Arrow: Let the MEN Handle This

*This post contains spoilers for the Season 1 Finale of Arrow, just in case I'm not the last one to have finally gotten around to watching it.

     I literally just finished watching season 1 of Arrow after marathoning it all day, so I may not be terribly coherent in this irritated review of the finale, but hear me out, okay? I really like Arrow. I mean, what's not to like? It's Green Arrow, aka Oliver Queen, who happens to be one of the many DC Comics heroes that I have been in love with since early adolescence. It's no secret that I'm a DC Comics fangirl, so it shouldn't be any surprise that I'm really enjoying this show.

     However, I have a pretty big problem with the way the women are treated in the season finale. Essentially, how Laurel, Thea, and most glaringly Felicity are told, "Sure, you could help, but you're girls. Go hide and be safe while the boys handle this."

     I mean, sure it's great that these men are so set on protecting their friends. I would be fine with it if this applied to their male friends too. I mean, seriously! In Felicity's case, she literally volunteers to diffuse the bomb that only she knows how to diffuse and Oliver vetoes it immediately. He had no trouble when Diggle was going to diffuse it. In fact, instead of letting the girl do it, he calls in Officer Lance to do it instead while she talks him through it.

     Thea risks life and limb to go to the Glades and save Roy, literally making her appearance there by hitting a guy upside the head with a glass bottle who was pointing a gun at Roy. Then, when some others need help, Roy tells her he can't let her stay there and help him help them. He tells her to run and she does, making her entire trip worthless and leaving Roy to help the people dying in the bus.

     Laurel's storyline in the finale is the least troublesome, though I honestly still can't figure out why she was in the Glades anyway after literally everyone told her to stay out. Her father begs her to get out because he thinks he'll be going under with the disaster, so I can't find too much fault with her ordeal.

     It just infuriated me watching these extremely capable women treated as something fragile and precious that couldn't handle saving the city like the menfolk. The men, of course, can risk their lives without a question. Oliver doesn't think twice about risking his own life, agrees to let Diggle come with him only after remembering Officer Lance could help, and conscripts Officer Lance knowing full well that he could easily die going in for Felicity.

     So as much as I wanted to, I really couldn't enjoy the finale of Season 1. I expected better of the creators, especially ones that created such dynamic women that I was really enjoying up to that point. Here's to hoping Season 2 rights those wrongs and lets these women reach their real potential.

Then Why Would She Dress Like That?

A few months back, I had a discussion about sexual harassment with my dad. By discussion, I mostly mean argument, though that's not even because he was disagreeing with me (he wasn't), but because I get passionate about this sort of thing and it makes it difficult for me to think rationally when someone sets me off.
Don't get me wrong, my dad is totally against sexual harassment and a big part of the discussion was "What constitutes sexual harassment?" because it can be difficult for guys to understand why it's a problem when they are rarely on the receiving end. It's hard to understand the undercurrent of fear when they haven't been conditioned to expect sexual harassment/assault whenever they're out in public. Women, as a rule, are taught to always expect it and hope it doesn't happen, though we know it probably will.

This post is about a question that came up during that discussion that I've heard bounced all over the place: "But if she dresses provocatively, why wouldn't one assume it's because she wants sex? Don't some women wear revealing clothes to promote their availability?" It felt like a hard question at the time and feels like one every time I hear it. That's why I'm writing this post: because I never can get the answer out how I want when I'm having the discussion, though it seems so obvious when I think about it.

The simple answer would be that, yes, some women do wear clothing to let men know they're available or willing. But the operating word here is some. And even if that is why the woman has chosen to dress the way she has, that doesn't mean she wants sex with every male that walks by, either.

I could go on and on about that particular aspect of the question, but I want to address the assumption that this is the only reason a woman would dress provocatively in itself. Because when we assume we know what another person is ultimately trying to say with their clothing and/or appearance without bothering to listen to what the person is actually saying, we end up with a culture that not only ends up making wrong assumptions, but also one that defends rape and harassment with "Well, she was asking for it."

