Lesbian Mecca?

So apparently, the April issue of GQ magazine contains an article called "Where to Find Her 2007," which describes the many locations across the world where GQ staff have apparently decided men can find high numbers of women who are both beautiful and intelligent. I do not know if this article can be found online (the GQ website is blocked by my office's brilliant new internet filter), but the first page of it is pictured below:


This existence of this article, while interesting, is not in and of itself something that I would normally write about on this blog. The reason I'm writing about it is that this article contains a small list on the bottom of one of its pages. The list is entitled "Where Not to Find Her," and lists places that apparently have been determined by the GQ staff to have very few attractive, smart women. The list, blown up for readability, is pictured below:


You will notice, if you look closely, that Smith College, my alma mater, is on this list.

Granted, this list is just silly, like most GQ reporting, and is trying to elicit a few cheap laughs on the part of its readers by propagating stereotypes such as implying that female athletes are ugly, stupid, or both (WNBA) and that old women are not attractive (the Supreme Court—unless, of course, they're trying to imply that Supreme Court Justices lack intelligence). They're also terribly clever when they point out that it may not be the best idea to date a blood relative, a high school student (assuming that the average GQ reader is no longer in high school), or a woman who is married to someone else.

In line with this approach on the part of the GQ editors, and given that Smith College is located in Northampton, Massachusetts, also known as the Lesbian Capital of the World, and also given that Smith College has somewhat of a reputation as a lesbian haven, I think it's fairly clear that the editors of GQ are not trying to say that all Smith students are ugly and/or stupid. Rather, I think they are simply resorting to an obvious stereotype to tell their readers (who are likely of the persuasion who need this sort of basic advice) that attempting to date a lesbian is probably not the most successful dating strategy available to them.

I believe that this article was just brought to the attention of Smith students in the past day or two, and already there is a Facebook group protesting the article. It cannot have been in existence for more than two days, and yet it already has 590 members (nearly a quarter of the size of the Smith student body) and 83 wall posts (by contrast, some of the Facebook groups that I've been in for two years still don't have half that number of wall posts). This group is, in fact, waging a photo campaign against GQ's editors in an attempt to prove them wrong (though I am not entirely sure how they will prove the intelligence factor through these photos).

The thing about Smith is that even though it's seen as having a huge lesbian population, several sociology professors whose classes I took while I was a student at Smith insisted that well over half of Smith students consider themselves heterosexual, and that the demographic breakdown of sexuality of the student body was not notably different from that of the overall population of the United States. My personal experience during my four years at Smith seemed to corroborate this theory, though I don't know of any actual studies or hard statistics on the matter.

The ironic thing about all this is that by publishing this article and pissing off all these (admittedly overly-PC, easy-to-piss-off) Smith students, this statement has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. GQ readers should stay away from Smith students. Because the gay ones don't date men, and now the straight ones don't date GQ-reading men.

Peaceful evenings on the front porch.

There is an article on CNN about a man in North Carolina who was found with 80 sheep in his house. It's kind of sad, actually, because they were living in terrible conditions and 30 of them had to be euthanized. But then there was this amazing quote from the neighbour:

"All I want is to be able to sit on my front porch and not smell sheep poop," said Angie Fowler, who lives across the street.

In other news, my office has implemented a new internet filter that blocks Pandora for being streaming radio, so now I have nothing to listen to at work. Also, it blocks the Sports Illustrated website, as I discovered when I tried to read an article linked from CNN about the UNC mascot dying. The reason provided? "Forbidden Category: Intimate Apparel/Swimsuit."

My brand new love affair is already over.

I just fell in love with Fossil. I couldn't help it. They were so good to me. I've had the same Fossil watch for four years, since my sister gave it to me as a Christmas gift during my first year of college. Not only is it purple, but its face is able to change from one shade of purple to another. It's very cool. In fact, it's just right and extremely comfortable, and stylish enough for most occasions (at least for me, as a mostly non-fashion type).

