Bloggy McBlogster:-)

Hi, my name is Shemeka and I am a recovering fun addict.

(Group Responds): Hi, Shemeka.

my Saturday night with Darby....
What should I say about this night that induced massive drunkeness and laughter? Who is Darby? Why did I go there? All of your questions shall be answered.

Darby is the President of the South Hampton Roads Chapter of William and Mary Alumni, graduated '04 MBA. She lives in Virginia Beach and is married to a big bald guy named Curtis, who likes to drink and be crude ( I LOVE me some Curtis!). I went to her house to just chill and hangout because she said they would be hanging out by the pool and playing some pool and drinking. So I decided that hey I have nothing better to do with my Saturday night than to hang out with some pretty cool people and their kegerator:-).

So I arrive at said location and am introduced to a few people I don't know and see people I know - including Fred, the Demolished. Fred, who is the webmaster for our Chapter and also Darby and Curtis's ex-roommate WM Class of '04 MBA, was completely smashed by the time I walked in the door sometime around 10pm. Smashed, playing pool and really loud!

I am immediately informed by Curtis that I will have to leave his house if I don't have a drink. ***Note*** This is where the trouble starts actually becuase if you haven't been drinking on a regular basis, your stomach is close to empty and that first drop of cold sweet, sweet beer hits your tongue - you basically lose all intentions that you had to stay moderately sober in the first place. So here I am with my first beer, chatting and having a great time when Fred comes over with a second drink letting me know that I am behind - its a rum and coke - a jack sparrow rum and coke - a "where has the coke gone? mooooostly RUM!" rum and coke. So I am trying to double fist when I get recruited into a pool game. If you know me, you know I don't play pool - no good at all. I am not even going to recreate all the innuendo that was going on in this game.

After the game of pool, I wandered into the kitchen for some munchies. I am on the next rum and no-coke at this point. It is barely after midnight. Somehow Darby and I got in to a shake your jubblies contest. Don't ask! Which had Curtis calling all of the other male types into the kitchen to see. It was over by the time they got there. However, on his umpteenth drink, Fred is a quite handsy individual once he is soberless. So he leans over and tells me that he dates black women and at this point I have decided that Fred doesn't actually look too terrible. He asks to mix my next rum and coke..... doesn't matter I am already adrunkl by this point.

I am then challenged. And when I say challenged I mean that someone actually thought in their right mind (ok she was drunk) that she (and she was pigmentally challenged) could out sing me. This was not a good plan. So I belted out some Rent, Wicked, Mariah, Gloria Gaynor, and Whitney just for the fun of making her cry. Ok she didn't really cry but everyone could tell she obviously couldnt hold a candle to me which in turn got ME a slap on the but with the ping pong paddle! It hurt - guess who did it? Fred. nuff said....

At this point, five rum and no-cokes and a beer, I am decidedly smashed and ready to fall over. I lay down on the couch. It feels excellent and decide that a little nap is in order. I awaken at somewhere around four in the morning feel gross but ok enough to drive home. I stumle out into the dark night........

After college, you think your adventures and exploits will end - but "To live, to live - that would be an awfully big adventure."

Dating Disaster

Ok so originially this was going to be post whining and ranting about the incongruity of being single versus being paired and how married/coupled people no longer understand your dilemna.. esp if you are a single woman. However something much more important was brought to my attention by my best friend's blog and she should probably sue me for plagurism but its not my fault that she just puts things twice as elegantly as I can in some situations.

Speaking of which, below she talks about something that I had to recognize as truth in some respects. Especially since I was a victim of something that is a result of men's insecurities. Last night a guy told me that if we got a house together that it would be in his name because I would never be able to tell him "get out of my house." Never mind you that, if this relationship were to go anywhere, in the future, I would probably be the one making more money and I already have better credit.... what sense would it make to have a home in his name? none. I told him this but he was more concerned about who would have the control in the relationship. Men.. need I say more? Read on......


Dwindling Libido by Sexy Thought

What is up with men these days?! Has the world turned upside down? Is this the cause of current administrative reversion to pre-hippy revolution time?

A few friends and I have been making note of or experiencing a decline in men’s sexual desire. More accurately, it is men’s inability to perform when and how needed that has become more noticeable. Men have increasingly become preoccupied with other things and have begun to behave in a manner we would traditionally attribute to women.