John Green makes it simple, "Imagine others complexly." Though he wasn't speaking to this particular issue, the sentiment applies. When we imagine others based on what we want them to be or suppose them to be, we miss out on who they really are and end up making decisions that could, at best, make us miss out on something that might have been great and, at worst, cause us to make decisions that can alter our lives and the lives of others in terrible ways.

There are a hundred reasons why any given woman may dress as conservatively or provocatively as they do on any given day. The only safe assumption to make there is that she dresses that way because she wants to dress that way. Making any further assumption without knowing or asking that person is wrong and a deeply ignorant way to go about things.

For example, when a woman wears a shirt that shows off her cleavage. That doesn't mean she wants to have sex with you or that she wants you to touch them. It doesn't mean that she's a tease or that she's just trying to get attention. She could be any of those things, but not because her shirt is low-cut. And when you assume you know why she chose that particular shirt without bothering to know her or give her the benefit of the doubt, you're the one who is in the wrong. For all you know, this was the only one of her shirts that is clean or maybe she just thinks it's cute. Maybe she just likes her cleavage and, let's be honest, she ought to because cleavage is awesome. But showing cleavage does not make her less than human and it doesn't give you the right to judge that woman or assume anything about her.

On a related note, dealing with sexual harassment and cleavage, when a woman gets upset at you for looking at her boobs, it's usually not because she doesn't want you to see that she has them. I, for one, like my boobs and don't mind that others do too. What I don't like is when you see them instead of a person. When you talk to my boobs instead of me, it's degrading and disgusting and it often brings up that undercurrent of fear that women are instilled with because we can't be sure you'll take no for an answer. We're upset because you're not talking to me, the person, you're talking to the part of me that you want to do something for you.

My point in this post is basically to point out that people act, dress, and make decisions the way they do for a plethora of reasons and when we assume that, as complete strangers, we innately know what those reasons are, we risk making some major mistakes that hurt ourselves and everyone around us. "Imagine others complexly" and let their words do the talking, not just their clothes. It's rare that we decide a man wants sex because he wore a fancy shirt, a tank top, or shorts above the knee, so let's stop assuming that the only reason a woman wears something that she likes is because she wants it. People wear what they wear because they have chosen to wear it. That is it. It's that simple.

*All pictures were taken off of Pinterest and are not property of the author.

Feminist And Proud!

I used to be one of those women who claimed that I was not a feminist. It used to drive my deeply feminist best friend up a wall.

"Do you believe that women should have the right to vote?" she would ask me.
"Yes"

"Do you think that women and men should be paid the same for doing the same job?"
"Of course."

"Do you believe that women are any less important than men?"
"No."

"You're a feminist."

Yet I would still go on claiming that I was most definitely not a feminist and that feminism was just this grasping attempt for certain militant women to do their best to overrun all the males in the country.

Then I had some sense knocked into me. I'm not really sure what convinced me that I'm a feminist. It was probably the combined efforts of my best friend and how much time I spend reading and, therefore, coming across literature that explains the things I don't really understand. (Also, Youtube. There are some pretty kick-ass feminists on there that have helped me straighten out a thing or two in the way I think. ie. Laci Green, HayleyGHoover, etc.)

If you look up "feminism" in the dictionary, this is what you'll find:

It is "the advocacy of women's rights on the grounds of political, societal, and economic equality to men."

It's not trying to be better than men. It's not trying to dominate the world, become lesbians, and burn our bras. (I happen to like my bras. I don't intend to get rid of them while they still have use to me.) It's about being treated like we are also human. Feminism is about being respected as fellow human beings, and not as objects. 

This is why I'm so confused when I meet someone who claims they're not a feminist. Or, at least, I would be confused if I hadn't gone through the same thing a few years ago. The problem we're facing here can be narrowed down to this:

People haven't been educated in what it means to be a feminist. The things that they have been told are wrong and it's extremely difficult to refute the things that are so fully ingrained in our minds from birth.

It's strange and sad to me when I have conversations with other women about women's rights or dealing with a particular misogynistic asshole who has shown his deep disrespect for women very clear. These women are always on the same page all the way until I drop the word "feminist." It's like I've just called them a terrorist!

