Lucky Bastard

This last birthday I was once again reminded of what a lucky bastard I really am. In addition to receiving tons of birthday cards, phone calls, and awesome presents, my favorite friends here in the DC area took me to, da da da, MEDIEVAL TIMES DINNER AND TOURNAMENT!!!!!!



I got to eat chicken with my bare hands, watch a horse show, wear a friggin' crown, contemplate the bizarre cultural origins of a three time daily "medieval tournament" and, to Andrew's chagrin, win the group betting pool for the upteenth time. I always win and I never care about what I'm betting on. Usually it's the Superbowl, in the past it has been the quarter slots, this time it was the Yellow Knight. Perhaps I should consider a new career? Or at least Andrew should start betting with me instead of against me. What a great birthday!

I honestly don't know how I got so lucky with all the people in my life. Well, actually, I sorta do. Long ago, in a state far far away... I went to college and decided to become the Elizabeth I thought I should be and instead learned how lucky I already was. See, in high school, my core group of friends were the OrchDorks, a diverse little group of string players who weren't nerds (like the band geeks) or socially inept, but weren't popular in the traditional sense. People generally left us alone. There were 8 of us, including me and my twin. Invariably we were together on weekends scripting Britcom style interludes, planning complicated spying maneuvers, cooking, or just talking. Partying wasn't the core of our social interactions because some of the members of this group were more conservative and in fact still are. We had personalities that ranged from quiet, to wacky, to intellectual, to sweet, to weird, and everything in between. We even have a devout Libertarian thrown in the mix. Some of these friends didn't have an interest in the sort of music I liked and weren't liberal by any means... Some of them did, but would never shave their head. One of them wanted to be doctor, one a nurse, one a pirate, one a teacher, one an auditor, one a violist, and one a writer. All but the pirate have succeeded. Piracy is having a bit of a down-time right now. Anyhow, at the time I went to college, I thought that the fact that some of my friends would never drink a drop of alcohol (a fact proven wrong with time) or listen to Wilco was a personal liability. I thought that I wasn't living up to my full potential unless I was with people who had the same values, ideas, clothes, music as me. I didn't understand at the time that all each of these women wanted was a place to be who they are, whatever that meant to them.

So? So I went to college and made friends who acted, looked, listened, believed, and thought liked I did. I found other liberal, music-loving drunks. And you know what? They turned out to be the biggest bunch of insecure, annoying, close-minded, catty, and backstabbing bitches I've ever met. As a note, I'm using the past tense as I haven't spoken to any of them in years, so perhaps they've changed...well, one of them contacted me recently via Friendster and her message oozed of the same self-aggrandizing pomposity born of unrealized insecurity. But, like I said, benefit of the doubt... Anyhow, what I ultimately discovered is that I wouldn't trade my OrchDorks in a million years. I would rather have friends that had different beliefs than me, but listened to my point of view and perhaps even changed their opinion because of it. I would rather have friends who treated people in a respectful manner, than people who feel the need to put others down for their own low self-esteem. I would rather be with people who value more than what clothes you wear, what drugs you've done, and what hipper-than-hippest band you listen to as criteria for friendship. Liberal does not mean open-minded and the coolest people are the people who don't care what cool is. It's not even on their radar. I'll take my dorky, funny, caring, open-minded friends any day. And you know what, some of them might even listen to Wilco or Black Box Recorder or shave their heads. But that shouldn't be the requirement. I'll be the first to admit that the whole situation was because of my bad judgment. These girls couldn't help what catty little people they were. They had their own issues. And I got caught up in them.

Luckily I didn't burn too many bridges with my experiment gone wrong. And in the time since my hard-earned lesson I have met some of the best friends I've ever had. Some of them are little weird people like me, with lesbian-chic hair and a love of the booze and piercings. Some are as American as white bread, but secretly whole grain inside. Perhaps some are even Sourdough? Oh, or marble rye... Regardless, my criteria for friendship has completely reverted to what it was when I was in elementary school, before all the social pressures kicked in. Does this person make me laugh so hard I pee my pants? Do they listen to me, even when I'm being so irrational and neurotic I sound like a crazy-person? Will they build hamster duplexes with me in their free time? Do they love me for me, differences and all?

At this point in my life, I have to say that I am lucky enough to have more than a handful of friends like this, including 7 of the 8 original OrchDorks and some other unexpected long-term friends from high school, Mizzou and GWU... Friends, in fact, who even remember my birthday amidst their own busy lives far away.

Thank you to all for being exactly who you are and for loving me all the same.

