Me in 75 words or less

So for this book thingy I have to come up with a bio that is 75 words or less. I can rant and rave till I’m blue in the face and cramped in the typing hands, but coming up with a serious bio about myself is daunting.

I thought about doing it Chuck Noris fact style.

Red Queen eats computer students for lunch and flosses with copper wire after.

Red Queen can party like it’s 1999

Red Queen is not an alcoholic, she process all the vodka she drinks into pure mountain spring water for drought ridden areas.

Whadda think?

The agony!

I am a freak for the perfect pair of sunglasses. I had a pair for years which were called my “Italian movie star” glasses. They were a slightly oversized pair of pink sunglasses whose lenses were a gradient of brown to rose. They made me feel like Sophia Loren whenever I wore them.

Then I stepped on them.

After that I went through many many pairs of glasses. I have 5 pairs right now on the shelf next to my desk and none of them are right. I lost 2 pairs in Mexico, one in the surf off Tulum and another when I was hiking in the jungle near Calakmul. A giant, dinner plate sized dragonfly flew into my glasses as they were perched on top of my head and cracked them in half. I finally found a cheap pair at a market in Chetumal that were *almost* as good as the Italian movie star glasses. I’ve been wearing them for about a year now.

Being in Seattle, you might think that sunglasses aren’t as necessary of a fashion accessory as they would be in Phoenix or Florida. You would be wrong. Us northwesterners have developed super sensitive eyes, like vampires. When that strange glowing ball in the sky finally decided to show itself, we don our glasses as fast as we can so that the burning can be avoided. It may be winter here in Rainland, but we must always be vigilant!

So of course last night I stepped on my purse and heard the unmistakable crunch of a pair of cheap plastic glasses snapping.

What will I do now? Nowhere in Seattle will sell sunglasses until April. I will be blind and stumbly.

But maybe I can use this as an excuse to get a hamster- a guide hamster! Named Ruby!

Tag- you’re it!

So about a decade ago I was tagged by the lovely Konagod to do the 8 things meme.

Since I suck like a hoover and blow like a fill in the blank, I’m just now getting around to it.

Here’s da rules

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged write their own blog post about their eight things and include these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged and that they should read your blog.
5. 8 is a magic number. Not three.

I tag back Brandann, Sir Robin, Ben, Wonder, Scarred, the other Ben, Chelle and Candi Cane

1)I have an irrational fear of walking barefoot on grass and swimming in water that might have “stuff” in it. I HATE the idea that tiny things I can’t see might be touching my feet.

2) When I was in high school I blew off Bud Bundy (David Faustino) at an underage dance club
3) I’ve made cookies for Paul Newman- twice.

4) When I am about to slam someone’s arguments I start out with a very polite “I suppose, but”

5) I am a giant slob. I use the excuse that I am breaking with traditional feminine roles so that I don’t have to clean

6) I have a collection of porn mags from around the world. My favorite is gay Japanese manga.

7) I am always thinking of things that would go on a personalized t-shirt. The banner and name for this blog came from a t-shirt I made after a drunken party conversation. It’s my version of “that would be a great name for a band”

8) I might have earned myself the reputation of being “that girl that dates all the professors” but I’m not telling.

more fun with gmail chat

Me: You should open a speakeasy in your basement. but we need a password.

Slyvie: Vegamite!

Me: Do you come from a land down under?
Where women bblow and men chunder.

Sylvie: I never got that line

Me: Chunder is to vomit, if I recall

Sylvie: Eeeeewwwww!

Wait, so all the women are blowing the puking men in Australia?
That’s disgusting!
I never saw any of that going on there.
Me: tourist- you’ve gotta get down with the dirty bits of Aussie culture to see that it’s really just one giant imitation of a roman vomitorium
Sylvie: I will have to ask my cousins about that!

me: they may not tell you cause you’re a feriner

Sylvie: But I’m family!
Foreign family, but still, fam, nonetheless!

me: but they didn’t tel you while you were there. They obviously think you’re an outsider
Sylvie: Poop.
me: i only tell you these things as a person who has never been to Australia and only knows about Australia from Simpsons cartoons and outback steakhouse commercials. So you know I am learned and right

Sylvie: Yep! Don’t forget Foster’s commercials, too.

me: It’s australian for beer

Partay!

At some point last night we reached 10,000 visits on site meter!

Since Wonder doesn’t see the stats, she sometimes doesn’t believe people actually read this.
But they do.

For those of you who are lurkers, consider this a very cordial invite to delurk. Where are ya? How did ya find us? If you could only eat one food for the rest of you life, what would it be?

Whoopdee Doodahday!

I wrote an essay called “The Mommy Fetish” for the feminist anthology “What We Think” and it’s been accepted. So has the a piece by the fab Brandann.

Send congratulations on over to Random Babble (link in blogroll)!

Based on your results your vulva and vagina are of average quality

According to the Vagina Institute, I don’t have the pretty pretty princess porn star version of a pussy that turns men on. Really? No, really? I can think of more than a few men who would disagree and judging by repeat uhm performances, guys like my naughty bits the same way they their pringles, once you pop they can’t stop.