"That's not even feminism! That's just respecting women!" they tell me. Or, "Actually, I'm not a feminist, but I agree with everything else you said."

And when I explain that women's rights/respecting women as equal humans IS WHAT FEMINISM IS ALL ABOUT, I get that blank expression that tells me they're not even really sure what I'm talking about anymore. I just have to shrug and walk away, hoping that seed I just left will take root and they'll eventually look back and say, "Oh! That's what she was talking about!"

I'm a feminist and I'm proud to call myself that. Feminism isn't a dirty word. It isn't an insult. In fact, it ought to be a compliment. It means I'm not afraid to state that I will fight for the rights of women. It means I respect my own gender as well as the opposite sex. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Republicans vs. Democrats

The United States presidential elections are coming up.

This is probably no surprise to you if, like me, your newsfeed is getting blasted with about fifty political banners and criticisms every day. It's getting exhausting already and a part of me just wants to hibernate until January.

Don't get me wrong, the presidential election is incredibly important. YOU NEED TO VOTE. Not voting is probably about the stupidest thing you can do this fall, other than selling your home so you can afford all the useless crap you're going to buy on Black Friday. But that's not what I want to talk about here.

What I want to talk about is the demonization of opposing political parties.

You see, I consider myself a libertarian, which is to say I'm conservative with a good deal of democratic beliefs (ie. I'm pro-life and pro-marijuana*). Therefore, I don't consider myself either Republican or Democratic, though I'm more likely to vote Republican than Democratic if it comes down to one or the other. (This is majorly because being anti-abortion is the most important thing to me, above all other political issues.).

Growing up mostly around Republicans, I grew up thinking that most Democrats didn't know what they were talking about. I assumed that the left was full of ignorance and ill-intent and that you would have to be a moron to consider yourself as such. As I got older, however, I started to see things in a new light. I made friends with people who were highly intelligent and deeply concerned about the state of our nation that identified with the Democratic party. Furthermore, when I discussed certain political standpoints with them, they actually made sense.

I then started to notice that there were many Republicans who had no idea what they were talking about and simply took the stances they did out of fear, ignorance, or in an attempt to fit in. They hadn't really thought through why they believed what they did. They simply accepted their initial inclination as fact and worked from there. I'm not saying all Republicans are this way. I know just as many highly intelligent Republicans as I do Democrats; the same goes for ignorant ones.

This is the point I'm trying to make: We need to stop demonizing one party or another. We can't keep going around acting like because we're Democrats or because we're Republicans, we're somehow better than everyone else.

The way I see it, both Democrats and Republicans are wrong about a lot of things. But they're also right about a lot of things. It's our narrow-minded inability to empathize and see things from a different point of view that keeps us from growing. Sometimes it's worth it to consider your "enemy's" argument. Considering it never means that you have to accept it.

I suppose that's the end of my rant, but I hope I gave all of y'all something to think about. So the next time you're in an argument from an opposing party member, please don't just shut them out. You never learn if you don't listen. Just hear what it is they have to say. You don't have to agree, but you might just learn something new . . . and look a tad less ignorant.

*Saying I'm pro-marijuana doesn't mean I advocate smoking/taking it while it's illegal. Nor does it mean that I do it. I just don't believe it ought to be illegal and ought to be treated like alcohol, legal but only for those above a certain age (18) and not to be used while or before driving.

I Might Just Be Mental

Sometimes I feel like my laptop is a sentient being.

When I'm reading a particularly good book or have an idea that keeps turning itself over in my head, this little MacBook Air of mine seems to loom bigger and bigger in my mind as if it's calling out to me.

"Write!" it pesters incessantly. "Why aren't you writing? Aren't you the one who calls yourself an aspiring author?"

Of course I want to write. The problem is multifaceted and cumulates in a lack of focus and far too many ideas ricocheting off the boundaries of my mind. Nothing's cohesive. I know where I want to go with some stories and the premise of others, but it's like the moment I've got that going for me, by brain freezes up and my fingers seize.

