How Barbie taught me what to wear...

So I've been seeing a post about how the one lady in Australia is making over Bratz dolls...  and I started thinking...  and put two and two together one of the last times I went shopping, because of the types of clothes I was gravitating towards...

I grew up in Kuwait, and in Egypt.   In the 70s.  So we had some "girly" barbies, but we also had a variety of clothes for them and for Ken.   (In fact, Ken and Barbie sometimes shared clothes... mostly jackets and tops...some clothes, Ken filled out better!) as you can see in the following photo...

We had tons of accessories, as well as a few handmade things.  Most of the outfits came as separates, or with scarves/vests/jackets/etc.  Unfortunately, the truly ugly iconic ones are the ones that survived better...  not the well-loved ones.  

But I see a lot of Barbie elements in my closet today...

take jumpsuits...

Or dresses...

Or even sweaters or nighties....

And I recently realized that I've been looking for a pair of boots similar to Barbie's..

Barbie also inspired some of my love of big jewelry..  Although that may also be from my paternal aunts and grand mother.  I don't think it mattered so much to me what I wore, as what Barbie wore, that shaped my taste...  It certainly is not boring...  


But you know what? For all you parents who are concerned about your kids playing with Barbie?  Just get them a variety of clothes, because that is where it begins...  

On turning 44. Or "Alone and doomed to be so forever" reflections on a life badly lived.

So, I'm just tired.  I'm tired of not having a support system.  I'm tired of not having a network.  Yes, I have things.  But I am just sick to death of stuff.  I don't want more stuff, I don't even want any more "imaginary" Internet friends.

I want real friends.  People I can call when my car breaks down.  People who will come along and offer moral support for buying a new car.

Yes, my house is clean.  Yes, I am starting to lose weight again.

I have had no luck dating.

I haven't had much luck making friends.

I never have.

I went to boarding school a year too late to really connect with people.  I came in in my Junior year, and everyone had their friends.

Then I was uncomfortable around people in college.  I was always a little bit of a loner...  and never really dated anyone in college...

And  then I got into a bad situation, I found a nice place to live as a result, but even there, never really made friends.  Some dating, but not very much of that, either.  

And then my second big disaster of a relationship.

Ended.

After five years.  Cohabitating for most of them.  He was a hoarder.  His mother was also a hoarder.  That kind of thing rubs off...


12 years later, still single.  CRAPPY dating record.  Just no idea how to meet someone in the modern world. Yes, I have money.  I don't need to work.  However, I also do not go out and buy every overpriced bauble that appeals.   I watch my money.   I'm not a Koch or a Walton.

I just want to find someone who sees me, not dollar signs, or a spoiled, entitled brat.  

I never even managed to have kids.  I'm just alone.  Completely and utterly.  

Yes, this post is a little self-absorbed and whiny.   I know, and I apologize.  But it is just so easy to feel alone.

And damnit, I miss hugs.

I don't know how to fix this.

In which I have a failure to adult.

Aka Catherine is having trouble buying a car.  I don't know why.  I just have a fear of buying myself a shiny, new, working car.

I know what I want, one of those cars that is a little sportier than a "mommy" car.   I just wish they'd give them jazzy colors.   This middle-aged lady wants lime green, or purple, or hot pink, something fun.   Not beige, greige, grey, silver, or white.

I guess part of me still wants a sexy car too.

After all, I'm not doing theater as much, or choir, or teaching CCD.   Or working at the Library.

But it would be useful for CSA, for going up to the Lake, etc.... to be able to go buy a full-size rug!  Or a piece of furniture.... and bring it home...


It just feels like such a big purchase.   And a permanent purchase...

Its not so much the car, its that I have an odd love/hate relationship with permanence.   I hate change, but sometimes it is necessary.  

Piles of papers, boxes of books, towers of trivia....

Ok, so, I am not the most organized person in the world.   An Internet friend of mine uses the phrase "The Cupboard of Doom".  I can SO relate.  

I have piles.  Piles of papers, piles of proxies, piles of produce, even.  

I have boxes full of papers, some from my fleeing the ex 12 years ago.   And I fell behind on important things, I fell behind on catching up and organizing.

So I made a promise to myself this year.  As the weather gets cooler, I am going to sort at least one bag of recycling, old bills, statements, etc, every day that the weather is inclement, until I am clear.  

I filled my recycling bin with shredded stuff.   I ran out of paper bags!  

I still have piles, I still have a ways to go, but I am seeing an end to it.   I am seeing progress.

Sometimes, it is the baby steps.   It is the elimination of one pile a day.  

But man, so much paper.

SO MUCH.

Now I just have to go redeem all these bottles.   For what won't even be gas money.  

The Day The Internet United.

It was the day of Robin Williams' death.   Never have I seen my twitter and Facebook feeds so full of sorrow and of love.   Robin touched the hearts of my generation so much.  I grew up with him, Mork from Ork, The World According to Garp, What Dreams may Come, Bicentennial Man, Aladdin, Mrs Doubtfire.

He touched us all.  He appealed to our inner humanity, to the sense that there is always something a little alien inside us.  To the quirky, the people who would go to great lengths for the ones we love.  

And we all loved him.

I wish he had known how much he was loved.  It might not have helped.  But I just wish, wish, wish he had known.  

He was an incredible talent, and his movies helped me through some of the darker times in my life.

And he is gone, and the whole world, from Scotland, Egypt, India, Australia, grieves.

