feminist philosophies

I'm reading Feminist Philosophies" and am currently on the essay "Mother/State/Foetus Conflicts" by Christine Overall "

The cornerstone of foetal rights advocates position is the belief that the foetus has a right to life... and the claim that it is alive and a human being. She agrees that the foetus is alive and a human being, but this is where she loses me:

"Although foetal-rights advocates stress the alleged right to life of the foetus, they say virtually nothing of what I believe is another, but more covert set of assumptions: that the foetus has the right to the use of the pregnant woman's body, that that right should be legally protected, and hence that the woman has an obligation not to abort, and to permit any intervention in her body that is thought medically necessary for the sake of the foetus." *jaw drop*

Her supporting argument is a hypothetical example around the idea that though she has a right to life that doesn't give her the right to hook herself up to your body for days, weeks or months on end in order to cure or alleviate her life threatening illness.

"The reason for this is simple: for me to claim the right to the use of your body would be an assertion of ownership, and we know that slavery is wrong. Hence, even if the foetus does have a right to life, it does not follow that the foetus has the right to the use and occupancy of the pregnant woman's body."

I cannot believe this essay made it to print with the arguments above as the core of her pro-choice stance. She makes it seem as thought the foetus is an encroaching alien that has popped up out of nowhere and is demanding that it be accommodated, and that the poor put-upon pregnant woman played absolutely no part in its sudden existence. I am incensed that at no stage has she addressed the reason the foetus is "squatting" in the woman's body; while there are always exceptions, most women who find themselves pregnant own some of the responsibility.

This is a tough issue and after a LOT of thought I am neither pro-life or pro-choice. I believe a woman absolutely has the right to decide what happens to her body. I also believe in the sanctity of life, and if a woman has consensual sex she gives a foetus the right to her body. Therefore if she finds herself pregnant she has obligated herself to act responsibly.

It's irrelevant what anyone except what the pregnant woman think she should do about an unwanted pregnancy, and irrational arguments like Overall's undermine's the pro-choice stance and a womans right to should she choose to terminate.

jamaican link up

DEAR sweet lord...isnt there an expiry date on implants?

Yow..de sight of her pap dung *pums and rev out baddy is making me puke...and those dead ass implants just chillin on her mummified carcass..yeeesssh...
..Some people should know when to just pack it in in goddammit...das why I plan to pump iron til the lord tek me!....yikes...

Peace

W (Wayne McGregor)
*yep.. that would be a reference to her saggy vagina.

reality tv me

I've said to my sister the clutterbunny/I'll wear whatever I want-er "I should Clean House you" and "I'm gonna What Not To Wear you", but ever since I jokingly said to x about her difficult 7 year old "you need Super Nanny or something" I've been wondering if it's really possible to solve all your problems through reality tv.

I'm possibly being extreme in casting that statement since my knowledge of tv's voyeuristic offerings is limited, but it's certainly a sign that with only that limited knowledge, and basic cable I still see so many shows that are about fixing people, AND to boot not being a great follower still find myself speaking in reality - c'mon "I'm going to "clean house" you??

This is the part of this post where I should start thinking of random problems and matching them with a show, but seriously it's 10am, I'm still in bed, and that's just asking too much. So just take my word for it, or if that's a problem... reality tv me.
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On a seperate note, I just joined "twenty something bloggers" this week. I'm soooo interested in a network that helps twenty somethings discover and be discovered, but mostly I'm hitting the 20 something homestretch, and so help me I refuse to relinquish my 20s quietly. Therefore as of 28, I will be taking any excuse to show off my 20something-ness. Ok, ok. here's what really happened: the 20sb handle screamed "naa nah nah nah boo boo... you'd better join now or you'll never be able to!" Mocking laughter and all. I'm telling you.. it really happened. Why don't you care about approaching thirty, mosey on over to the site, read their intro and see what happens to you? Hey, when you get signed up.. look me up as a friend will ya?

garden decimated

"...still, all I can see is the sweetness of your passing;
like a snail's silvery trail in a garden decimated."
- me

save planet blogger.. recycle a post today!

My friend Kathy says in her song "i wear my heart on my sleeve, it's gonna be the death of me".

Well Dearest, I've discovered a new phenom. - A generation that wears its life on its screen. I feel anomalous, disoriented, and thrilled.

Hmmmm..... seriously?

We're all looking for signs that there's a being/force that's got our back, and I for sure found mine in the dancing deadlines of the last two school years: I NEVER missed a deadline despite my very best efforts.