My laptop scoffs. "Maybe you should just give up," it jeers. "Everyone else is better at this than you. They've all at least finished a rough draft of their manuscripts. You just keep getting stuck after the first ten chapters then ditching it and it's cluttering up my files."

I sneer and go back to reading or watching YouTube, doing my best to ignore its nagging. I have to figure out how I want the opening to work. I have to hash out the story first. I can't write down some half-baked idea and call it a manuscript.

"That's what editing's for, dimwit. It doesn't have to be perfect the first time around."

But I want it to be perfect the first time around! I want it to be the potential I see it having. And I have other things to do. This isn't my entire life after all.

"Isn't it what you want your entire life to be? Writing? Publishing books?"

Shut up! I'm doing the best I can. I'm reading like a maniac over here, trying to learn as much as I can through what others have done. As John Green would say, it's the best apprenticeship I've got.

"You just ended that sentence with 'I've got'."

I groan. That's besides the point. The point is that I'm learning right now. You can't expect me to do everything at once.

"Practice makes perfect. You can set a little time aside at the very least. What was that quote you used to be so fond of? Oh yeah, 'The way you define yourself as a writer is that you write every time you have a free minute. If you didn't behave that way you would never do anything.' -John Irving. Or 'Learn as much by writing as by reading.' -Lord Acton. Or even that one from Ray Bradbury, that author you look up to so much, 'Quantity produces quality. If you only write a few things, you're doomed.' I win."

Not fair! You can't just bombard me with quotes I like and win the argument just like that. Okay, maybe you've got a point. *sigh* Fine, I'll get to writing already. I'm not saying I'm gonna type up a novel in the next week, but I promise I'll stop procrastinating somewhat and at least write for an hour or two every day. Scout's honor.

"You weren't a girl scout. They didn't let you in the troop because the lead mom hated you, remember?"

Enough with the low blows already. You already won.

Just let me finish one more chapter of Suite Scarlett first. Things are getting intense right now . . .

The Skinny Obsession

Just to warn you right off the bat: this is going to one of those rage blogs. You know, the one where the blogger rants about something that majorly pisses them off. Yeah, that kind.

And the thing that has been majorly pissing me off as of late is our culture's seeming obsession with being skinny. There is nothing more inherently frustrating or disgusting to me than the fact that so many beautiful women are convinced that unless they reach that size 0 body, they can never be attractive or beautiful.

You have got to be kidding me.

I shouldn't have to tell you that Marilyn Monroe, the icon of sexiness, was a size 16. Neither should I have to tell you that the average jean size of American women is in the double digits. It should be more than obvious that being overweight is far healthier than being underweight.

I spend a great deal of time on Pinterest, I'll admit that right out. I love the creativity that can be found there. I spend most of my time looking at tattoos, crazy colored hair, and nerdy greatness. Seeing what friends of mine find inspiring is another great thing about the site, but I am beyond sick and tired of the "dream body" posts.

In modern culture, it seems that being skinny is the ultimate goal. Eating disorders are running rampant, both girls and guys are working themselves to the bone exercising for the purpose of feeling better about themselves, and I don't know how many PARENTS I've heard criticizing their children when it comes to their weight. (Seriously, if you don't shut your mouth, I'm liable to shut it for you. How dare you?)

Speaking from the standpoint of a girl who has dealt with insecurity concerning my body, my personality, and basically every aspect of who I am; I breaks my heart and frustrates me beyond belief that we allow ourselves to have this mindset, much less encourage it. Losing weight should not be at the top of our list of priorities. "Being skinny" should not be looked at as the only way to assure happiness or confidence in oneself.

Seriously? What ever happened to loving ourselves for who we are? What ever happened to just being yourself and not caring what the rest of the world has to say about it?


Look, let me be brutally honest here: Being skinny isn't all it's cracked up to be. You're never going to be skinny enough to satisfy your insecurity. Because insecurity is something that will cling to you until you force yourself to get rid of it.

I'm all for getting in shape of that's what you want. I'm all for getting healthy and making sure you have a long life. I'm all for wanting to be strong. Those are all worthwhile endeavors. Being skinny? Not so much.