But the watch goes through batteries really fast, most likely due to some sort of problem with the colour changing mechanism. Fossil apparently attempted to fix this problem by setting up the watch with two batteries, one for the actual clock and the other for the colour-change function. But my watch malfunctions in such a way that the colour-change mechanism constantly eats away at its battery, even though I never change the colour (one of the shades of purple is vastly superior to the other), and once it's used up its own battery, it eats from the other one. The result being that every six to eight months, my watch dies and I have to pay to replace not one but two batteries. And twice the watch has died altogether and I've had to ship it to the Fossil watch repair center in Texas. And pay $7.50 for the privilege of having them follow through on the warranty. And wear the old, non-purple Storm watch that I had in high school while I waited for my beautiful watch to be returned to me.

So far it's hard to tell why I'm in love with Fossil, right? The batteries died again today, so I went to the jeweler downstairs in my building, the same people who replaced it last time. And the guy was shocked that the batteries had run out again, and rather than having me pay $20 to replace two batteries again, sent me back upstairs to call Fossil and complain. So I did. And amazingly, I didn't have to wait on hold at all, and the woman I spoke to actually listened to me, understood my complaint, and within five minutes had issued me a credit for any watch valued between $65 and $75 (my original watch cost $55, but I guess prices have gone up in the past four years), to be purchased off their website using a handy little code she gave me.

It was amazing. It was thrilling. It was the best customer service I have ever experienced, and those five minutes wiped out all the frustrating conversations I have had with other Fossil representatives over the years. Like I said, I was in love.

Then I went on the website to browse the watches. Even the ones that cost more than $75, thinking that I could pay the $20 difference if I found the perfect watch priced at $95. But I didn't. I didn't find the perfect watch at $65, $75, $95, or any other price. And why not? Because NONE OF THE WATCHES ON THE FOSSIL WEBSITE IS PURPLE. And I am not counting the two ugly digital watches with hideous purple rubber straps designed by Philippe Starck. I want a nice normal watch with a nice metal band and a nice purple face. Many of which used to be produced by Fossil. But apparently not anymore.

That was it. I fell out of love as fast as I fell in love in the first place. And now I don't know what to do. Go back to my Storm watch until Fossil releases its next collection and hope that it includes a purple one? Suck it up and buy a watch that isn't purple that I may be stuck with for several years? Or just cry?

What. The. Hell. is right

My coworker Matt passed on to me one of the most amusing articles I've read about this year's NCAA tournament (especially since UNC's tragic collapse against Georgetown on Sunday). It is an amazing tirade about the top 25 worst mascots amongst NCAA Division I schools. My personal favourite, from Tulane, lands only at number 20 on the list, but I think the photograph (complete with commentary) is worth sharing:


Also, while we're discussing NCAA Division I mascots, I do feel compelled to mention that Jason Ray, the guy who has played the UNC mascot, Rameses, for the past three years, was hit by a car a few hours before UNC's game against USC on Friday, and he died yesterday. And then UNC got eliminated from the tournament. What a bad weekend.

Retrospective

I had a friend for a couple years in high school who came to visit me right after I started college. He spent the weekend with me and I thought that it went well, although parts of it felt odd and stilted. I gave him my bed and slept on a mat on the floor. On the last night he was in town, we walked around downtown and then wound up sitting on the steps of a church across the street from campus. We talked for a long time about many different topics. I don't remember the specifics of the conversation as much as I remember the feel of the evening, but I do remember that we talked about how he felt like a brother toward me and how we would always stay friends even if we changed outwardly, because we were compatible at our cores in a way that couldn't change. The next day I walked him to the bus station and sat with him while we waited for his bus, which was an hour late. It felt awkward and silent and I didn't understand why.

He went home and told his girlfriend that it had been the worst weekend of his life and that I was incredibly annoying. I don't remember his exact words, but it was something about how if he had gouged his eyeballs out with dildos, it would have been less painful than spending the weekend with me. His girlfriend, apparently, thought that this comment was funny enough to merit posting on her blog. So she posted it. And I saw it the day after he left.

There is a whole complicated afterstory, but the upshot of the whole thing was that he informed me that he didn't want to be friends with me anymore but that if I felt like contacting him online sometime, I could feel free to do so. I tried once, a few months later, at which point it became clear that our friendship and our ability to remain in civil contact with one another were dead.