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Hermione

During a recent catch-up on Popsugar, this image of Emma Watson drinking was posted. While some might go, "Hey, 15-year-old actress drinking a beer, that seems right," I screamed at my computer "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Hermione doesn't drink!!!!!" Before you start telling me, Hermione is an imaginary character and Emma Watson is an actress playing her, I need to say this: Emma Watson is not a person. She only exists in the public world, my world, because she is Hermione. Therefore, I have the right to chastise her for public-un-Hermione-like behaviors.

Okay, okay, I give. I really don't think that, not really. Emma Watson can booze all she wants, as long as she doesn't drink and drive or beat up small animals in the course of doing so. Large animals are totally fine, though. Anyhow, my reaction did get me thinking about the idea of character ownership, especially related to literature characters. I am a huge Harry Potter fan, I admit, and when the movies came out I was a little nervous. In the end, I wholeheartedly accepted the children cast and in fact when I read the books, in my mind's eye I see Rupert Grint, Daniel Radcliffe, and Emma Watson. Thus, my belief that Emma Watson is Hermione. However, I'm not a true literal interpreter. I feel like I own the essence of the stories, but I don't get all in a tizzy when things are changed, like in Prisoner of Azkaban. Cuaron had to change some plot items and added/subtracted side-stories as he saw fit for his interpretation of the original story. I actually felt that Prisoner of Azkaban was the truest adaptation so far, in terms of capturing the feeling of the stories, of Harry's life.

My sister, on the other hand, is a true literal interpreter when it comes to her book/film adaptations. She essentially likes play-acting of what's in her head already. She hates Prisoner of Azkaban. It is her least favorite of all the Harry Potters, including the awful Chamber of Secrets. She also refuses to like the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice because it cut so much of the book out and because Keira Knightly is NOT Lizzy. Lizzy is actually a character where this ownership trait appears for a lot of people. Case in point: there were webpages devoted to anti-Keira Knightly as Lizzy, boycotts of the film, hate mail... And all because so many women feel that Lizzy is theirs, that she belongs to them, and that she deserves the movie that they have in their heads. For most P and P purists, the 1990s BBC version with Colin Firth hits the spot. It is nearly a line for line match of the novel and an image for image match of the imaginations of readers. Plus Colin Firth as Darcy makes most women weak in the knees. Myself included.

I personally liked the new adaptation. I think the director did a good job of capturing Bennett family life, Lizzy's spirit, and Darcy's love of her. He kept the essence of the novel in the film, which was a slight two hours compared to the eight hour BBC adaptation. It's become my P and P-lite. I watch it when I don't want to sit down for an entire week just for a Darcy fix.

In the end, whether you are an essence purist or a literal purist, there will be some films that fail to live up the reader's imagination at all. And there are some books that make better movies, I'm sure. But reading, unlike films, gives viewers the chance to place a bit of themselves in the interpretation, to imagine, to own the story. It's an amazing byproduct of the reading experience and one of the reasons that I'm a bookworm.

All the same, Emma Watson needs to keep away from the booze and stick to studying. Just like Hermione.

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Bad Kitty!

I've been a very bad blogger lately. I haven't posted in what feels like forever, even though I have several drafts of utmost social meaning rolling around in my head. I've just been so busy being important, I haven't had time for the little folks. I know I should be better, but, well, I'm too important for such things.

Actually, I have been really busy. I start my new job in about a week and I've been working late into the evenings and most weekends to finish up here at the Smithsonian. In addition, since I'm working out at Archives II, my commute from Arlington is about an 1 1/2 each way. My husband and I both agreed that I would not be a very fun person to live with if I did that everyday. Actually, I'm pretty sure I would be a terror. So, we've spent the last three weeks looking at places in Mt. Pleasant, Columbia Heights and Capitol Hill. We liked Capitol Hill/Eastern Market the best, but the space and price just wasn't what we were looking for. I don't want to spend all of my new money on a place to live. It would be nice to horde cash for a while, you know? Anyhow, we finally found a great little place in Columbia Heights, about three blocks from the Metro. It's a tad smaller than what we have now, but it's in a cute Victorian Rowhouse, has off-street parking (yes it's true, it does exist in the District), and will mean a 30 minute commute for me. Plus, even though Columbia Heights is going through the process of gentrification, it hasn't lost the diversity and community that makes it more appealing that yuppie-land Dupont or Cleveland Park.

I am sad that we are leaving our current neighborhood. We'll have to find new breakfast places, new pizza places, new takeout. But part of the fun of moving is discovering those things. We don't move until the end of April, though, so I will have to deal with the long commute until then. So, my posts will probably be few and far between as I will be sleeping most of my free time in order to get up at the crack-ass of dawn.

