American Progress: A History Of Straight White Christian Males Totally Getting Away With Lots of Nasty Shit

Today the DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) was deemed unconstitutional. This doesn't mean the struggle for Gay Rights in America is anywhere near over, but it does mean that our Federal Government has recognized that DOMA was a dick move to begin with. This was one of the final frontiers in the limitation of institutionalized oppression. America is still a pretty racist, misogynistic, homophobic place (evidence: the composition of our government. our entertainment preferences. our tolerance of Bill O'Reilly), but that's because we're a nation of assholes on an individual level. The government is full of these same assholes, but they're doing a better job recognizing that no group of assholes should have more rights than another group of assholes.  We're building a better future for our children, who we assume will be innocent. This is how it works. Progress is everything getting a little better for everyone with each new generation. The goal might be equality but the reality is that even if things get better for everyone, the hierarchy stays more or less in tact. 

Here's the thing that bugs me about progress: The worst offenders of creating institutionalized oppression in the first place never have to take their turn being powerless. White Straight Christian Males have never officially had their rights limited in any way. There is a sniveling contingent of shitheads who contend that Affirmative Action oppresses the SWCM but even if that is true it's hard to feel sorry for them when compared to say, lynching? Or not being allowed to vote? Or being diagnosed with Female Hysteria because you're sick of blowing your abusive husband? I know I'm being kind of a cunt about this but I can't help but think we'd have a more balanced society if the SWCR were subjected to just a LITTLE BIT of institutionalized oppression. Maybe just something small like...not being allowed to drive after 10 PM or having to pee at a separate (but equal) urinal. The SWCM's overinflated sense of self is the cause of 90% of the worlds suffering and that is a FACT that I made up so I think it would do us all good if we could find ways to make them feel small. This wouldn't have to be permanent, or even consistent. National Oppress a Straight White Christian Male Day. March 14th. I Think it's a good idea.

City of Witches

From now on this is no longer a blog of the creative non-fiction, essayistic persuasion; it is now the story of a city where everyone is secretly a witch but no one talks about it because theyre afraid that the rest of society will turn against them but then one plucky young lass has the courage to show the world how kind and wonderful they are but then right when it was starting to be OK it all goes wrong and a bunch of people end up dead. It's Young Adult Fiction and an allegory for AIDS in New York in the 80s.


Just kidding. This is a post about how New Yorkers really don't like to get wet.

New Yorkers are way too quick to whip out the umbrella and it makes it harder to get around than it needs to be. Don't even try to tell me that this has something to do with Hurricane Sandy because I noticed this last summer too. Put on a hat and grow a sack, New York. I am tired of being poked in the eye by your god-damned spindles.

In other news, I dropped my iphone into the subway tracks and then I cried in two different AT&T stores. I don't want to talk about it.

One Year Ago Today

One Year ago today I started work at my first job in New York City. I was living in a hotel in Chelsea for that first week.  I had originally planned on moving to New York in July when my sub-lease was set to begin, but I wanted to start work as soon as possible so I made the necessary arrangements. I went from the hotel in Chelsea to a "Home Away" short term rental in Bed Stuy, to my summer sub-lease, to a disaster in Crown Heights, and then finally to where I am now; My cozy little basement hobbit hole in Woodside. The ceilings are low and I am often lulled to sleep by the faint rumbling of the 7 Train two stories above me. That job I started exactly a year ago today is no more. I made friends who, for unavoidable reasons, I do not and probably will not see much  which is strange for me given that I spent the first 24 years of my life in the same small state and was bound to see everyone I ever knew at least once a year.

 I am happy to report that while living in New York I was only ever made late to work one time as a result of failing to read the subway notifications. My new job, which I really like so far, has its offices right between Times Square and Herald Square. This is...kind of the worst. BUT I basically work at the center of the Universe as far as cultural consciousness is concerned so that's pretty neat. If I am so inclined I can use the bathrooms at Macy's Herald Square and be back before anyone notices I'm gone. That's not really true because my job doesn't have much down time but you get the point. Macy's is a great place to pee.


Before moving to New York I wrote about how I thought living in New York would help "distract me from the insularity of independent consciousness" or something to that effect. Phrasing it that way was a load of self indulgent crap but so far I think its proving to be true in its own way. I never worry that I'm out of touch with the bulk of humanity because the bulk of humanity is represented here. There may be a sickening wealth gap, but everyone is crammed together in such a way here that a disgruntled homeless man can intentionally puke on a Wall Street dude without having to go too far out of his way and I think that's just great.