I'm pretty conscientious about my grades and my reputation as a student, but occasionally I didn't get my homework done in time for class, was behind on a project, or wasn't completely prepared for a test, on EVERY single one of those occasions without fail the date for that test/assignment/project would be pushed back (are you getting this? I mean every single time, and without me ever having to ask for extensions - EVER I mean.. EVER).

It's impossible for me to explain how freakish that is. freakishly beautiful of course... can you imagine events shifting in your favour? Everytime? And without solicitation.

Since I no longer have deadlines for my classes, I've been wondering if/how that cloud of serendipity will shift. Fast forward to this morning, My note from the universe said:

Remember the joy you used to feel when you'd find a quarter lying in the street?
And how exciting it was when you got older and found a crumpled $20 bill in the pocket of a pair of jeans you hadn't worn in months?
Well brace yourself, Adaela, because the day isn't far off when in-between taking naps, swimming laps, and doing the routine happy dance, you'll be busy gathering documents for your tax return preparer and suddenly you'll find a statement to a bank account you don't even remember opening, with more than enough money in it to do whatever it is your heart now longs to do.
You do trip us out.

Sure enough,
The Universe

Naturally I scoffed, "TUT, I love your little notes, but you sure have missed the mark today! I won't be gathering documents for a tax preparer, and I'm pretty sure I don't have any money I don't know about!"

Well, here's what happened. Last week I received a notification from my bank issuing me a new PIN with the explanation a clearing house that had processed a payment against my account had been breached, so a new card had been issued. The card had arrived and was languishing among the unsorted mail until I found it just now, so I went to grab what looked like the notification with the PIN, instead it was a piece of mail postmarked March 4, 08 telling me that an investment account I started had matured in March... '08. I'm guessing my sister collected mail for me on a trip to Jamaica and forgot to deliver it, and I missed seeing it on a myriad of opportunities before now.

Freakish... ly beautiful. Sorry TUT.com, you clearly rule and I am just a silly plebe who may never fathom your ways.

I hear ya universe.

Simply Put

My mom took care of me so well I coasted into my late teens petrified of facing life as an adult. Petrified. As in I could not even think of how I could put one foot ahead of the other, much less figure out who I was and what I wanted to be. It wasn't until I dropped out of college, went back to high school and bombed it, dabbled around in this and that, wished I'd never been born, A LOT, and all in all almost drowned in so much self pity I got carted off to a shrink for some bullshit diagnoses that I took myself firmly in hand, asked the hard questions, and kinda started to get it right. ish.

For a while there when I first started to get the hang of I felt it was such an injustice that noone had ever explained me that the good Life didn't happen to you just cause you were born. Or that if you wanted anything out of it, it meant thinking about things, making choices, and all the stuff required to steer yourself down your chosen path. Or that steering yourself isn't something you can ever take a break from, and that a part of that would be accepting that no matter how hard you try, a lot of it is still beyond your control, but best part; the fact that you can control how you take it on, and what you make of it is completely within your control. And that's the real joy of life. The whole point. Right there.

I'm pretty proud of myself for figuring that out all by myself, but sometimes I forget it. Like today, when I am wishing I could just walk out my front door and into my dream job making a difference in the lives of people who need it. I just want to touch people, somehow help them to step into the reality I know, where there are tools to help you heal, a place where you can embrace who you are, resources that are enough so noone has to starve, skills to take care of selves and families.

And I don't care if I ever earn a dime for it. I just want to everyday go someplace where I can help, and there are so many people out there dying for someone who wants to help.... so how comes I'm sitting on my couch aching with frustation because this didn't turn out to be as easy as googling "volunteer jobs", and how comes doing a "good thing" became so hard?

I know the universe has me covered on this -I mean we totally covered this in the game plan, but it's tough going at the moment, cause I just can't figure out what my next move is.

I stopped moving for a while there because I got scared by all the reasons I can't. But if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go reacquaint myself with all the reasons I can, and see what google has to say about making a difference.

In the meantime, if you know of any organizations that are willing to fund me making a difference -preferably for women and/or children in developing countries.. holla at a girl with some info will you? And if perchance you're an organization looking for such a person... listen up, you've found your girl and I've got the resume and recommendations to prove it.

Ohh, Jeff Buckley.

I am looking outside and it is very odd to equate 6:55am with the darkness resting on everything. It's been a while since I've sat in its stillness and I am disappointed that morning is spreading lavender behind the neighbouring building.

