Ranting....

Yesterday I went to my women's psych class prepared to hear a guest speaker. Now, I don't mean to write a second blog that has anything to do with racism, but I'm starting to get pissed off.

First, as a woman, I'm tired of hearing about how victimized I am. Everyone is a victim. I learned this in women's studies. A woman is discriminated against, but Latin and black women are even more discriminated against. Now, don't get me wrong, I know there is truth to all of this, it's just getting tiring. So, anyway, yesterday a speaker comes to specifically speak about myths of black women. Okay, heard it all 100 times. I could have told the class we're going to talk about the Welfare Mother, the Mammy, the Jezebel, etc. Anyway, I'm sure some people haven't heard it and really it is an interesting thing to note, so I listened attentively again. The speaker was a nice, intelligent woman who had strong feelings on the subject. I listened about and took notes on how black women are portrayed and how this portrayal doesn't fit them at all. It's all good until we get to a section entitled: Obstacles Black Women Face When Being Hired. I was taking notes still until I saw Number 2: White employers expect white interviewees. I re-read it. I looked for some qualifications to follow. Nothing. That was it, stated like it's fact: white people only want white people. I refused to write that down in my notes. Actually I refused to take anymore notes. Did I seriously just sit through 45 minutes of hearing about how perceptions of black women are so misconstrued and then get asked to believe that all white people are racist? Does this intelligent woman really want us to believe this and more importantly, does this intelligent woman really believe this? Just as I'm sure it's hard for any hard-working and struggling black woman to encounter people who embrace the Welfare mother myth, it was hard for me, as a non-racist white woman, to read that. That statement is clearly a myth. Just like the other myths of black women. Sure, some black women fit the mold, but not all of them. Just like the white employers. It's a myth, too. I was so glad at the end of class when she asked us to take out a piece of paper and write our thoughts. Poor Whitney had to wait for a while for me to finish. I wrote:

I enjoyed your presentation. I have encountered several of these myths before and I'm glad you are taking time to educate people further on the matter. HOWEVER, when I read what you had to say about white employers expecting white interviewees I was a little disturbed. Isn't this too a myth? This is not true of all white employers, just like all black women are not lazy, welfare-mothers. Sure, you'll find some, but not all by any means and isn't that the very definition of a myth?

st. simons: the love of my life...

So, of course when my aunt called to ask if I wanted to take some friends to stay at her beach house this past weekend I said ummmmmm yeah! Emily, Me, Will, Ben, PW, Scott, Bill, KellySinque, Ashlee, Erin and Elinor all went down to st. simons...

As soon as i cross that bridge and take that right onto kingsway every worry I might have previously had disappears. Really, it's impossible to drive down that road and be sad about anything. It's oil and water. We got to the house, and emily and I couldnt' wait to get out of the car. Will and Ben had been drinking since about Sandersville and their only rush to get out of the car was to pee. I told them they could drink but " I'm not stopping for you all to pee...just use a cup" We unpacked, drank a few beers and walked to Brogens since my aunt's house is just down the road it's off of. Well, when we walked in there was a total of about 10 people there. This actually pleased us: we were all the fun we needed and there was definitely enough room to have it. We played shuffle board, photo hunt and even branched out and tried to play some word jumble game. We were having a great time, but it was clear that we did not fit in with the crowd there. Aside from ga/fl and summer, we truly just aren't welcome. Here are some ways the brogen's patrons let us know we were in their territory:

...the local wearing the 'who's your daddy' shirt challenged the boys to a game of shuffleboard. the winner buys the loser a beer. he lost and there was no beer bought for my boys.

...i went to the bathroom and since the 2 stalls were full i just waited by the sink area. when one of the girls came out she rolled her eyes at me. I took my place in the stall and just when i was thinking of how hateful that was she started talking about me! She said to her friend, "hey jennifer. we were not alone just now with that conversation. You know that girl in that blue shirt! Yeah...well she's in here." I didn't know if it was appropriate or not for me to then introduce myself to jennifer and ask if i could call her jen, so i just kept my mouth shut. Or actually open, jaw-dropped style. But i didn't say anything. I just waited for jennifer and friend to leave the bathroom.

