles today, without training for it.

It just makes me think about how important it is when you do something scary for the first time. I rode a century (100 miles) for the first time this year, and also ran a 5k. Before I did those things, I was always intimidated by the idea of doing that kind of mileage. But now that I’ve done them, that block is gone. I know I can do it. I ran a bit over 5k a couple of times in London, and then once I got home just because I knew I could do it and it wouldn’t totally destroy my knees. And now this, because I knew that it was possible for me to do 100 miles and not die. (This time it was just much, much harder.)

It was a bit like that, the first time I submitted a story to a magazine. I got rejected and it didn’t kill me, so I knew I could do it again.

That’s why it’s important to try new things. Whether you succeed or not, it proves that something which seemed so scary can’t possibly kill you. It takes away the fear, because either you beat it once, or it didn’t beat you. It really does make you stronger.

Categories
movie

[Movie] Man of Tai Chi

So, this movie has a lot of major assumptions to swallow. The most difficult of which is probably Keanu Reeves being an evil martial arts badass that makes people fight to the death for the entertainment of his patrons. And that he lives in an evil Batcave.

Yeah.

No one in this movie seems to believe tai chi is capable of being awesome. Even in a martial arts tournament. I can only assume that none of these characters has ever watched an actual kung fu movie. Tai chi masters are always the biggest badasses to ever badass in those things.

Other than that, it’s a very standard boy learns tai chi, boy doesn’t listen to his master, boy betrays his master and then learns the awesome tai chi technique where you punch someone with your chi and make them vomit blood and thus suddenly knows the True Meaning Of Tai Chi. Only this involved Keanu Reeves looking like he wanted to rob a bank.

I thought the tai chi looked pretty awesome. Mike didn’t complain, though Mike is currently also very sick so he might not have had the strength. There was a sort of meaningless subplot where the police tried to hunt down the underground fighting ring, and it was all really a framework upon which to hang fight after fight.

The fights were… all right. Not bad. Not really good enough to distract me too long from tumblr. But it was nice to see a movie where tai chi was the focus and you could actually see it in action beyond moving very, very slowly. I don’t know if it was $8 worth of nice from On Demand, though.

Categories
feminism sexism

The paralyzing guilt of being good at math

I’m okay at math. Or at least I was. I haven’t done anything more difficult than long division and some statistics in years, and the thing about math is that it’s a language. If you don’t use it, you tend to forget how to do it. (Though conversely it’s easier to pick back up on the second go round.)

I almost ended up going for an applied mathematics minor to go with my bachelor’s degree. The reason I didn’t was because one of the geologists I worked with at the time pulled me aside and laid down some truth: How much do you really like math, Rachael? Eh, not that much. Well, if you get any kind of degree, even a minor in math, and it gets around the office you’re working in, you will be The Math Guy. All of the other geologists will fling the math at you in the hopes it will stick, so they don’t have to do it, because geologists are lazy. So unless you want to spend the rest of your life doing math, get a minor in something else.

I followed his advice. I didn’t get a minor in something else, I got a second major in Japanese Language and Culture. (Still waiting for the other geologists to fling their Japanese stuff at me. So far, no luck.) I might have been okay at math, with the potential to be good at it, but I never really liked it. Not enough that I wanted to keep doing math outside of a context that involved a hot Russian doctoral candidate teaching us three dimensional solids.

I was telling my friend John Dee about this while we were hanging out in the Oklahoma City airport and waiting for our flights. Yeah, John, I was almost the math guy. And I was trying to articulate to him how I still sometimes feel a little guilty that I’m not the math guy, entirely because I’m a woman.

It’s a weird, weird thing to think about, but there can be a lot of pressure you feel, if you’re a woman who is even peripherally interested in math, engineering, or science.

Because this is the thing. When you’re a woman, you spend a lot of time getting told by the media, by your peers, even by teachers, that girls just aren’t good at math. Our ladybrains can’t handle it, because logic! And masculine things! And we’re diaphanous right-brained creatures of art and emotions (and presumably bullshit). Math is a Man Thing. And then from the other side you hear over and over and over again that there are not enough women doing science, engineering, and math. Because no shit we can do it, so we have to overcome the institutional barriers in or way.