I first started to have this experience early in college. I am the type of person that doesn’t really have sex often. And although I really like sex, I would rather not have it than to have it sparsely. So, I would rather wait for a partner that is reliable. This means that I want to wait for a guy who will give it to me, good and consistently. I don’t want anyone I have to hunt down to pleasure me, better yet pleasure me well. So, when the guy that I was dating would say that he wasn’t in the mood or do little things like that, it annoyed the hell out of me. Particularly since I am of the mindset that relationships should be fairly equal. Meaning that we should both be able to set the terms of our interaction. Neither one of us needs to feel like we are pestering the other. And most of all, we have intimate relations on both of our terms, when one or both of us want it, not simply when he wants it. I am a product of the post-sexual revolution era.

Recently, it seems that this has been occurring to me and everyone around me. We can’t seem to get it when we want it (and how hasn’t even entered the discussion). In addition, men are giving up sex for things like tv, work, or even because they are nosey about what everyone else is doing. I mean come on. Ladies, if your man wanted to have sex, would you really be like, ‘actually, I want to see if such and such is doing it first?’ I doubt it. So, these excuses, which could be totally valid just seem like bullshit because no one is expecting men to give up sex, not even for something important. And I am wondering what is behind this lost libido.

To add fuel to the fire, what is commonly known as the ‘body wars’ is occurring all over the world. Men (I say men because most heads of state and politicians and policy makers are men) are sitting together deciding what will and should happen with women’s bodies. They are deciding whether we can have abortions, whether family planning should be an option for us, whether we should be allowed to enjoy sex within marriage and whether we have the right to life if we engage in sexual activity prior to marriage. And I think their lost libido is the cause of recent moves towards conservative approaches to sex and sexuality. The truth is that men can no longer handle the heat and have reverted to religion and morality to justify their inability to handle women’s sex drives.

Honest, back during the sexual revolution, men were pro women’s sexual freedom. Do you know why? Because they thought that they would benefit from it. They thought to themselves that it would be great to have lots of loose women submitting to their every desire because they were no longer held back by men’s definitions of morality, decency, and religious devotion. But to their surprise, once women were emancipated from sexual inhibitions, they started demanding more. Now women are asking for sex on their terms, when, where and how they want it. And it has become too much for men to handle. They have become emasculated because rather than having unlimited access and will to do whatever they feel with any women, they have become exposed. Their inability to maintain healthy sexual functioning after a certain age, the decline in their libido, and their sub-par performance have all been open to questioning. And the more women question, the more they realize that they don’t have to put up with that crap. In addition, women have started to take the lead and demand certain actions.

So, now that our freedom of sexuality no longer benefits men and actually puts them under increased pressure to perform, they have decided that the old moral order is best. And now they want to put laws in place to limit our promiscuity. Now they feel that previous notions of acceptable sexuality are more in their interests than unlimited access to a bunch of demanding women. Shame on us for letting them continue to set the terms of our sexuality!

Working with crazy bigots

If any of you know any of my other stories about my coworkers, this little anicdote will not surprise you.

Earlier today, basically out of nowhere, (because that's how some people are) one of my coworkers decides to tell me and Diane that she and her daughter were in the car earlier on their way somewhere. First of all, who cares? but let me continue. So they saw a PFLAG sticker on someone's car. She says they then decided to make up their own acronym for PFLAG. (By the way she didnt even know what it stood for. She was like "its purple flag, right? for purple in the rainbow for gays because there are two rainbows and the one with purple in it means gay... and I was like WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, YOU MORON?! there is only one rainbow and purple is not in it anywhere. ROY G. (mutherf*in) BIV! its violet and yea purple and violet are the SAME color - though she proceeded to try to tell me that in these "two rainbows" that they were different. By this point I was like whatever get on with your story.) So then she tells me what kind of acronym she tried to come up with.... i dont want to repeat the whole thing because its mean and then also i cant remember it all but it included A**hole raper and fudge packer....
Needless to say I had to take a few breaths before I went balistic and I just had to calm down and say, "I didn't find that in the least funny. Why is that funny to you?" and then she is like no its not funny but what better did we have to do while sitting in traffic.. well, gee, i don't know.. how about talk to you daughter about why she is turning into a promiscous ho. I mean the fact that the only thing that came to your mind is a completely bigotted and really mean slander against BLGT people is freaking pathetic. At this point, I had to walk away.

I want to tell God can you give your people a freakin clue. I mean no matter what you believe, I don't think there is every any excuse for that kind of behavior. And to foster and nurture that this kind of thinking is alright in your children is just ludicrous. Oh it was just a joke is not an excuse in any kind of way. Its like going down the street and seeing a guy who looks foreign and going "What up Arab or spick or homey?" or any really stupid offensive thing you could think of. Get the point? Its in all of our actions. God doesn't want our judgement... he wants our love and to show love to everyone of all types...seriously people, GET the point.