Blame It On My Glands

As far as my endocrine system is concerned, there is absolutely no difference between forgetting to pay my credit card bill and forgetting to turn the oven off. One is a small error which effects only me. The other is a potentially life threatening error which effects my roommate, her cat, our neighbors, and potentially an entire crew of emergency medics. I get the same sweaty, blotchy, bottomed-out feeling when I make any error of any kind. I actually don't make that many serious errors in my personal life, but you can imagine how this particular defect would effect me at work- and especially at a new job. I'm not intellectually prone to stress- I understand that I don't need to spend too much time worrying about small errors as long as I fix them and learn not to make them in future. Unfortunately that understanding does not stop my adrenaline glands from sending my body into panic mode whether I've made a small mistake that no one will know about but me, or a big mistake that will negatively impact everyone. Luckily the errors decrease over time so my days will eventually start feeling slightly less like 8 hours on a plane in turbulence.

Me, and That Other Asshole, Myself

Although it is impossible, or at least very challenging, to confidently assess the inner workings of another person's consciousness, I think it's safe to say that most adults operate around a basic duality; two dichotomous selves whose interests are in opposition. There is the childish, primal self who prefers to let its whims be the guide of its actions, and the sensible, aware self who has to find some way to trick that other asshole into behaving in a dignified and healthy manner. When one is out of the parental home, one must learn to parent themselves. I can't know for certain that this is how other people operate but I have made the assumption that I am not a dysfunctional sociopath and therefor most people know what I'm talking about. Or maybe this is distinctly a characteristic of people in their 20s in which case the only people who don't understand are people younger than I am. Either way, if you have no idea what I'm talking about then probably stop reading. This isn't going to start making sense for you.

This isn't my attempt to write a psych paper. This is just my description of how my day to day life works. If I'm lucky I wake up in full governance of my own actions. These are days when I wake up at the time I told myself I would the night before, complete the tasks I set out for myself, and eat according to plan. There are other days though- days on which I seem to have no memory of yesterdays good intentions and I simply forget to go running and then rather than eating the carefully selected, already purchased foods that wait patiently in the fridge, I instead buy a corn muffin at the 7-11 and don't even try to pack myself a lunch.  Within 20 minutes of waking up I have already destroyed my budget, my diet, and my attempt to form a healthy exercise habit. My hope is that on my good days I am taking steps towards training myself against these bad behaviors. In fact, my second self is really more of a neurotic Border Collie than a human child; a border collie who does NOT want to go running and who would really prefer to eat nothing but pasta and cheese. 

The reason I bring this up is because I've been in NYC for almost a year now and when I look back at the events I see a pretty even split of rational, adult decisions and reactive, immature nonsense. I've lived in four apartments in four distinct neighborhoods. I've been both evicted AND laid off. Due to my brief foray at a certain health club which will not be named I now know with some certainty that I really don't want to be doing sales unless the base pay in equal to at least twice my rent. Why didn't I know that before? I actually did, but the part of me that has no patience decided is was better to have any job as soon as possible than to wait for one that felt right. My adult self tends to become spineless during panic mode, and I panic easily. 

Now I have some free time. I'm going to my parents for 5 days to watch the animals while they're in florida and attempt to recollect myself. I don't have a license and no one else will be there. There is limited cable television and I've pretty much exhausted Netflix. There is nothing of interest within walking distance. I'm basically treating myself like an overnight camper in my own life for these five days. There will be daily itineraries. Meals will be pre-determined. Job-hunting time will be pre-allocated so i don't get sucked into a craigslist/careerbuilder hole. If everything goes well this should be very productive and I should feel much better by the time I return to NYC. Or I might read young adult literature and drink wine all day. We'll see.

Onward and At An Undetermined Angle

Today I made a small scene at the Panera Bread near Northern BLVD in Long Island city. I don't know if any of you have spent much time in this particular area of Queens but it is seriously depressing. All car dealerships and the stench of dying dreams. This was my last day off before starting a new job and I had just been to a movie. I didn't end up having time to buy snacks because there was a group of teenagers buying tickets in front of me and they couldn't seem to figure out how money works. It was a 1:25 Matinee and I hadn't eaten lunch so by the time I got out I was really hungry. Panera Bread was the first thing I found.