(And then this traitorous voice in your head asks, do I not like doing math because I don’t actually like doing it, or because the patriarchy has convinced me in its horrid, insidious way that I shouldn’t, just like I’m still deep down emotionally convinced that I hate my body?)

I was actually interested in doing geophysics instead of pure geology, when I went back to Uni for my bachelors. Then the undergrad counselor pulled me aside and basically said the program was just way too hard, and way too much math. I have no idea if he ever gave that line to a man who was interested in geophysics. Ultitmately, I’m also glad I didn’t decide to keep going and beat my head against those physics classes (because I would have, I’m damn stubborn sometimes, and it would have been miserable), but thinking about it still makes me so angry I could spit nails.

It feels almost like, if you can prove people wrong, then you should. Like there’s some kind of obligation to not let the side down and give the essentialist nonsense more fuel. Like you have something to prove on behalf of an entire unfairly maligned gender. Only you know it will never be enough proof to get those guys to shut the hell up.

I don’t want to do math. What’s wrong with that? Why should I feel compelled to spend my life doing something I don’t like just because some impotent, bald asshole wants to believe he’s superior by grace of chromosomal lottery? (And where did this secondary bullshit narrative come from, that math as an academic topic is somehow more worthy a pursuit than geology, or literature, or dance for that matter?)

There are days when I really do wish I had a math minor on my diploma, just so I could wrap that paper around my fist and then punch anyone who says girls can’t do math. Fuck you, I can do math. I just choose to not. Which is a million times better than being an condescending asshole and choosing to open your damn mouth.

Life is really too short for this nonsense, and I resent that it’s still got its claws sunk into my brain. Do what you’re good at, as long as it’s what you love.

Categories
movie tom hiddleston

[Movie] Thor: The Dark World

[Seven pages of frantic key smashing later…]

I will keep myself pretty spoiler free for now. There is SO MUCH MORE I want to say, but I need to think, and not have two extremely generous beers flowing through my bloodstream, and see this movie a few more times before I can reach Pacific Rim levels of nerdly overthinking.

As usual for these kinds of movies, there is a MacGuffin. And it’s a silly MacGuffin, though not quite to the level of red matter thank goodness. But the McGuffin really doesn’t matter in the slightest. What matters is that this movie is having fun. And you get to have fun with it. The Dark World filled me with Nutella-flavored glee.

And it’s pretty. Oh gosh is it pretty. And so much snark. So, so much snark. This is the movie I wanted in every way.

I’d actually started getting worried that it would be a bit too much Loki (yes, I do believe there is such a thing despite the fact that he’s my favorite You Little Shit of a character ever) just considering the released footage and the fact that you literally cannot turn around without seeing Tom Hiddleston promoting the movie, to the point that it would almost be a bit creepy if he weren’t an adorable life model decoy made out of sunshine, curly blond hair, and swan-murder. But no. The amount of Loki is perfect and viciously jocund.

And Jane is most excellent. Have I mentioned I like Jane? Because science. This movie finally made me buy Thor/Jane, which I appreciate after being left in such a state of Meh after the first movie. Jane got to be the smart, strong in her own way character I always wanted her to be.

Really, I don’t have a lot of complaints other than I would have always loved more. At least we got a bit of time with all of the side characters. (Darcy-senpai!) They did the best they could cramming that much awesome into 112 minutes. The movie definitely didn’t feel that long, which is always a very good sign. The only reason I knew time was passing as such were the increasingly plaintive signals of distress coming from my bladder. (I did mention the two generous beers thing, yes?) And it had a bonus unexpected mini-heist movie right in the middle because why the hell not. Really, I’d love to see a bit more genre play like that, it was fun.

And there are some excellent cameos that made me repeatedly slap my housemate’s leg but it’s okay she still likes me anyway. If you liked the first Thor, I have little doubt you’ll like this one even more. Because this movie is honestly more fun, and determined in that special way Marvel movies have mastered to be a motherfucking comic book movie, exuberant and larger than life and unabashedly cheesey.