A feminist?

My best friend posted this awhile back and I just got around to reading the whole thing. I will admit its a little lenghty - not Henry James or anything, but to get the point it takes a careful perusal. However, its a great article and more hopeful than the ones I have been reading but then again she ends up wth someone at the end doesn't she - no wonder she's so optimistic.....


May 21, 2006
Modern LoveChanging My Feminist Mind, One Man at a Time
By J. COURTNEY SULLIVAN

For the past decade, I have struggled with two competing images of theopposite sex: oppressor, and dream date.As a girl, I was in love with the idea of love — love poems, letters,stories, songs, even Courtney Love, for what seemed to me her well-worn heartache. Boys themselves, with their fake guns and dirty knees, didn'tinterest me much. But as they were my ticket to romance, I adored them more or less as a practical matter.

In high school, during marathon phone conversations, cheap pizza dinnersand long suburban car rides, I began to fall for boys because of whothey actually were, or at least who I thought they might become. I still loved Love, but now the love began to stretch to real people.

And this is where things got complicated, because around the same time,with my working mother as a role model and an influential teacher as myguide, I started to identify as a feminist. I read, re-read, andunderlined "Backlash," "The Beauty Myth" and "The Feminine Mystique." I grew enraged by what I learned. Enraged, and utterly confused. Who was keeping women down? Men. But who were just so cute that I couldn't sleep at night for thinking and writing and obsessing about them? You guessed it, the self-same.

Then I went off to an all-women's college, Smith, where I didn't see awhole lot of men. I joined the campus women's group and studied up on gender issues. My rage toward men in general grew ever stronger, as did my desire to meet that one specific man who could make my dreams come true.

I had fantasies of moving into a city apartment after graduation with some blurry-faced guy, my partner. We'd cook dinner together, read thepaper in bed. Later, we would shield our children from sex-stereotypedtoys and take turns driving to rid them of the notion that Dad is alwaysthe captain. There would be true equality in our home, and there wouldalso be candlelight and Ella Fitzgerald records and adorable baby shoes in the hall closet.

BUT when I graduated and moved to Manhattan three years ago, none of themen I met were up for my proposed life of egalitarian bliss. In fact,most of the young people around me—male and female—seemed to think offeminism as a quaint and unnecessary practice from days of old, notunlike churning butter. I remembered then what one wise women's studiesprofessor at Smith had said about feminism: "None of this means anythingunless we can get men on board. That's not achieved by marches ormovements, but by one individual changing another individual for thebetter."

I wanted to get men on board — or one man, at the very least — but Iseemed unable to find an audience for a simple discussion beginning with the words "I am a feminist and here's why."

Friends wondered why I couldn't leave my politics at the door and justgo on a date for goodness sake. My uncles joked that perhaps I'd be happy if I could find a nice Irish girl to settle down with.

All of my relationships, or lack thereof, began to take the same shape.I would meet a man, and our first date would consist of that lovelyunraveling of mundane details. Then would come the second date. With ourvital stats out of the way, we'd begin to discuss other, seeminglybenign, topics. But somehow, every road led to sexism. A comparison of our favorite movies turned into me complaining about Quentin Tarantino's senseless misogyny. Perusal of the dessert menu somehow ignited ascreaming match about women's socially imposed body-image issues.

Often there was no warning. One minute we would be talking baseball, andthe next we'd be embroiled in a standoff about pornography, which wouldend with me refusing to return his calls and express mailing him a copyof Catharine MacKinnon's "Only Words" without a note.

Soon I began to recognize a familiar look on the faces of the men I wentout with, the physical incarnation of Check, please. I knew that I couldbe too harsh, too quick to judge and probably guilty of the very sexismI railed against. But I couldn't back down.

I couldn't because the stakes are too high, and the large-scale issuesof sexual inequality remain: Women still don't make equal money forequal work; we are still the victims of rape and domestic violence; we are, for the most part, still solely responsible for child-rearing andcooking and cleaning, no matter what our career choices.

But the smaller, more personal issues are perhaps even more divisive,more threatening, at least when it comes to romantic relationships.In a country where you can't show a penis on television, the popular rapstar Snoop Dogg can sing a song on the radio called "Can U Control YoHoe," in which he says a man has to do what it takes to put his woman"in her place" even if it means "slapping her in the face."

Outside my office building in Times Square stands a billboard for the new HBO series "Big Love" — three women of varying ages stare blank-eyedand weary at one exhausted, oversexed man. Beneath them are the words"Polygamy Loves Company."