Sometimes, I am so moved by a moment I wish I could freeze it and live in it for the rest of my life, or at least a little bit longer than its allotted time. Sometimes( read today) wishes are enough; I actually AM eager for the progression of today so that other people can be up and at their jobs where I can call them about things, and so I can continue work on Flower Girl.

Nevertheless, it seems almost barbaric that the bustle of daylight will infect this stillness so I have closed the blinds, can someone please tell me when it's over?

Would you believe this post is not about any of these things? And since I have decided I'd rather sit here in the dark until daylight starts leaking through the blinds... this post isn't about anything at all.

Have a gorgeous day.

Oh.. Jeff Buckley? I love. lavender morning reminded me of lilac wine. and well... i'll use any excuse to talk about Jeff.

let's get intimate...

I was standing at the sink this morning when I had an epiphany, it's too early yet to say what it is, but it's a'comin, and while we wait I'd like to take this opportunity to coin the phrase "sinkiphany".

I like to start my mornings with a soundtrack, so I started trusty ol' ipo' (I know.. that's an unbelievably clever name for my ipod) at D for Devendra Banhart and grooved into the kitchen to tackle the dishes. As I'm standing there minding my own business and showing burnt cruds and pineapple crumbs who's boss, Ipo' starts to play an african sounding song - there is music on there I'm still learning. At any rate... as soon as that first africanesque note rang out I started feeling all achey.

In case you had not read this - which opens in a new window, I was in a relationship with an african guy who turned out to be the granddaddy of all liars. I've been pragmatic about the whole thing, as the end of the relationship wasn't really a great surprise, its precipitation on the other hand was a great shocker.

Anyhow, clever banter aside, as I stood at the sink exploring this achiness that drenches me everytime I am reminded of him, I had to acknowledge that it doesn't matter that I knew we had a shelf life... when he betrayed my trust something inside me went away.

I don't know what it is, and I'm pretty sure it's coming back.... but it's a motherfucker, this pain. (I wasn't actually going to use that word but Ipo' is now onto: eels "it's a motherfucker"- how serendipitous), (also I really need to stop with the random details). Anyhoo, everytime I acknowledge his betrayal mattered, it's a showdown between that truth and kick ass and take names big girls don't cry and he's soo not worth it attitude in my head that stops me in my tracks to grip whatever is handy. close eyes tightly. and breathe. just breathe past the achiness.

Of course, I know it's a part of the healing process and with every showdown whatever went away regenerates a little. But holy hell... let's talk about growing pains! Kinda like when I take my nose ring out and the hole starts to close, I know I can take it and it will be over in an instant... but once I get to the largest part of the hump getting the sucker back in hurts so bad I can't see how it will ever end, and let me tell you, I'm a girl with a ridiculously high tolerance for pain.

Ok, I'm done with the horrible analogies now. I guess the thing is I'm human, and this pain isn't about him or our sham of a relationship, these are just my own growing pains. So, yeah universe.. this is totally what I signed up for... but can we do something about the degree of pain you snuck into the fine print? Sneaky little bugger you.

In other news.. I've got two drawings marinating. Flower girl and meteor.

Change

My daily messages from tut.com really do feel like shots from the universe straight to my euphoria bank (go ahead.. click it, it opens in a new window). I rise and smile every time.

3.11.09

Sometimes when you're ready for a change, Adaela, and you kind of know it but won't admit it, when it comes, not only are you surprised, but it hurts.

Yeah, I know that doesn't help much, unless you remember the "ready" part. Because there is simply no change that might ever transpire in time and space that happens before you're fully able to use it for your own growth and glory.

Love watching you create,
The Universe

They all come with a post script:

So hey, Adaela, may as well just act like you had personally requested it, and soar. Because, truthfully, you did, and, honestly, you can

It's all relative.. but is it all right?

I was standing at the kitchen sink when I wondered if choosing to conceal one of the most me things about me means I think it’s bad… seems I have a lot of epiphanies at the kitchen sink… but that’s besides the point. I don’t think it’s bad. I’m a scholar of “it’s all relative and there is no wrong or right/black and white; it just IS”. But if it’s all relative means it’s not wrong, does that mean it’s right?

I bulletin-ed short bursts of my personality and moods, and occasionally longer posts a few times a day when myspace was my forum. I am disappointed to admit that now that I've gone public, I publish only longer posts because I'm trying to ermm.... conceal that I flit from one lightning burst of feeling/thought to another.