It's funny, because that was in 2002, over four years ago, and I'm totally different now, and I can even recognize what it was about me that irritated him so much, and I haven't even thought about him in years. But I was just browsing WritersCafe.org and I came across his poetry. Same name, and it's definitely him in the photograph. It was so startling and unexpected. And the most unexpected part was that it still hurt, even though I would have thought that I was totally over the whole incident, if I had thought about it at all. And his poetry was good. I'm not exactly a highly-qualified judge of poetry, but I would say it was more than just good.

It feels strange to identify so strongly with my 18-year-old self, although I am so different now than I was then. I am much more self-possessed and aware of things and I make people laugh and I am happy and I feel vital, full-colour, in a way that I did not in 2002. And the sharp criticism that was issued to me when I was 18 would be more or less irrelevant to the way that I am now. But the hurt is still there, the connection to those strong feelings of loss and inadequacy.

I turned 23 on Friday, and over the weekend I read a letter that I wrote from myself at 13 to myself at 23. It was dated July 1997. The letter itself was three typed pages. It also included a photograph of me, a photograph of my best friend, a list of the addresses of some publishers that I had found, two (mostly terrible) poems that I wrote, a couple of baseball cards from my then-favourite teams (the Baltimore Orioles and the Los Angeles Dodgers), a copy of the magazine in which I had an article published when I was 12, and a copy of the most recent issue of YM magazine. (For those of you who may not be familiar with YM, it was one of the premier magazines for teenage girls in the '90s, and one of the three teen magazines to which my sister subscribed, along with Seventeen and Sassy [the precursor to Jane magazine]. The name now appears to have been purchased by and somehow incorporated into TeenVogue, as the YM website offers subscriptions to TeenVogue.)

It was more or less impossible for me to relate to the girl who wrote that letter. The letter was interesting, and it was neat to find out that I have more or less fulfilled all the goals I set for myself when I was 13, and it was funny to see this 13-year-old girl stating her forceful opinions about politics and Paula Jones and the environment and what kind of dog her adult incarnation should own. But it didn't feel like me who wrote it, in that I didn't really recognize myself in the pages, other than it being similar to other writing of mine that I still have from that period.

I wonder if in five or six more years, I won't feel any pain or hurt when I think about bad things that happened to me when I was 18. Really, I wonder if I will still relate to my 18-year-old self when I'm 30, or if I will feel as distanced from 18 years old then as I do from 13 years old now. Or if there is some sort of fundamental difference between being 13 and being 18 that causes 18 to imprint itself and its feelings on your brain more fully, in a way that will last forever.

I told you so.

It's somewhat convenient that I don't really write my blog to appeal to a particular audience, as I don't know how many people care about both American Idol and college basketball. But I can't help it. I grew up in Durham, North Carolina, also known as the Mecca of college basketball rivalries, and I have been a UNC fan since kindergarten (we didn't move to North Carolina until I was four, so I can't claim to have been a fan since birth). This loyalty to UNC means (in case anyone is totally clueless about this stuff) that I absolutely cannot stand Duke. I love to see them lose. I watch televised games of theirs even if they're playing a team I care nothing about, just to root against them. I find them elitist snobs, I think that Coach K wears a hairpiece, and their strategy of filling their team with one-level-below-NBA players irks me.

So it's been an enjoyable season, watching UNC sweep Duke in the season series, then go on to win the ACC tournament as Duke got eliminated in the very first round against N.C. State, who did not even get invited to the NCAA tournament (although, to be fair, State also beat UNC once this season and got to the finals of the ACC tournament). And my enjoyment of seeing Duke lose actually helped me when I filled out my bracket for the office pool (sidenote: this is my first year as a grown-up with a real job and thus my first year filling out a bracket for an office pool instead of just that Facebook thing, which is fun). The thing is that because I'm the only person from North Carolina in my office, I'm the only one who has paid enough attention to them this year to know that they are a short team who likes to play at a very slow pace and gets quite fatigued toward the ends of games against faster-tempo teams. Like VCU.

I thought I was the only person in the whole office pool who called VCU's upset over Duke last night, but I have just discovered that one other person also called it. But besides him, everyone else called Duke to win it on name alone. Some people actually called Duke to go quite far, including one insane person who thought they would make it to the Final Four.