We grieve in part because he embodied "everyman".

We grieve for that part of ourselves that he touched.

We grieve because it helps us grieve for others we have lost.

I grieve because I saw such light, such kindness, such sadness in his movies.  He let us see his humor, but also his pain.

And I hope this, at least, helps his family.   That he was able to unite the Internet through love.  

The bright spark in the darkness.  Love wins.

And Robin, you are loved.  You are loved so much.

You have touched many, many lives.  More lives than you will ever know.

And I hope that you are looking down from a great mountaintop, and feel that love envelop you and take you to safety.   You have left us with incredible characters, part of a generation of people, and will live, in our hearts forever.

Goodbye, oh captain, my captain.  Nanu, nanu.

Anthem for Doomed Youth.

To Wilfred Owen, who would have dreamed that your poem would still be appropriate, 100 years on.  Now it truly is doomed youth, doomed children.   I have no words anymore, for the horrors I see on my Twitter feed.  The bodies of children being stored in ice cream freezers, because there is no room at the morgue.

I feel that I have to keep testifying, because our, as Americans, complicity is so strong.   We are providing the bombs that kill these children.  The deaths, oh god, the deaths.

And you never thought your words would apply to babies.

And when does it all stop? When does the hatred and the anger stop?   Israel will NEVER feel safe.  The Iron Dome was not put into place as protection from Hamas, it was put into place as protection from Lebanon.   Hamas was a nuisance, until they became a scapegoat, again.

It is complex, and there are layers and layers of hatred, of anger, of...  and some of it was the arbitrary division of Palestine into Palestine and Israel.  Without regard to where the lines should be drawn, or forethought into the settlement/resettlement and future of the land.

And we come to here, from genocide to an ethnic cleansing.  From the Holocaust to children's deaths, yet again.

And the cycle continues, and children die.


CHILDREN DIE.

And I feel so helpless.   But I have to speak up.

Imagine losing 18 family members at once.   I have a friend, who supports Israel, who has four brothers.  All of whom have kids.  Dan, if you read this, put yourself in their shoes.   Imagine losing your whole family in one blow.  Your brothers, their wives, most of their kids.   Imagine the impact it would have on YOUR family if you lost that many people at once.  I am not engaging you on Facebook, because it kills me that you seem to support this wholesale slaughter of families.

They have no way of burying the bodies.

The morgues are overflowing.   The power station has been bombed.

This morning, on Twitter, I read a tweet that said that Israel accidentally bombed the UN school because they were aiming for three men on motorcycles.  How does that possibly make sense?  A bomb large enough to obliterate a school, targeting three men who would have been a moving target?

STOP.  Please.  Hasn't there been enough death?

"First, they came for the Socialists"

Flaming Feminism, Batman!

So, I've been reading up on the "third wave" feminism.    One of the sites I had found, via a great blog, was named S-H-A-K-E-S-V-I-L-L-E (spelling it out because I don't want a "third wave" of comments coming here when people google for it).   The actual "feminist" posts on the site were good, and the idea behind a "safe commenting space" is also good, but, in practice, it falls short.   I had, before I started commenting, thought it seemed like a safe space.   But...  it is a "safe space" for the moderator only.  If you can't disagree, how can you grow?

So the moderator took an unexpected hiatus from her blog.   And I had been seeing things that just made me feel as if something wasn't quite right.   They edit your comments on S-ville.   The first time that one of my comments was edited I was furious, because, if I had not gone back and looked at it, I WOULD NOT have known that it had been edited.  They were MY words, before they were edited.  Why not, instead of editing, start a conversation about "hey, this was not cool, and here is why"?    At least send a note when you edit someone's words.    I had been furious, stepped away for a few days, came back, started commenting again.  But that editing made me feel like a horrible person, like a "bad feminist".  Which I am not.  I am careful with what I say.  I don't want to antagonize anyone.

I did read the commenting policy, feminism 101, and whatever else they wanted you to read before commenting.  But, when you have an overly elaborate commenting policy, that turns a safe space into a "lack of growth space", it makes it harder to comment.  And makes it harder to see what is ok to talk about.

When the mod went "walkabout", I googled her, I googled S-ville, and I came across another blog.   I came across one that was started by people who respected the work she had done in the past, but felt that the blog had, in some ways, jumped the shark, and become more of a cult.  And you know, there is some truth to that.

Melissa, the mod in question, does do some things that don't seem respectful to me.  There is a lot of "The worst thing ever" or "The best thing ever", "blubs", and "welp".   How about using English?  Proper English?  You can't disagree, or offer advice.  Advice is bad, bad, bad.  Because you are taking away the ability for rational thought and "eliding her lived experience".  Well, maybe YOUR lived experience has some things that hers hasn't.

Boy this is getting long.

Anyway, with various red flags going up, not only via the commenting policy, but my reaction to the commenting policy, I have been watching the out-in-the-open war between these two sites.

Long story short, both sides have a point.   The site has been overzealous with its commenting policy, and the opposing site does have some nasty remarks.  The opposing site says that they have never encouraged anyone to track Melissa down, or harass her.  They have kept their comments and observations to their own site.  That being said, including S-ville in the name, yes, it is targeted, to an extent.   But they did confirm a lot of my own observations about the current state of S-ville.  

So I don't agree completely with either site.   I think S-ville has done some good work in the past, and still has some good content, but is overly moderated.    It is, in the end, a personal site, belonging to Ms Melissa.