Don't get twisted, I am completely delighted every day by this feature of me, and my friends yo-yo across the spectrum of annoyed:amused depending on the time of day/social situation - I’d like to think mostly amused since they’re still my friends. My reservation about letting that leak into my blog’s personality is the inevitability of the judgements that will be made about me based on my posts; and since I have to choose I would prefer to showcase the more thoughtful side of me than the completely random... plus those amusing/insightful/dramatic/insert more things off the spectrum of adjectives bulletins are mostly pics grabbed from google or random thoughts, and seriously I'd like people to know there's more to me than pirated images and one liners...although I’ve seen blogs of that kind that are deeelightful.

The truth though is, try as you might, and as successfully as you think you're sneaking along you can never really hide who you are. And why would you want to? I've never been a proponent of sameness, and I know it takes all kinds of things to make up a personality… and in turn those bold enough to be firmly who they are mix up things a little bit.

However, let’s all understand that self esteem is of the highest importance to the quality of our survival among our peers. If you’re not one of the (1)“cool” kids, you either need to go someplace where your brand of weird is considered cool; fashion some sort of psychological tourniquet, or watch your bright prospects slink away in response to the inevitable ridicule or at best indifference of the general populace. Against that, I wondered if the argument of relativity was a shield to protect the timid egos of the less cool among us from our different-ness.

(2)Oh, I’m fine with me.. think I’m just perfect the way I am. All my beatific traits plus my annoying habits… OCD tendencies.. knowitallness are an adventure that I look forward to and revel in everyday. But what about the people who have horrendous personalities that wreak absolute havoc on others - I don’t think any examples are required- is it really fair for them to say they cannot be judged as bad, or for me to hide behind the argument of relativity and deny them same?

This could go on to be the argument of relativity that never ends, but the answer is pretty simple, or I guess hugely complicated relative to your process: It really is all relative; it’s also black and white; Or right; Or wrong; it depends on your perspective, since you arrive at your judgement relative to your starting point. So in a quick recap: it really is all relative, and the big question really is… to WHAT?

And since I have you here, would it really be reasonable for us to all dip from a pre-established “good pool” of personality traits, or is it really ok to chalk it up to we can’t all be the same? I think we are all here taking a crack at life in our imperfectness, and whatever your conclusion there has to be room for everyone.

1. and isn’t cool soo relative?
2. this is based on MY perspective… my peeps might say different.
3. bonk the whole thing.. it’s all relative! Otherwise there wouldn’t arguments.. or wars.. or probably anything fun either.
4. This post will morph over time, because if I didn’t post as the above jumble… you would have been denied that peek of my inner workings.
   

apostrophe:purple

Nike. My sister and I say that to each other as a signal of unreserved no holds barred.. don't think about it.. just go ahead and do it dammit encouragement and it's a long running joke between us.

When we were teenagers - she about 17, I; 14-15, she was outside playing sweetheart in the shadow of the camper of my mothers truck; I was playing lookout when she ran inside all smiles and giddiness saying "He wants to kiss me! What should I do? What should I do??"

They had been friends since basic school (PreK) and we had no idea he "liked her liked her", she didn't like him "like that", plus there was a boy at school that she liked and who liked her even though they'd not done anything beyond pine after each other and perhaps flirt. T was both chaste and well chaperoned, and I was the adventure seeking rebel of the litter (of two) who was already getting into shit loads of trouble, that girl should have known better than to ask my advice.

Using a few well placed questions (I was born rational.. really!) - what about what's his face at school? Do you like like boy outside? Do you want to? (of course the answer was yes, no matter how chaste or well chaperoned what teenage girl doesn't want to be kissed?), and knowing that iron grip mummy might never slip and let her have a crack at boy at school, it was agreed that she should toss everything to the wind - or hormones and poor decision making and in my words "Just do it" Just do it" - "Nike" and go kiss boy outside.

A few hours later she came back inside purple lipped and probably smiling until we discovered HUUGE UNHIDABLE dark bruises all over her neck thanks to hoover lips. Seriously, I'm talking about the mothers mothers mother of all hickies that would not budge, and trust me we combed with the desperation of teenagers who knew our lives depended on it. Visualise with me for a moment.. if you knew your life, your future, your chance to see the light of day EVER again depended on being able to banish hickies with a comb.. how hard would you work? Exactly.. we tried damn hard, hell we even took a brush to the damn things!