Now my fingers are crossed that VCU can use the adrenaline from the Duke win to pull off a second straight upset, this time over Pittsburgh. But even if they don't, knowing that Coach K is off to re-dye his hairpiece until next fall makes me very, very happy. Maybe he should have accepted that offer from the Lakers after all.

I should just stop pretending that this blog isn't just about American Idol.

I really do not understand why Chris Richardson is so popular on American Idol. I have not once ever really enjoyed one of his performances and I think his voice sounds very boy-bandish and totally unoriginal. I get a little bit why he keeps making it through to the next round, and I think the high-pitched nature of the cheers for him is testimony to that (although personally I don't think he's cute at all, and certainly less cute than Justin Timberlake, to whom he is often compared). But the judges have been surprisingly kind to him thus far, and keep talking about how he's in it to win it and he's so much better than the other guys. And I just think that's wrong; I think that Blake and Chris Sligh and sometimes Phil Stacey have better voices than he does. I completely disagreed with Randy Jackson when he said that thing about Chris representing the guys and being the best male singer of the bunch, and I am starting to think that Randy is a bit too lavish with his superlatives (example: he said to somebody, I don't remember who, but somebody who was only decent and who sang after Melinda and LaKisha, both of whom were great, that they won the award for the best vocal performance of the night). And I was really glad that Simon stopped inexplicably sucking up to Chris and just told him flat out that his singing was "dreadful."

Other thoughts on tonight's show:

1) Diana Ross is a great singer and I'm glad that they all got to meet her, and I was incredibly impressed with how astute she was about each of the contestants (especially if she hasn't been following the show), but I was a little bored by hearing 12 of her songs in one night. It felt very promotional and not very nice to the contestants, especially those who would never have chosen a Diana Ross song on their own. Also, I wonder if there were any battles over who would get to sing some of the songs, and how they were resolved.

2) Sanjaya was not very good, and I was very sad about that. The more I see him, the more I see his smile as fake and the more I lose confidence in his ability to pick it up. Paula and Randy keep telling him to focus on his vocals, and Simon keeps saying that he just isn’t capable of doing it. But I do wish he would stop doing weird things to his hair. Last week it was totally straight and this week it was curlier than mine. He looks prissy and girly when he does that stuff to his hair and he needs to just chill out and let his hair do its natural wavy thing. But at the same time, I know that I’ll be incredibly sad if he gets voted off tomorrow. I am obviously less rational than I like to believe.

3) At first, I couldn’t stand Ryan Seacrest really at all. And I didn’t have much respect for someone who has built a career out of being a host and nothing more. But I actually think he’s very professional and is very good at handling awkward situations. Except for that one slip-up a few weeks ago when he inadvertently implied that Jordin was fat.

4) I have been saying for awhile that I think Brandon and Haley need to go. And then who falls apart and can't hack it and forgets the words? Brandon and Haley. I'm just saying.

Tragic discovery

I have just learned that Chris Sligh attended Bob Jones University, a super-Christian university that was subject of controversy back in 2000 for its ban on interracial dating (dropped in 2000 because of the negative press, apparently).

Now I don't want him to do well anymore. What if he uses all the money he makes to donate to his alma mater?

Caribou WiFi blocks TMZ.com

So, the American Idol cuts last night were certainly interesting. I'm glad that Antonella and Jared are gone, and I'm glad that of my original list of favourites, only one (Sundance) didn't make the top twelve. I was surprised that Sabrina got cut, especially because I thought that Haley was totally un-memorable, but I'm also not terribly upset by any of the cuts so far, even though I really liked A.J. And the reason is that I don't think that any of the people who've been cut so far really had a shot at winning. Sabrina had a fantastic voice, but there's a very crowded field of women of colour with big, gorgeous voices, and hers falls a little short of LaKisha's and Melinda's. If LaKisha, Melinda, Stephanie, Jordin, and Sabrina were all in the top twelve, we'd have a lot of performances that were very similar to one another, and the comparisons would be inevitable and probably result in mass and early carnage among the female half of the top twelve.