I ordered a panini, gave them my name, and sat at the nearest open table to read Game of Thrones while I waited. They seemed to have a loud speaker so I was confident that I would know when my food was ready. I went over to the counter to check every so often and saw nothing that resembled my order so I decided to just sit down and wait for my name. My name was never called, and after some amount of time I politely inquired if perhaps they had heard my name wrong and possibly given my sandwich to the wrong person. "For Emma? Yeah we put that out a WHILE ago" was the very 'tude heavy response from the assembly line. "Sorry miss", said the counter boy, "we'll make you another". "NO," I said in a shaky voice which exposed my overly emotional response to the situation, "I DON'T WANT IT ANYMORE. I JUST WANT MY MONEY BACK."

I can't explain why this was my response at this moment. I knew that these are low paid employees who have no incentive to do their jobs particularly well. I knew that going all bitchface on everyone was not going to do anything but make me feel like an asshole later on. I stopped for a moment and considered rescinding my request, but instead what I said was "I just didn't realize that there would be NO effort made to get that message out." I waived my arms around like a crazy person while I said it. I cried a little. It was not good. The bewildered counter attendant gave me my $10 back and I left.

So that's what I did today. I might be a little stressed out about being unemployed.

Confidence! MANIC Style.

(NOT amused)

The company (or corporation, to be specific) I work for has decided to move the particular department I work in, along with several others, to Orlando, Florida. This (pause for three seconds and imagine me making a pondering hand gesture) is not ideal; mainly because I, as you may or may not know, am NOT in Orlando, Florida. I am in New York City. Not that they were OFFERING people in New York jobs in Orlando, but if they were I would sooner eat a bowl of Ke$ha's hair than move to Florida. They're keeping us until May and there are the standard consolation offerings so I do have some time to sort things out. It's not the worst way to get a new job if you have to do it...but I started working less than a year ago so I'm just feeling a little harrumphy about it all.

 I don't like job hunting. It causes my stomach to inefficiently allocate its resources and my sweat glands to over-produce. The only thing that causes me more stress than having an interview looming is not having any interviews set up. The only remedy is getting hired, and the only thing worse than not knowing whether or not you've been hired is getting that cookie cutter email or voice message informing you that they have gone another way (I like to imagine they've eliminated the job altogether in favor of a very fancy lizard terrarium) but they will keep you in mind and hope you will apply for future openings. How badly does an interview have to go, by the way, to NOT get this response if you don't get the job? Indecent exposure? Unwelcome physical contact? Deliberate destruction of the very fancy lizard terrarium? (Only one way to find out....)  It's all very inconvenient and generally disruptive to my growth as an individual. A few weeks ago I was just trying to figure out where the line is between legitimate annoyance and racism when you really are the only white person on your very crowded train and are all these short latino men really this oblivious or are they TRYING graze my chest with their knuckles every five seconds and why do so many full grown asian woman have tiny little baby voices? I don't have the luxury of wondering whether my reactions to these things are acceptable any more. Worrying about my future is my new train activity. Or it was until today when I decided that enough is enough. We all need to agree that I am great and stop entertaining the possibility that things are not going to work out. I say we because this is my new strategy; the assumption that everyone on earth is in agreement with my positive affirmations.

There is really nothing to lose by filling all of the empty space in my head with borderline delusional, Tori Spelling style, completely unsubstantiated confidence. It's not that I don't actually think I am capable and intelligent, but when it comes to finding jobs I am well aware that no matter how comfortable I am with myself there are a whole lot of reasons why someone might not want to hire me. In order to make it through the next few months without becoming paralyzed by the possibility of rejection I need to just think I'm the shit, say I'm the shit, and not FUCKING accept it when anyone suggests otherwise. If you're picturing me sitting in an interview smoking a cigar and laughing condescendingly when asked what my "weaknesses" are then GOOD.

Here is a list of assumptions that might be running through my head at any given moment and that I now assume everyone else is thinking (about me) as well:

- I am very good at everything I've ever done

- I am going to be excellent at everything I ever try

- I am just as good at anything as anyone else. I just haven't done it yet...whatever it is.

- I choose to be 12 pounds overweight because it's Victorian and classy. 

- (follow up) I have excellent willpower. I just don't need it because I am already awesome.

- I am the best looking person in this train car

- People are very impressed by the fact that I earned departmental honors in college

- Everyone is always actively excited to see me

- I am the best looking person in this Duane Reade 

- Everyone is interested in my stories about my experiences at a private ski academy

-  I get points right away for being in my 20s

- These bronze metallic jeggings are WORKING on me

-The following song is about me:

So all of these things are now emphatically true until I sort out everything else.  Having a sensible worldview is for cripples and ugly people and I do not have to put up with that shit. I am a winner and winners assume that everyone is on board with their nonsense. So you're all on board. Let the nightmare begin.