Tuesday, January 27, 2009

What kind of god is that?

I must have blocked this from my mind at the time it happened. Some things are too horrific to think about, especially when there is nothing you can do about them. But today on the radio someone mentioned it again. I was driving at the time and nearly had to pull over to vomit. As it was, a huge wave of grief rose up inside me and poured out of me in violent sobs.

A 13 year old girl is raped. Gang-raped. Hurt. Terrified. Bullied. Beat up. Injured. Violated. Treated like meat.

Somebody's precious daughter, somebody's beloved child.

And instead of being helped, cared for, and comforted, she is accused of adultery, dragged out to an arena, buried up to her neck, then stoned to death by 50 MEN, while she begged for mercy.

"Please, please, don't kill me!"

Somebody's precious daughter, somebody's beloved child.

Who are these men? Why are they so vicious, so cowardly, so power-hungry? Didn't God create little girls? Doesn't God love what God created? What kind of God wants little girls to be brutally murdered by crowds of men? What kind of god is that? What kind of god needs to be protected from little girls by a gang of bloodthirsty thugs? What kind of god is that? That is a man-made god, created in man's image to excuse man's vile acts.

Tonight I am going home and taking my 13 year old daughter in my arms, and I'm never letting her go.

Somebody's precious daughter, somebody's beloved child.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Wrong Thong

This is the generation gap: my 13 year old comes to me and idly says, "I don't see why people say that thongs are uncomfortable."

I say, "oh, I don't think they're uncomfortable. I wore thongs everyday when I was a child."

Daughter stares at me. "You did?"

"Sure," I say, "remember I grew up in warm climates. We either wore thongs or nothing at all."

Daughter stares at me, eyes wide. "Wha-a-a-t?"

"Well, except for school," I say, "we had to wear good shoes for school. We couldn't wear our flip flops for school, only for play."

Daughter laughs with great, hilarious relief. "Flip flops! I was talking about thong underwear!"

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

If I were a lesbian

Sometimes I play a game with myself: If I were a lesbian..what would I find attractive in a woman?
(Not trying to offend anyone here, straight or gay, it's just a quirky mental exercise.)

The way this game came about is a little weird: I was attempting to write a romance novel and I just couldn't get the female characters down. The men were easy - I know what I like about men, I know what's attractive about men. But women - what do men like about women? What's attractive in a woman's style, attitude, face, figure, voice? I mean, I know what I see on TV shows and movies: big boobs, long legs, blonde hair, big eyes, pouty lips, voice maybe a little husky. But most women don't fit that description, and most of us find romance just the same. So no matter what Hollywood thinks is a man's ideal woman, it ain't necessarily accurate. And I didn't want all my female characters to be busty, long-legged, blonde sex sirens. I wanted them to be

So I began looking at women in a different way: I tried to be a man, tried to make my straight female brain think like a straight male brain. It was really tricky. My brain got very tired. You know, boobs just don't turn me on. I can't figure out why men like boobs so much.
Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike boobs - I'm very friendly with my own pair, I like them just fine, but I don't get the big deal than men make over them (in general, not mine in particular).
So then I had to think like a woman again and figure out what it was about men that I like so much: the sound of a man's voice, the lower timbre, I like that very much; whiskers, kissing a face rough with whiskers; the angles of a man's face, neck, shoulders - subtly different than a woman; muscles. I guess I don't know why - the mystery is a part of the attraction, right?

So then I tried looking at women as if I was a woman attracted to women: and that was interesting to me. I - the imaginary I- am not attracted to famous Hollywood sex symbol starlet types. (Probably because I'm not a man.)

What I am discovering (because this is an ongoing game), is that the women who are appealing to my imaginary other self, are women with soft, gentle personalities, some of them are women that might be called "mousy" (in another time and another generation). They are not beautiful, according to modern standards, but they are pretty in their own way. They are modest, they are not overdone with stylish clothes, hairstyles or make up - although they dress neatly and nicely, and wear make up. I've only seen these women in public places and did not know them personally, so this is really an incomplete experiment. My very brief encounters with them include exchanges like "Paper or plastic?" and "Have a nice day," and "Here, let me get that door for you..."

Then there are my friends, the various women I've known throughout my life - and none of them are women I would be attracted to if I were a lesbian. They've been great friends, but I can't imagine a romantic attachment. My best friends in my life have been women who were gregarious, joyful, big-hearted, funny, world-embracing types, the opposite of my own shy, wallflower, vuja-de (see my other blog), shrinking from the world type personality.

Anyway, I have no idea where this post is going, just that it's always interesting trying to see things from a different perspective. I have to go rest my brain now and watch a Russell Crowe movie.