Being a Nerd, and Other Things I Think About

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Soo….

What’s some little bullshit stuff that I need for a new apartment but will probably forget to buy until I’m like “oh shit I never had that cause it was Erin’s/Lisa’s/Dorothy’s/Jeremy’s”?

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I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart.
Anne Frank, The Diary of a Young Girl (via pavorst)

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I need Feminism...

internal-acceptance-movement:

whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because the term ‘beautiful’ is now a compliment on the same level as ‘smart’ or independent. I don’t want people to cheer me up by telling me that I look good, I want to be complimented on worthwhile skills that I truly excel at and posses. 

I need feminism because society has made it that women as a general population look down upon their looks and therefore need to be complimented with only ‘you’re beautiful’s or ‘you look perfect’s. 

I need feminism because it is assumed that all women look down upon themselves and anyone who doesn’t is therefore considered arrogant or even slutty when she is confident in herself and her abilities. 

This.

People need to remind me of this. Every day. Because I am one of those smart girls constantly down on herself about looks and I shouldn’t feel that way

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So, I’m still undecided on my feelings about the whole NATO thing and the protests and stuff. But I’ve been following the Chicago Tribune’s liveblog of it most of the day, and I can say that I am very very glad I didn’t have to go in to work tonight. It looks like there have been a few scuffles down that way, close to the dorm I used to live in (which means 4 blocks from work). I have to go in tomorrow morning though, and I’m really hoping things cool off so I can get there and back home without incident. I just want people (protesters AND police) to be safe and respectful and keep the city as nice as it is. Chicago is probably one of the best/coolest/friendliest cities in the country (in my opinion, of course), and I’d hate for that to change. 

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anticapitalist: Our real first gay president The new issue of Newsweek features a cover photo of President Obama topped by a rainbow-colored halo and captioned “The First Gay President.” The halo and caption strike me as cheap sensationalism. I realize airport travelers look at a magazine for 2.2 seconds before moving on to the next one. I grant that this cover will probably get Newsweek a 4.4 second glance. I also understand that Newsweek is desperate for sales. Nevertheless, I doubt that the Newsweek of old, before it was sold for a dollar, would have pandered as shallowly. The caption is a superficial way to characterize an important development of thought that the president — along with the country — has been making over recent years. It is also entirely wrong. Like the mini-furor a couple of months back about the claim that Richard Nixon was our first gay president, the story simply ignores that the U.S. already had a gay president more than a century ago. There can be no doubt that James Buchanan was gay, before, during and after his four years in the White House. Moreover, the nation knew it, too — he was not far into the closet. Today, I know no historian who has studied the matter and thinks Buchanan was heterosexual. Fifteen years ago, historian John Howard, author of “Men Like That,” a pioneering study of queer culture in Mississippi, shared with me the key documents, including Buchanan’s May 13, 1844, letter to a Mrs. Roosevelt. Describing his deteriorating social life after his great love, William Rufus King, senator from Alabama, had moved to Paris to become our ambassador to France, Buchanan wrote: I am now “solitary and alone,” having no companion in the house with me. I have gone a wooing to several gentlemen, but have not succeeded with any one of them. I feel that it is not good for man to be alone; and should not be astonished to find myself married to some old maid who can nurse me when I am sick, provide good dinners for me when I am well, and not expect from me any very ardent or romantic affection.

anticapitalist:

Our real first gay president

The new issue of Newsweek features a cover photo of President Obama topped by a rainbow-colored halo and captioned “The First Gay President.” The halo and caption strike me as cheap sensationalism. I realize airport travelers look at a magazine for 2.2 seconds before moving on to the next one. I grant that this cover will probably get Newsweek a 4.4 second glance. I also understand that Newsweek is desperate for sales. Nevertheless, I doubt that the Newsweek of old, before it was sold for a dollar, would have pandered as shallowly.

The caption is a superficial way to characterize an important development of thought that the president — along with the country — has been making over recent years. It is also entirely wrong. Like the mini-furor a couple of months back about the claim that Richard Nixon was our first gay president, the story simply ignores that the U.S. already had a gay president more than a century ago.

There can be no doubt that James Buchanan was gay, before, during and after his four years in the White House. Moreover, the nation knew it, too — he was not far into the closet.

Today, I know no historian who has studied the matter and thinks Buchanan was heterosexual. Fifteen years ago, historian John Howard, author of “Men Like That,” a pioneering study of queer culture in Mississippi, shared with me the key documents, including Buchanan’s May 13, 1844, letter to a Mrs. Roosevelt. Describing his deteriorating social life after his great love, William Rufus King, senator from Alabama, had moved to Paris to become our ambassador to France, Buchanan wrote:

I am now “solitary and alone,” having no companion in the house with me. I have gone a wooing to several gentlemen, but have not succeeded with any one of them. I feel that it is not good for man to be alone; and should not be astonished to find myself married to some old maid who can nurse me when I am sick, provide good dinners for me when I am well, and not expect from me any very ardent or romantic affection.

(via neil-gaiman)