I do think (and hope) that Haley and Brandon won't last long, as I still don't like either of their voices. And if Sanjaya doesn't pick it up, I hope he goes too. The thing is that secretly I still really like him and want him to do well, but by "do well" I don't mean "keep making it through based purely on his charm." I mean I want him to stand up and blow everyone away the way he did in the auditions and in Hollywood. I want him to earn his way to doing well. He hasn't done that yet and he's been coasting through on early popularity, good hair, and a big smile. But now that it's down to the top twelve, he had better step up his game, and he had better do it without the advice of his "loving" sister.

And the good thing about Sundance getting cut is now he can actually go home, spend time with his newborn son, and possibly even relieve his wife of some of her diaper-changing duties.

Culture - serious and pop

There is an article in today's Washington Post arguing that conservative ideals of family values are impossible to achieve in a country organized around conservative economic principles. That is, the traditional model of the nuclear family as a married couple with kids has become much less common in today's society due precisely to the conservative economic model of unchecked free trade, outsourcing jobs, and diminishing unions, among other things.

Definitely an interesting thought.

On a less serious note, I was annoyed by the American Idol judges last night. They praised performances that I found lackluster (Blake, who wasn't bad but wasn't terribly energetic, Chris Richardson, whom I continue to find fairly dull but whom the judges inexplicably seem to adore, and Jared, whom I've never liked), and they tore up Chris Sligh, whom I thought was the best of the night by far. Also, note to Chris Sligh: You were great. You continue to be great. You are better than the other guys. So why did you APOLOGIZE to the judges for not "bringing it" the way you should have when they critiqued you? What happened to funny, sassy Chris Sligh? What happened to Chris Sligh the strategist? Don't admit your weakness. As you have learned already from the fact that A.J. left last week and Sanjaya got to stay, the voting public does not always agree with the judges. And the judges have no more power except to attempt to influence the votes (unless the show is rigged, of course). So don't apologize to them! Also, on a related note: Phil Stacey, you suck-up. Like I said, the judges are no longer in the driver's seat. Get over it.

Brandon and Jared are my picks to get voted off this week. Not because I necessarily expect them to go, but because I want them to be gone. And I swear it's not because they're the only two male black contestants left. I just don't find them to be very good singers. We'll see how it goes with the girls tonight.

And Libby is found...

guilty. On four counts.

Perhaps slightly off-colour

One of the best things about being Jewish and dating a German guy is that whenever he does anything that I find unsatisfactory, I can accuse him of being a Nazi.

A sample conversation from this weekend:

Me: [Loud burp]
Him: That's disgusting.
Me: You Nazi.
Him: I am not a Nazi.
Me: Your people killed six million Jews!
Him: Yeah, and it's about to be six million and one.

A.J., I'll miss you!

I didn't like A.J. Tabaldo that much last week, but this week I thought he was great. And I am tragically sad that he got cut. It should have been Brandon Rogers, who is totally blah and doesn't even have a particularly good voice. Also, if Sanjaya blows it a third week in a row, he had better not make the top twelve. He was good in the auditions, but not that god damn good.

Also: Leslie got cut before Antonella? I mean, I figured she would get cut next week, but Antonella sucks. Yes, she's hot, and yes, I hear there are some pretty racy pictures of her floating around out there, but come on. Her voice sucks. It actually hurts me to hear her. She has to go. She just has to.

Also again: I already liked Sundance, but last night he was all fuzzy because he skipped the hair gel (thank god) and he adorably cried when everyone got cut. Now if he would just get rid of that heinous goatee.

Slight update to my list of favourites: I still like all the people I liked before (and I'm glad none of them got cut), although I didn't think LaKisha and Jordin were as good this week as they were last week. But now I have to add Chris Sligh to the list. I thought his performace this week was amazing. And secretly, I still really want Sanjaya to do well. So, the hope for next week is that Antonella and Haley will be the girls to go, and that Brandon and either Jared or Chris (probably Jared) will be the guys to get voted off. That would leave a top twelve of LaKisha, Melinda, Gina, Stephanie, Jordin, Sabrina, Blake, Sundance, Phil, Sanjaya, Chris Sligh, and Chris Richardson/Jared. Which is a pretty great top twelve.

Not that I actually vote in this thing. So I guess I shouldn't really complain when people I like get voted off.