Insecurity isn't something you can fix by heeding its demands. Insecurity is a beast that, if you keep on feeding it, will keep on growing and consume you. Learn to love yourself. Learn to be happy with who you are. It's going to be a battle and it'll probably be a long one if my own story is any indication. You are beautiful. You don't have to be a size 0 for that to be true. You just have to be you.

Less than Human

I'm currently reading The Help by Kathryn Stockett. It's a New York Times Bestseller and has recently had a movie adaptation of it hit the big screen. The fact that Emma Stone plays one of the leads had me interested before I even heard the premise of the story.

The premise, it turns out, is about civil rights in the early sixties, back when my parents were mere toddlers.  The book follows the story of three women, one white and two colored, dealing with the racial inequality of the day. It's a story about standing up for yourself and standing up for others. It's a story about racial discrimination that seems so long ago, but was really only a few short years ago.

I won't go into detail about the book. My review of the book will be up in a couple of days on my other blog, Booklist That. That's not what I really want to talk about.

Sitting back and reading this book, I can't help but feel aghast at what passed as acceptable behavior just fifty short years ago. That anyone would treat another human being with the kind of disrespect and condescending nature that was bestowed upon anyone who wasn't white is just disgusting. It legitimately makes me sick that this was considered appropriate.

I don't even know how to put into words how messed up that is.

This wasn't that long ago, though. This was less than a lifetime ago. Only five decades ago, people treated those with differently colored skin like they were nothing better than well-trained animals. Seriously?! I mean, what the hell is that? How can anyone look at that and think it's okay?

But the thing that pisses me off more than that is the fact that some people still think this way. Some people still call black people the "n" word behind their backs. Some people still keep their distance like they're going to get their wallet stolen. The fact that I have black friends that can't so much as stop for gas in certain Southern towns. It makes me want to vomit.

And don't even get me started on how racism has affected Hispanics in the States. It's like people were told to lay off the blacks, so they switched to the Mexicans -- making jokes about illegal immigration, indicating that they're less intelligent than someone with paler skin.

It's that kind of thing that makes me ashamed of being a Southerner.

People are different. That's a fact that people have to come to terms with sooner or later. Some people will have darker skin, some will have paler skin. Some will like loud music, some will only listen to instrumental. Some will have different political, religious, or philosophical point of views than yourself.

THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT OKAY TO ABUSE THEM OR TREAT THEM LIKE THEY ARE LESS THAN HUMAN. EVER.

It's never okay to treat someone like they are disgusting because they are different. The world isn't ever going to get any better until we learn that.

In the words of one of Michael Harmon's characters in his book, Brutal, "It's all the small things we accept that make this world such a crappy place."

So stop accepting it. When you see things like this, you have a responsibility to do something about it. You have a responsibility to change things.

The Hunger Games: First Impression

I have heard so much about this book that I suppose I was expecting something on par with any of my favorite books. Ever a fantasy lover, I picked up the Hunger Games after the many raving reviews I heard and expected a great literary thriller on par with Starlighter by Bryan Davis or something of that nature.
What I received, after reading only the first chapter, is a thick wave of disappointment. Now before you start attacking me here, I am only on the first chapter and I do plan to continue reading. Prim has just been chosen for the Games (don't act like that's a spoiler-- it's on the back of the book) and I want to know what happens next.
The plot line itself isn't what bothers me. Up to this point, it's kept my attention, which is more than I can say for the first chapter of quite a few good books.
No, what irritates me is Mrs. Collins' writing. Her style is odd and disconnected, though written in first person and hard to read. Perhaps I'm expecting too much, having just finished the second book in the Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini only hours ago, but I still can't rid myself of this distaste quite yet. Her grammar is atrocious and makes me feel like I have that itch that's just under my skin, so that no matter how hard I scratch, the irritating feeling can't be eradicated.
Okay, I'll stop ranting before the pitchforks and torches start lining up outside of my apartment. I would like to be able to go to the bookstore in peace. However, if the novel continues in this fashion, I doubt I'll be shelling out any more euros for the rest of the trilogy.

See my review upon actually finishing the book here. :)