The idea that there is one version of acceptable pussy is laughable. Some quotes from various guy friends (some of whom I’ve slept with, others I haven’t)

“I love hairy pussy”
“I like them to be wide and loose”
“Maybe I’m a little different from guys my age, but I like more hair than you usually see” (from a hot hot grad student who adorably mispronounced labia- at least he knows what they are)
“I hate shaved pussy, I like it when the curly hairs tickle my nose”*
“I like them loose so I can really move around in there”
“I hate hate hate bare pussy”*
“I like big big lips, I really like meat curtains”*
“Big clits- easier to find”
“She was a little too furry for me, but she’s awesome in every other way”

Much like there are boys who like big, curvy girls and boys who like tiny ones,boys like different types of pussies.

And while cock size is important- each girl has a different idea of what small, big and too big are. And we won’t even get into boys whose cocks curve, but sometimes the curve is a g-spot finder and sometimes it’s just hitting the wrong spot.

Nature loves diversity. It’s good for evolution. Sameness makes populations more susceptible to catastrophe. Where we get this idea of homogeneous beauty from is from capitalism (I’m on a roll today since I pulled all the poly sci 101 stuff out). Capitalism requires huge groups of people to have the same tastes and preferences in order to sell stuff in mass quantities, sex included. So while it shouldn’t be surprising to me that they are trying to create a need (capitalism 101 folks) by making women feel bad about having a pussy that looks different from the pornified version that is supposed to be ideal, it still grosses me out. And I’m even more grossed out by the types of people who buy into this ideal.

Poly Sci 101

One of the fab things about living in Seattle is the high level of political literacy. This means I don’t have to argue with people who still think that the cold war is going on and that the worst threat to democracy is Communism, or as someone wrote on another blog “Communism’s limp-wristed cousin, socialism”.

First- the limp-wristed insult, to which I’d like to say “excuse me, your fox news education is showing”. Resorting to gay bashing doesn’t really make a point, but shows some serious levels of teh stoopid.

Second- here’s a little edumacation for those not so lucky to live in politically astute places.

Communism, democracy, theocracy, monarchy, anarchy, totalitarianism- these are all political systems. They tell us how we want to choose those who would have power over us,what laws they will use to govern and how we will limit their power. Ideally in communism, democracy and anarchy the people have direct control over power, but only anarchy and communism believe that eventually people’s best natures will show through and everyone will behave themselves. Democracy is a bit more realistic about people’s better natures and gives us a way to get rid of asshats through the vote.

Capitalism and socialism are economic systems. These systems tell us how we choose to allocate resources. Pure free market capitalism relies exclusively on competition, socialism relies on cooperation. Capitalism is not exclusive to democracy, quite contrary actually. Fascism is ACTUALLY capitalism attached to totalitarian political structure. Socialism is not anti-democracy either, quite the opposite. Socialism works best when people get to choose it.

Now I may come off as a pinko liberal commie,but I am not in any way, manner, shape or form a communist. I love democracy. I love being a part of shaping the government and I love that everyone in a democracy gets a chance to do that. I want more democracy, not less. I want national referendums and for every single citizen to get to vote easily- including people with criminal records. But when it comes to economics, I am actually a hybrid kind of girl.

For all my proggy tendencies, I don’t think all capitalism is bad. I like the stuff that capitalism produces, like the computer I am sitting at now and the vast array of shoes that currently fill my closets. Capitalism works best for items where the consumer can get near perfect information. I know how many pairs of shoes I need (and how many pairs of shoes I want)and what kind of shoes I want. I also know what I need my computer to do (music, videos, email, word processing, photo editing) and what I don’t need it to do (video games, TV or DVD watching). Competition insures that I can get what I want at a price I am willing to pay.

Then there are things I need that as an individual that I will never get perfect information for. Health care is one of those things. I don’t know if I will live to be 80 without ever suffering from an expensive disease or if I will get hit by a bus tomorrow. The uncertainty factor in health care makes it impossible for me to competitively shop for it. But governments can get near perfect information on health care. They may not know which individuals are going to get cancer or be hit by a bus, but they have pretty good numbers for how many individuals get hit by a bus or get cancer and how much treatment for those things will cost.

Then there are things where I know how much I’ll need and what price I can pay, but the difference in quality doesn’t just make for an unpleasant experience but for a life or death situation. These things include spinach, where i would like some guarantee that trying to get my Popeye on won’t land me in the hospital with kidney failure due to shoddy farming practices. Also, children’s toys. I may know just how good or bad the Kid’s been at Christmas, but taking a lead paint detector with me to the store is not very practical.

For situations like food quality and toy safety, relying on competition alone won’t work. We can’t afford to wait for people to die of ecoli before grocery shopping so that we know what brands of spinach are safe to eat. That is where government regulation comes in. I know in little libertarian fantasies there is no government regulation of anything because competition in the free market will eliminate producers of bad goods. I invite all libertarians to become my personal food and water testers if that dream comes to fruition. I’ll even make the delicious spinach salad with a bacon ecoli dressing, but they have to take the first bite.

I’ve been interrupted by students so many times writing this post that I can’t remember what the original point was. Oops.