A block away, there's a long row of sex shops and strip clubs. When Irun out to grab a sandwich at lunchtime, men are waltzing into theseplaces without so much as a hint of embarrassment.

Who are they? I often wonder. What are their lives like?

It seems impossible that they all live in caves or in their mothers'basements. Most must have jobs, homes, wives, girlfriends. They are notconsidered abnormal, any more than the guy who purchases a Snoop CD, ortunes in to see how Bill Paxton deals with those three demanding wives, poor lamb. If this is the culture in which we live and love, how must men, in their heart of hearts, view women?

When I think of men this way, as I often do, I want to go back to Smithand stay there among the shaved-headed sisterhood until I die.

On the other hand, no matter how enraged I become, I still adore men andthe possibility for romance they bring. I love the smell of a man's skin. I enjoy the breathless feeling of waiting to see if he'll callback. I like dressing up for dates and dissecting a dinner conversationwith a new guy to determine if he might be The One. I admire the linear and decisive way a certain kind of man thinks, to my curlicue boundless overthinking. And nothing beats the feeling of a man's arms wrapped around me. Nothing.

I'll never fully reconcile those ideas, I know. But sometimes love surprises us with its timing and its lessons. Ten months ago, I finally met someone who, so far, has stuck. And to my Catholic family's great relief, that someone's name is not Irene.

His name is Colin, and I liked him immediately. And so I vowed, this time, not to sabotage things by mentioning sexism right away. But on our very first date, he asked about my thoughts on the feminist movement(apparently, he had been prepped by our mutual friends). When he pressed the issue, I finally blurted out: "I can't talk about feminism until youknow me better, O.K.?"

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I'll scare you."

He laughed. "I'm not afraid."

And he wasn't. He gets it, yet he's bold enough to stand up to me whenhe thinks I've gone too far. Confronted by my beliefs, Colin offers neither the typical blow-off of other men nor the mea culpa that Ithought I was looking for. Instead, he listens and discusses sexism withme at length, agreeing most of the time, but not always. And when he disagrees, he says so, challenging me to think about my long-heldbeliefs in new ways, and occasionally even changing my mind.

In Colin's view, a man who goes to a strip club for his bachelor partyis not necessarily a misogynist. And my argument that the women's movement has hardly made a dent ignores decades of true progress, according to him. But he has come over to my side in debates aboutpornography, prostitution, movie violence and domestic roles.

Not that there aren't moments when it seems like we're still looking at each other across a great gender divide. One discussion about sexual violence in horror films ended with his screaming, "Do you ever justlighten up?"

AND last night he mentioned that a friend of his, a screenwriter, wasoptioning a book that Colin described as "a man's guide to stringingchicks along without ever having to marry them."

"And yet you think he's a good guy?"

"He's a very good guy," Colin said.

"I don't know how someone can be good, but not do good," I shot back. I said this, but at the same time I thought about the friend in question, a man more devoted to his wife than anyone I've ever met.

Colin and I went a few more rounds before he finally said, "I admire your passion," and I conceded that his friend was indeed a pretty goodguy. Then we took a walk, got a couple of beers and laughed about it all.

Both love and life are rich in contradiction, and who am I to fight it?After all, I was the teenage girl with a framed photo of Gloria Steinem hanging on her bedroom wall, right beside a larger photo of a young Frank Sinatra.

And now I have fallen for a man who understands and respects my feminist beliefs, and who also takes me to dinner, holds the door, calls me Babydoll in a slow Southern drawl.

Embracing those contradictions has led me to discover a world between the harsh reality of sexism and the airy wishes of my love-drenched fantasies.

It's true what my Smith professor said about progress depending upon one individual changing another for the better. What she didn't say was that, inevitably, the change goes both ways.

J. Courtney Sullivan lives in New York. Her book, "Dating Up: Dump theSchlump and Find a Quality Man," will be published by Warner Books inFebruary 2007.

Coworkers or Friends?

I just discovered a new toy on Google (which could quite possibly be my favorite search engine ever.) It the Google photo manager called Picasa and it's free! This excites me. Further more, you can do cool things with it like blog on a certain photo.. which further excites me. Anyhow its a fun and cool new little gadget. So enjoy!

Look at me with my two coworkers, Becky and Diane. Aren't we cute?! I love this picture. If you have been checking out my Myspace or my facebook page, you have probably seen this picture already. If not, here for your viewing pleasure. I am not sure where the future may lead but I am pretty sure that I am on the verge of not calling them just coworkers but friends as well. Its a huge leap for them. However, these are two of the ladies I spend my day with and share my life with. Diane, on the right, is a fabulous wife and mother of one, Justin (who I have affectionately nickenamed J-10). She makes me laugh. A LOT. Becky is a fabulous expectant mother and fiancee. She makes me giggle. She is soooo silly. But she is also quite feisty! And that's what I like about her.