Needless to say my mom saw them next morning and arrived at the obvious conclusions
a: hickies, and
b: she had obviously not done a good enough job of keeping T away from boy at school.
Mummy was so mad T was banned from any contact with boy at school, and T was so mad she never let hoover lips near her again. She never confessed that it wasn't poor boy at school who'd never even had the courage to try anything like that, because if Mummy knew there was more than one cause for concern she would probably have fashioned a chastity belt immediately of whatever was within reach.. which might have been T's neck, AND never let her see the light of day again. Now if you ask me.. two hours of intense kissing was completely worth it... cause I don't think boy at school would ever have had the balls or the chance to kiss her anyhow.

Not only did I get her into trouble, it was also the piece of bad advice that kept on giving for the better part of ten years because our mother who is like a dog with a bone never let her forget her horrible "transgresson against ironmother". Anyhow, she's never stopped asking my advice, and when it's a situation where it's obvious she should go on ahead and just do it, I always say "Nike" and she laughs and says "I don't know if I should listen to you, when you say that I end up getting into a shit load of trouble." If you ask me, that's a good thing, because it's great to solicit feedback.. but even the most well meaning advice should be taken with a grain of salt.

To be honest though, even though I said so, I really don't think that was bad advice.. hours and hours of kissing... a long running joke that reminds us how happy we are to have each other and how far we've come every single time we giggle about it, plus a great life lesson... I don't think anyone could really dispute how well I did by her - 'cept ironclad mummy, and she doesn't count.

I think I'm at a point in my own life where I need to apply my own advice liberally, but when you're at a crossroads it's tough to ferret out the options.. much less make a decision and "nike". In the meantime... I am so grateful for ironclad mummy, who has mellowed into something a teeny bit more flexible and comfy to lean on, and for T whose existence adds more to my life everday and beyond anything I could have imagined.

Here is apostrophe:purple, which I think is coming along well considering I really hated it at first, but I refused to be defeated by its ugly so I kept plugging away at it... and lemme tell you... there were days I kicked it away or turned it facedown cause I couldn't stand to look at it anymore.
p.s.
I'd also like to add that ironclad mummy had no cause for concern... T brought her virginity tightly clutched into her twenties and gifted it to the man who is now her husband.

Man's best friend

Prepare yourself for a revelation that will blow even "the secret" out of the water - I think. I haven't actually read "the secret" and so have no clue what it is, but I'm guessing from all the hoopla it's a pretty big deal.

It is a common misconception that Dog is a man's best friend. This is completely incorrect, as I know for a fact, procrastination is man's best friend. I've never had such good times as when I'm hanging out with my pal - the ultimate wingman procrastination is always game and will ride with you through anything.

There's only one problem... procrastination is a fair weather friend. When the pied piper comes knocking for whatever results you'd promised... you'll find that procrastination has found a new friend... and hogged up and ran off with all your time to boot.

Anyhow... I welcome it every time it comes knocking... no matter how many times I'm left holding the bag (sans results). It's always a good time to hang with my ol pal.

Having so said, the ol time stealer was here for a visit; and as is wise to sometimes do I gave it the boot. Before I wised up we had a fun time overeating, hanging at the beach, sharing sangria with the girls... dodging dragon boating practice, and not spreading the blogger love.

If you're not a seasoned blogger you might be wondering what blogger love I'm yapping about. San over at A Life With a View graced me with an award, and strict instructions to pick five bloggers to pass it on to.

The award is:

Being a newcomer I'm gonna start off with the handful of blogs I've read so far and really liked, and as my list grows I'll add more.

The Write for The Remaining Silence
I read this entire blog, but I am hard pressed to describe it. It's a mash up of short stories, and dry every day observations of the writer. Go visit.

Artist Victoria McKenzie over at The Night Shift where she writes about her life as a mother and an artist. I am very particular to the fact that her posts are often against the backdrop of Jamaica, it's an interesting look at how she processes the many facets of our culture.

I'm not sure if I can give it back, but I like Sans blog, so I will award it to her as well: A Life With A View. San writes about her life and her work with a wit and humour that had me reading her entire blog. Plus, she believes in levitation.

Aaaand... here's that piece again: Doesn't seem complete, but look at it as I may, I can't feel anything else to do with it: Also, it has been pushed aside by "Apostrophe:Purple" a drawing that has been nagging to get out all weekend. Ok, I have to be honest, Apostrophe:Purple is what gave procrastination the boot.