Sigh.

At least there is an end in sight. Along with a date with UHAUL. Whoopee!

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I'm Federal Now, B-yatch!

So, after over a year of working as an independent consultant for the Smithsonian (which is actually code for: sounds awesome, but really means no job stability or benefits), I have just accepted a federal permanent position at the National Archives and Records Administration!

My position is in the Special Media Preservation Lab and I will be working as a Digital Imaging Technician. Basically I will be digitizing really amazing photographs, letters, maps, negatives, etc. for exhibits use, public programming use, and for preservation purposes. Digital preservation is the wave of the future and I'm excited to be working at one of the top labs in the country. Digitizing original documents ensures their perpetuity and allows public use without damaging originals. It also means that Joe Schmo in North Dakota can access high quality captures of documents on the internet if he can't travel to D.C. to see them. What I'm most excited about, though, is that I will be working with the collection of the National Archives, basically the Rock Stars of archival documents. Letters by Jefferson, Washington, Lincoln... Supreme Court rulings... The Declaration of Independence. Well I probably won't be around that, per se, but you get what I'm saying.

The down-side is that I'm working at Archives II, as opposed to Downtown. I will have the schlep up to College Park every day from Arlington, which is around an hour and a half Metro ride each way. I did the commute before in Grad School and it's not awful, but it's also not great. So, David and I are moving into the District ASAP. We're looking at Eastern Market/Capitol Hill and Mt. Pleasant right now. My commute would be from thirty minutes to an hour then, which would be a lot better. Plus, I'd already be in DC on weekends. I don't want my only time in the District to be underground. I've gotten really used to being here every day for my current job and it makes me sad to leave. I'll also be sad to leave Pastries by Randolph and the Italian Store in Arlington, but I think I'll live. Well, I don't know, those pretzels Randolph makes on Saturdays are probably the best pretzels I've ever had... Mmmmmm, pretzels.

Oh and one final thing. It is in fact true that when it rains it pours. The very day after I accepted this position, I get called for an Associate Curator position at a history museum in Kansas City. Seriously, what's up with that? Now that they can't have me, they want me? It's some sort of sick employment law or something. The minute you say "yes" to something, five other great and amazing jobs will open to you.

Oh well, people can call all they want, 'cause I'm federal now, bitches!

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You Can "Flyover" My Ass

Growing up in Arkansas, I was surrounded by the ignorance, bigotry, and poverty one imagines existing in the South. I was also surrounded by far-right Christians/Republicans who had a severe distaste for both of the coasts. This dislike was partly based on the fact that the coasts are more liberal (and therefore morally corrupt), partly based on a deep distrust of the North from the time of the the Civil War and Reconstruction, and partly based on the impression that the West Coast and the East Coast (I'll call them Coasties from now on) look down on us Southerners/Midwesterners. We're nothing but the "flyover" only to be courted or cared about during election season.

As the extremely liberal child of a well-educated liberal family, I always chalked up the latter distrust of the Coasties to the same prejudiced-based mantra that the other distrusts came from. They were just being paranoid and trying to come up with any reason not to vote Democratic. To me, Boston, New York, DC, and San Francisco were meccas I couldn't wait to pilgrimage to, where I would find like-minded people who were open-minded, socialist, secular, and compassionate. After attending college in Missouri (where there were more liberals, but still a general distrust of the Coasties), I moved to DC for grad school. At first, it was everything that I imagined. I was surrounded (even during the Bush Administration) with people I thought were like me. They abhorred prejudice, ignorance, and wanted to change the world.

And then? I realized that the South and Midwest weren't actually that paranoid after all.

Over the last two years I cannot count the times that I or my fellow "Coastal immigrants" have encountered Coasties who would balk at saying anything negative about blacks or gays, but who take no second thought to insulting, stereotyping, and completely dismissing the South, the Midwest, and the millions of people who live there. I cannot count the times that I tell people I'm from Arkansas and they make a derogatory comment or face about either the South or about me. I cannot even recall the many times I've heard blatant bigotry spoken by people with high-caliber educations. From people who believe themselves to be educated, learned, cosmopolitan people. From people that I count as dear and beloved friends.

And the kicker? Most of these "Cosmopolitan people" have never even been to the Midwest or to the South. Some of these people want to travel the whole world, but refuse to go to Chicago because avoiding the Midwest/South is a "personal choice." For those that have ventured out, it was on the ubiquitous cross-country road trip that took them through the lower south or the straight middle. Yes, I admit, if my only experience with the South was the bigotry/poverty of Mississippi/Louisiana/Alabama, I might think that all the prejudice against Southerners I'd been taught growing up was true. But how is coming to that conclusion any different than being raised to hate black people, getting mugged by one and then saying that based on that one real-life experience all black people really are violent, worthless criminals? It's not. It's exactly the same, except that on the Coasts it's not okay to say that about black people anymore.