Don't we look great it our pastel shirts that were totally unplanned but we all came in that way? Ahhh some things are just too good to keep to myself. 

You've Got to be Kidding Me....

You've got to be kidding me - our lights went out here at work. You would think that if the lights go out that it would be a sign that it is time to leave for the day. But not here at ACLJ. Lights going out does not constitute reason enough to leave. You can use your little lamps and such and strain your already strained eyes to continue typing into your (in my case only) minute computer screen. Damn them!!! Oh and get this! once our computers follow suit and conk out, you would think that it is then time to get the hell out of dodge but OH NO! not at the ACLJ... you can try to find something to do til the big wig gets off her damn power trip and says oh ok you can go home not that its four o'clock... Mind you my good people the lights went off before 2:30pm. and the computer followed probably an hour later.

so i say again
YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!!!!

A Real Update ... Finally

What have I been up to?

Tired of my sinister rants?

Well here is a true update on life and love my dears. I haven't truthfully been up to much. My grandmother just went into surgery on June 1st for her colon cancer. Thank to all of you, esp. Ms. Shillingford, who have been there for a pick me up and encouraging words. They have been truly appreciated. She is doing fine and called me on the phone this morning which is good, her being able to use the phone. She should be coming home from the hospital sometime later this week. For now, I have been housesitting her house with my sister, not that it really needs to be watched but that's ok - I get to watch cable! Not that there is ever anything on anyway.

Speaking of cable, movies - old and new - that I have seen recently. "Saved" starring Mccauley Caulkin and Mandy Moore is really very funny and is a must see. "The Butterfly Effect" starring Ashton Kutcher was strange but I liked it. "The Perfect Man" starring Hillary Duff and Heather Locklear was definitely cute and reminded me why I liked Hilary Duff AND her real weight. "X-Men 3" did not live up to its expectation but still an enjoyable summer blockbuster. "The DaVinci Code" (avec Mathieu and Greg) was perhaps a bit too cerebral for the big screen, where it succeeded as a book it failed as a film. "V for Vendetta" was, um, I am not sure I have words for yet. Ask me again in a week. I think I liked it.
What am I looking forward to? Superman a little more so and definitely, without a doubt Pirates of the Carribbean 2: Dead Man's Chest is my top movie of the summer - it has a lot ot live up to - I hope it doesn't dissapoint.

I joined a bowling team. Now not only do I work at a bowling alley but I am bowling in a league on Sunday nights for the summer. I am kind of excited. I ordered bowling shoes a couple of weeks ago. It should be tons of fun. I am bowling with three old guys. They needed a girl and I needed a team that didnt mind that I am going to really suck. However, according to them, its ok if I suck. My handicap helps the team. Hopefully being on the team will help me to actually improve. I am in a money league so there is potential for me to get some cash out of this! I'll let you know how it goes - my first bowl: this weekend.

Love life - same. Don't really feel like going into it. You want the details, email or call me.

My upcoming summer events - hanging out with an African or two, Fourth of July Beach Party of Love and Doom, the Bahamas on a cruise, boring August apparently (perhaps C-ville to see Marc Johnson), and a faboulous Labor Day excursion to New York City with a beautiful and talented Miss Lauren Walinsky!!!!! Can you tell I am little excited about that last one?!

I was about to say that was it but work is still abysmal. I mean nobody has blown up Pat yet and thats a crime. My work load keeps growing but my pay does not. Whoever heard of raises once a year? I mean I think I merit a raise for all the new stuff I have learned how to do. Whoever heard of a job where your job description do whatever your boss wants you to do? Such a crock! On a happier note, I still enjoy the women I work with whether it be for laughs with them or at them. I am becoming better friends with my young coworkers and one of them is having a baby. (Please see other posts where I rant about everyone and their mother being pregnant and popping out babies and getting married and all that crap).

Really cool thing to happen this week: Got back in touch with an old friend - Elizabeth McAdams, now Doyal, for those of you who know her. She is living in Fairfax with her two children and hubbie and apparently they are all doing quite well.

Song of the moment: actually a tie between two new fresh and funky little summer tunes by cute girls - Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado and The One You Need by Megan Rochelle.

I think that is all... if I forgot to tell you all about something - let me know and I will revise and repost.. for now, I remain,
Currently yours,
Shemeka