...Scott goes to order a drink and the bartender informs him that "BTW, tomorrow night it will be even more crowded and so you and your friends will probably want to go to rafters...that's more your crowd."

Friday we spent all day at the beach. We went home around 6 and started grilling out, waiting for the rest of our party to arrive. When they did Kelly was wasted from drinking the whole way. This is a rare thing, to see her like that so I was amused the entire night. From her asking me if she could use my toothbrush and giving me a 10 minute explanation about how we can sanitize it to her passing out in the middle of our screw your neighbor game, she kept me entertained (you can see pictures of this on ashlee's webshots soon: http://community.webshots.com/user/adunck22

Saturday we played on the beach again and then went to dinner at BoneFish. It was a fabulous meal. PW and I split the grouper and tuna. I'm glad augusta has one now. I'll have to get my dad to take me on a date. We went back and watched the game while Elinor got drunk by herself. Here are some reasons we knew Elinor was drunk...

....she mentions that if anyone is getting up she would love another beer. Noone responds (we are in a room full of boys watching football...hello). So she mentions it again, thinking they hadn't heard her. Erin, as usual, told elinor she would get her a beer (she was voted most polite in high school). I explained to elinor, "You know erin isn't getting up for any other reason than to get you a beer, right?" Elinor, in typical OCD fashion (not to be confused with obsessive compulsive disorder--this is a rare disease that explains most of elinor smith's actions: Only Child Disorder), doesn't tell erin nevermind, doesn't even make an " aww that is so sweet of you to do that" face, no, elinor just says " well thanks, erin."

...the boys start getting upset at the game and screaming mean things at the t.v. at one point bill says, "WHO CAN I CALL ABOUT THIS!" to which Elinor responds "Call ___ (insert crush's name here)!!! See what he's doing!"

...finally, she yells (whispering isn't her thing) to ashlee to ask if she farted.

Sunday we cleaned then said bye. We listened to Because of You by Kelly Clarkson only once on the way home, which was quite an improvement from the ride down there.

My pictures will be up soon:

http://community.webshots.com/user/meganmattingly100

Breaking up is hard to do...

Letting go, harder.

My last breakup was far from cut and dry. It was happened over a year ago and only now do I feel like the relationship is truly over. Here's how my 3 1/2 year relationship gradually, in a few very long drawn out steps came to an end on Saturday:

1. The "let's take a break" talk. We all know this is bad, but we still all fall for it. In my case, it really was kind of a break. We were leaving Athens for the summer anyway, why not "take a break." I mean we had been fighting non-stop for the past few months. We talked a lot that summer, sent postcards, emails, etc. It was like having a relationship with no boundaries. I thought it would be a good time to date around too. But, my biggest mistake was thinking that once we came back to school we would get back together.

2. The "let's break up for real" talk. Okay, so we came back to school and most of you know it didn't go as I had planned. Well, he called me to go to dinner. I had planned that. We had a good time at dinner catching up. Planned that too. On the way home from dinner he said we should be over for good right now. He needed to do what "single" people do. Didn't plan that one. I, in typical girl fashion, got upset maybe even told him I hated him (which I didn't and don't). I stayed in bed for a week, realized my friends truly were angels sent from God, and then dusted my shoulders off and started moving on. Well, sort of moving on. I mean I liked other guys, I went out on a few dates, I partied like never before, made even more friendships, and enjoyed my life. However, it was always in the back of my mind that he couldn't tell me it was over "forever." I begged him to tell me that, I knew if he didn't that I'd hang on for as long as it took. But, he never would. All he would say was that yes he did love me, but he didn't know if we were supposed to be together, at the same time he didn't know if we weren't supposed to be together. Every encounter last year between us was awkward and often ended in tears. Usually just me crying, but a few times I saw him tear up too. Whenever I wouldn't see him for a while and I had quit thinking about him all the time, something would happen. Either a friend would run into him and he'd tell her to tell me he missed me, or he would end up coming to one of my friend's party unexpected, etc. We ended up kissing a few times at the end of the year and I thought it was finally going to happen: The 'get back together' part. Obviously since I'm writing this, you know it didn't. So, finally...