So here's the thing. Yes, there are lots of things about the South/Midwest that I am ashamed and disgusted by. Yes, there are lots of racists. Yes, it has lots of Protestant religious nuts. Yes, it has lots of poverty. Yes, it has a large rural population. Yes, it has a lot of Bush supporters. Yes, it has thick accents. Yes, it has people who hate women, gays, and anyone other than white men. But you know what? So does the North. So does California. So does Britain. So does pick-your-rural-town-of-choice. Idiots live everywhere. EVERYWHERE. For every KKK member in Mississippi, there's a Skinhead in NY. For every Confederate flag in Tennessee, there's a swastika in LA. For every Baptist preacher calling for the quarantine of all gays, there's a homophobic Catholic lady in Boston voting against gay marriage. For every trailer park-Yankee hating-"The South Will Rise Again" kid, there's a prejudiced/ignorant Coastie with illusions of moral superiority based solely on geography.

So, I'm here to set the record straight, 'cause I'm getting tired of people scowling at me when I tell them there's a job I want in Kansas City. I'm shouting because I'm tired of people treating me like my IQ is 50 points lower just because I'm from Arkansas. I'm bitching because I'm tired of my KC friend in LA getting dissed on by LA men who've never left Southern California in their lives. I'm putting up my fisticuffs because I'm tired of people asking my friend from Arkansas what "coast she's from" like those are the only two places intelligent people live. You know what? She's from the fucking middle.

There's a whole rest of America out there, with amazing music, spectacular novels, ground-breaking science, breath-taking art, fabulous microbrews. And, I admit it, it is a place where liberals sometimes have to fight tooth and nail to make a fucking difference. But doesn't that mean something? It's really easy to have an opinion when everyone else around you believes the same things. It's a lot harder (trust me) when saying what you believe means you might get threatened or ostracized. If there were nothing valid about "the middle," why would liberals stay put? Why wouldn't we all just pick up and move to Manhattan? The fact that there are liberals (and even entire "Blue" areas) shows how much there is to offer in what Coasties see as the amorphous and homogeneous "middle." Athens, GA is not the same culturally as Chicago, although they both have great independent music scenes. Wichita, Kansas has a completely different personality than rural Louisiana, but both offer a feeling of welcome and openness. Northwest Arkansas has more in common with the mountains of Tennessee than it does with the Delta lands of Northeast Arkansas, but all of Arkansas has beautiful, untouched nature unlike any other state. North Dakota is like a little Netherlands, windmills and all; while the Appalachians are like Scotland, fifes and all. During the 1990s, Lincoln, Nebraska was one of the great gay capitals of the US and Omaha became one of the hubs of the independent music scene. Iowa City, Iowa produces some of the best writers in the United States and Jackson, Mississippi is home to the Sweet Potato Queens, the funniest damn women in the country. This amazing diversity has resulted in some of the "great" American music traditions--jazz, rock 'n' roll, bluegrass, MoTown and the blues. It is where the trucker hats and cowboy boots Williamsburg, Brooklyn hipsters have appropriated come from. It is still the land of unmanned produce-stands, where you are trusted to pay for what you take. It is more than just "flyover" country. I may have moved away because of my career, but it's still my home.

I'm not saying that the middle is perfect. Yes, there are still a lot of problems. There is a disproportionate amount of poverty in some areas and an unreasonable amount of hatred in others. I'm not saying that everyone in the middle is "good." I'm not saying that there aren't things in the South that sicken me. I'm also not saying that I hate DC, Boston, NY, or San Francisco or the people I have met there, because I don't. What I am saying is that hating us just because of where we were born isn't going to make America any better. Stereotyping us all as ignorant, racist, and unworthy of respect does nothing for anyone. People like Bush are going to continue to win if things don't change, because, honestly, would you vote for a party whose members were bigoted against you and your family? Who only care about you when it means votes? Who don't even bother themselves with seeing what's out there, even when they have the means to? Probably not.

So the next time you're reading Tennessee Williams, admiring Bill Clinton, framing a print by Thomas Hart Benton, listening to Bright Eyes, or dancing to Nelly, remember that these people did not come from a vacuum. They are not anomalies or freaks. They are Midwesterners. They are Southerners. Most of all they are people.

And they deserve your respect and compassion, not your prejudice.

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