Stay all the way to the end of the credits. All the way. There are two extra scenes. (Marvel, this is getting a bit silly, when will it end?)

Categories
my exciting life the human body is made of bullshit

Tattoo Rash (The Human Body Is Made of Bullshit)

I’m normally not one to talk about my various biological issues on my blog, but I kind of feel like I should mention this one. When it happened to me and I was frantically googling to find out if my skin was about to explode and cause me to die, I had a hell of a time finding anything and I was scared half to death.

So this is what happened:

While I was in London–the day we interviewed Elliot Grove, actually–I got hit by sudden, painful, oh sweet Aphrodite let me scrub it with a wire brush why god why itching on my right arm. Specifically on my new-ish tattoo, which at that point I’d had for nearly a month with no adverse effects. And even stranger, it wasn’t even the entire tattoo–it was just under one particular circular area, the stylized galaxy on my right forearm.

It was weird, and sudden, and I had a minor freak out because I though it might be some kind of insect bite, and oh shit what if it was bed bugs. Though I quickly realized that made no sense at all, because why the hell would bug just bite me on that one spot, and only where I had ink?

The itching got continuously worse, and the skin in that area got very inflamed. I actually stopped wanting to scratch it pretty quickly just because it was so damn painful, to the point that wearing my shirtsleeves down felt like scrubbing that bit of my skin with sandpaper.

What little I could find with google indicated that it was likely I’d developed a random allergic reaction to something that was in the ink from the tattoo. Which did make sense, considering the rash was limited to one area, and that was the only area in any of the tattoos where I had gray ink. What I managed to glean from some random forums where other people had this issue was that it would probably go away in a few weeks on its own (argh), but if not I might have to have the tattoo removed(!!!!).

I’m happy to report I haven’t had to get the tattoo removed. And the rash has now officially gone away. I don’t know if it was environmental or what, since it felt like it got a little bit better as soon as I left London. Guess I’ll find out on that one when I go back to the UK for Christmas.

Mostly, I just want to tell you, if you get a random tattoo-related rash, it will most likely be okay. Here’s what you do:

  1. Do not freak out.
  2. DO NOT ITCH.
  3. Take some kind of allergy medication. I used Claritin (generic: Loratadine) which didn’t make the rash go away, but made it significantly less itchy to the point that I lasted the next two weeks without losing my goddamn mind. If you can take Benadryl (generic: Diphenhydramine) without being completely fucked up by it, you might want to give that a whirl.
  4. I had some limited success with using hydrocortisone cream on the rash. However, what really seemed to make a difference was when I got home and had access to a different (stronger) steroid ointment that I have via prescription (I normally use it to treat eczema I occasionally get on my hands and feet). Which brings us to:
  5. If you can do so easily and cheaply, just go to a dermatologist and get something prescribed to treat the itching.
  6. Wait for the rash to go away.
  7. If it hasn’t gone away in three weeks, definitely go to the dermatologist.

My rash started getting less awful after about a week, which just so happened to coincide with when I got home and had access to my better steroid ointment. (We have a slight and unanswerable correlation/causation issue here, I’m afraid.) After a week of self-treating with the ointment and claritin, I’m off both and just fine. Though the skin on that portion of the tattoo is a little dry and scaly, which I expect to correct on its own in a little more time.

And hopefully that’s the end of it. Random allergic reaction go go go!

Categories
convention steampunk trip report

Octopodicon

Octopodicon was my first every Steampunk convention, and I admit that I was kind of nervous. I absolutely love the steampunk aesthetic, but I am not a very fancy person myself. On of my life goals is to be a very dapper sir, but I prefer my dapperness to be a bit more… understated. Plus I’m utter crap with crafts, which doesn’t help. I went in feeling a bit intimidated, to be honest.

I don’t know what I expected–perhaps the steampunk fashion police to swoop down and judge me insufficiently punked out? Silly, in retrospect. Everyone was absolutely lovely and I never felt out of place. Rather, I was unquestioningly welcomed, and I appreciate that so very much.

Plus, I found the hats I’ve been needing all my life. YES HATS.  I now have everything I could want for all my dapper needs.