3. The "letting go" talk. I made him tell him what he should have, but probably couldn't have, told me all along. That we should say goodbye for real. I cried, he cried, and we said bye. Then, something amazing happened. I woke up the next day and for the first time in years I realized he is not the guy for me. We broke up for a reason, and I had failed to remember that reason over the past year. The reason being we aren't supposed to be together. It took my mom saying it for me to truly believe it. She said he's a good guy, but he's not right for me and it's time to move on. Thank God I finally believe her.

Notice how number 2, the in between, is the most drawn out and unnecessary part of the entire thing. Take close note of that.

My parents came in town last night for parent's weekend. It felt so weird getting my apartment ready for guests. Especially since the "guests" were my parents. We waited until the last minute to find a hotel room, so we were SOL. The plan was for them to sleep in my bed and for me to sleep on the couch. I went to get new sheets, I did laundry, even bought my mom's favorite cookies and my dad's favorite beer. It was so strange, me taking care of them and preparing for their visit. I felt like the parent, or at least I did until I had to use their plastic to pay for it all.

Anyway, they arrived fashionably late. They were supposed to get here at 7:30, so when my phone rang at about 7:15 i figured they were in town and lost, but no...they were still 45 minutes away. so i figured the reason for the call must be that they wanted to apologize and make sure I knew they were running late, but no...My dad was calling to tell me to get on the internet and find out why Kenny Chesney and Renee Zellweger were divorcing. I could have told him without looking: they dated for only 8 weeks before getting married. Hello.

Yesterday was September 11th. About this time 4 years ago we were truly a united nation. It seemed everyone argued less about trivial issues, everyone smiled a little wider at strangers, and everyone was proud to be American.

Tragedy strikes again and I feel like it's nothing like it was four years ago.

I mean I got yelled at for asking a cop (who was trying to write me up for open container on gameday) where I was allowed to drink with open container since, upon looking around, it appeared that the answer was "everywhere." (Jennifer, don't run with this one. Even YOU drink on game day) His response:

Mean Cop: Does it say UGA on my arm?
Poor Megan: No sir. But...I don't get that.
Mean Cop: I don't care what you do right over there on campus, if the uga cops don't want to write you up then fine, but here...You'll get a ticket.
Poor Megan: Oh, I'm sorry. I truly just did not know the rules...I mean I never even walked in the halls without a hallpass, I really wouldn't have been walking around but my friends said it was okay.
Mean Cop: Well, if you have anymore questions then ask me. Not your friend.
(stupid Mae, I thought)
Poor Megan: Okay...so, did you mean that it's okay to drink on campus or not?
(brace yourself readers)
Mean Cop: MA'AM!!!!! Are you aware there is a war going on in Iraq? I mean, hey people are dying. Hurricane Katrina just hit New Orleans, but let's just concern ourselves with where we can and can not drink in Athens.


My psychology of women professor, having gone to school at Tulane, decided to devote class time to talking about the Hurricane. At first the discussion was somber. Everyone's heart went out to those who were affected and we seemed to be a class united. I thought it might be the first class discussion where everyone agreed. You know, the kind where you look around and everyone is nodding in unison. Well, long story short, half way through the class I was tense and incredibly uneasy with where the conversation was going. By the end of class I couldn't leave fast enough.