I had such a good time at this convention. The highlight of it for me was actually Saturday night. There were dance lessons, and I decided to go because I actually really like dancing even if I’m terrible at it. For a little while I thought I’d be the odd woman out, but then I ended up getting partnered with Sherry. I got to be the man because I had trousers and an awesome hat, and we waltzed and waltzed and waltzed. And then danced in a little competition and won it for Team Steampunk.

That was honestly one of the coolest moments of my life. Yes, it was just us against one other couple. But I won a dance competition. I won a freaking dance competition.

Man, I love dancing. I wish I could do it more often! But there was more dancing that day, since then there was all sorts of live performances and I danced to Darwin Prophet‘s music. [WARNING: Autoplaying music WHY DO YOU DO THIS]

Sunday was my working day; I did two panels and had a reading. I was excited that I got to do a panel with John Dee again–I got to be on a couple with him at FenCon. WE ARE AN EFFECTIVE TEAM. (You can tell because John also hates that movie.) The reading was small but went well–everyone who was there seemed to like what I read! So that was good. I also got to meet Patricia Ash of Gear Hearts Magazine–I’m hoping to write a little story for them soon.

So for a first Steampunk con, this was definitely a success. I’m looking forward to going to another soon!

Categories
colorado politics texas

Reason number five million why I miss Colorado (special voting edition)

In Colorado I was on the permanent mail-in ballot list. Several weeks before election day, I would receive my ballot in the mail without having to do anything special for it, then peruse it at my leisure and mail it back, no muss, no fuss.

Technically, they have mail-in ballots in Texas. But only if you are disabled or elderly, basically. I am thankful to not currently be either of those.

In Colorado, the other annual pre-voting day ritual I enjoyed was receiving the state blue book. This lovely pamphlet translates all the proposed amendments into plain English, provides a dry for and against argument for each, and also estimates fiscal impacts. It also told you if judges were recommended for retention. I loved that little blue book and its cheap newsprint paper.

As far as I can tell, Texas doesn’t have those either. I had no idea how spoiled I was, growing up in Colorado.

Of course, I’m still lucky and spoiled here in Texas, to the extent that (supposedly) I’m not going to have any problems with the new voter ID law. I have multiple forms of approved IDs and I didn’t change my name when I got married (not that I did that in Texas anyway). But a lot of people aren’t nearly so lucky as me. It just makes me furious whenever anyone makes it harder to vote.

Anyway, I’ll attempt to find the actual physical voting place either during lunch or after work. I hope it’s right, since I looked it up in the Harris county website. You’re supposed to get the info from http://votetexas.gov but that site has been timing out all morning so…yay?

Enjoy your little blue books and your mail-in ballots, Colorado. Throw the pages of non-partisan explanations of legalese up in the air and laugh mockingly as they flutter down around you. You have no idea how good you’ve got it.

(I am well aware there are many places in the rest of the world where people are literally dying to only be as inconvenienced as I will be today. I wish they had our problems in place of their own, I truly do.)

Categories
convention steampunk

[Octopodicon] Steampunk in Space

As promised for any Octopodicon person who might wander by, here’s links to what we talked about during Steampunk in Space.

Books/Comics

  • Starclimber by Kenneth Oppel was recommended by a member of the class. Be warned, there’s a lot of flash on this site and it makes sounds.
  • Airship Enterprise

RPGs

  • Space 1889 – Which has been fully funded on Kickstarter
  • Mage: The Ascension – Drive Thru RPG link to the core tabletop book. MtA isn’t strictly a steampunk RPG, but one of the traditions (Sons of Ether) is very steamunk – Aether ships!
  • Spelljammer

Movies/TV

  • Cowboys and Engines – Richard Hatch movie, very steampunk west. And involves Malcolm McDowell with some fabulous facial hair.
  • A Trip to the Moon/Le Voyage dans la lune – the 1902 film
  • Firefly – This was brought up often as an example of a show with a very steampunk ethos, though not necessarily the aesthetic. Though it very much has the wild west angle covered.
  • Treasure Planet – Aesthetically steampunk?
  • War of the Worlds: Goliath – Arguably dieselpunk, animated movie, looks very cool