At one point a girl raised her hand to say "I know why the relief efforts took so long...Bush doesn't like anybody but white people." Okay, I have a few problems with this statement. First, I don't agree that you have to love Bush, I disagree with a lot he did and does, and I am not even sure that I am a Republican anymore. However, I did vote for him along with many others in that class and I think it's vital, when trying to have a class discussion about an important issue, that one be um, I don't know, a little respectful. Just as much as she knows there are people in this class who love Bush, I know that there are people in that class who love Kerry and therefore would never say anything so harsh about him. And way to make the white people in class feel uncomfortable. I was watching my back the rest of the class, scared I met get my neck stepped on for being white. My second problem is that a comment like that is not only disrespectful, I think it's ignorant. What is she implying? That the President is going to let thousands die because they're not white. C'mon people. My last problem was that she immediately turned the discussion into a race issue, which immediately divides the class, which immediately leads to a less effective discussion.

I wish efforts had been made sooner, my eyes tear up everyday when I hear new stories, but do I know what efforts needed to made? No. Do I believe that mistakes were made? Yes. Do I believe that if they could have been avoided they would have been? YES.

So, Hurricane Katrina: Destroy a classic city? Check. Ruin thousands of lives? Check. Divide the nation? Check.....Piss off Kanye West? Check.

When I heard about his speech I thought three things: First, I agree that they always show the black people looting and never the white people. I know there are white people out there stealing just as much as the blacks are, but we don't really want to see that on T.V. It's not as acceptable and it's not as entertaining. That's a sad but true fact. I felt him on that. My second thought was "i'm just glad he's at least upset over something other than not winning an AMA." Then, he had to go and say Bush doesn't like black people. Cue my last thought: oh...your friend is in my psychology class.

i'm back...

This is for Charlsie, Emily, Jennifer and Kate: the only people who care if i update my blog or not. In my defense, the reason for my incompetence is because I just now hooked up my computer in our new apartment. My sincerest apologies for being so virtually neglectful.

A warning though: this blog is not going to be an uplifting one. It's sunday, afterall. Why are sundays so depressing? I thought maybe it was just me who sat around all day on sundays feeling sorry for myself and watching hours upon hours of t.v. But when I found myself in the company of two extra people today, I realized it isn't just me who loathes sundays. Emily, Charlsie and I sat around and talked about why this is (during breaks between eating Gumby's pizza and watching House episodes on DVD, of course). This is what I chalk my sunday depression up to:

1. We all agree that it has a lot to do with drinking the night before. I generally dislike waking up after a night of drinking and feeling emotionally and physically distressed. However, I rarely find myself so down on Fridays, Saturdays and the occasional Tuesday (I had to include at least one alcoholic comment for Jennifer's amusement).

2. Charlsie made the comment that she went to church which helped some. I realized that is always a big issue with my "sunday depression." Not only am I hungover like a normal next day, but i'm adding spritually distressed to the list as well.

3. Then there's the fact that there is nothing to do on sundays. It's not unusual for me to not even leave the apartment on Sundays. Since lunch, we didn't leave the apartment until it was time for me to take Emily to make her 10:30 flight. As soon as we got in the car, both of our moods were literally instantly uplifted. I guess sometimes you just need some air.

4. Also, I've never agreed that Sunday is the first day of the week. Whatever, everyone knows that Monday is the first day of the week. I've had serious issues with this since i was 5.If it was the first day of the week i think i would find myself looking forward to my upcoming week instead of looking back upon my week that was. Because, that's what you do on Sundays. Or at least that's what I do. I think about everything...everything I did that week, everything I wish I hadn't done, everything I should have done. It is possible, you can think too much and Sundays are the perfect days to make this mistake.

5. Sundays are depressing because it's 5 more days until the weekend again. All the fun is over. I know tomorrow I won't be tailgating...jumping from tailgate to tailgate, hanging out with friends, and loving the fact that although my black dress doesn't fit as well as it fit last year, i'm still getting compliments on it. I know tomorrow, my biggest concern wont be whether or not I want bbq or lemon peppered chicken for lunch. No...tomorrow is the start of a whole new work week, which means the start of a long countdown until next weekend.