Sexual Honesty Versus Sexual Force

I can now officially add "Getting somebody fired" to the rather abrupt list of odd accomplishments in my life.

Okay, so it sounds callous, but I swear this wasn't my fault.

Long story made incredibly brief, at the hotel, I had the fun experience of a guest telling me, rather bluntly, that he would like to jump over the counter and tear my shirt off, as well as make sure that my mouth was full. Frankly, the comment pissed me off, because the stupid kid (yes, kid--he's younger than me, so I get to play that card) had been sexually aggressive all week.

And before any of you out there who want to indict my clothing snort about the size of my breasts or the length of my neckline, this was while I was wearing a standard, salmon-colored, blue-checked, button-up polo roughly the size of a potato sack. Seriously, these shirts are hideous, baggy and designed to completely erradicate any trace of gender. Note: this does not mean if I had been wearing some navel-drifting tank top, it would have been acceptable. I'm just refuting anyone who wants to play Defense Attorney before they even have a chance to step up.

Furthermore, being new to the job, I didn't want to rock the boat. So I planned to let the incident go, but one of the dude's own co-workers complained to management about his behavior and conduct, so I had little choice but to write up a letter about the incident and submit it to both his supervisor and mine.

Also, keep in mind that when I spoke to his supervisor, I expressed that I didn't believe he should be fired. Not because sexual harrassment isn't serious, but given that I had a rather flirtatious interaction with many of the members of his crew, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. More to the point, I stressed that I believed his lack of experience and age might be compounding his judgment. Seriously--he reminded me of Little Bit right before I finally gave in and agreed to have Little Bit fixed.

However, one of the guys sent me a text and told me Front Desk Aggressor had been sent back to Oklahoma, and nobody in their crew is allowed to talk to the front desk anymore, which sucks. Most of the members of the crew have been fabulous, even bringing me dinner a few times (during the night shift, you can't leave to get food, so you don't really get much of a break) and hanging out at my dad's bar. And we've had a fun, light-hearted volley of words that have been fairly racy, but nothing as brazen what Front Desk Aggressor suggested.

Finding out about the reprimand and consequential actions made me really not want to show up for work today. I was already pissed off at Front Desk Aggressor for his remarks anyway, and now the big hoopla over the whole thing just made me really embarrassed. I was hoping to sweep the event under the rug, because I haven't yet hit 60 days and wouldn't you know it, I actually really like my job and will likely use it to secure a transfer of sorts if there isn't anything the Clan can do for me on the employment side of things.

Still, I have to commend Chuck and Josh, the Regional and General Manager respectively, for their handling of the situation. They were 100 percent supportive of me and Chuck, who knew from my initial interview that I had a tendency to push the envelope, assured me that such a remark was still completely inappropriate and unprovoked. They both also assured me that in the future I could call them and they would take care of these problems so that I wouldn't seem like the bad guy. I spent most of the day in the back folding laundry, because frankly I just did not want to deal with any of Front Desk Aggressor's friends potentially retaliating.

Of course, I know that it isn't really my fault that Front Desk Aggressor got fired. I wasn't going to breathe a word of it because the whole experience with MOCSA and frankly, life in general, has left me jaded and wary that the right people will care when they're supposed to. But when it was his own crew member that spoke up, I didn't have much choice, and the reality is, the kid still has nobody to blame but himself for being so inappropriate to begin with.

Still, I think part of what really got to me wasn't just the implication of Front Desk Aggressor's words, but also the way that he said it. Front Desk Aggressor isn't likely a rapist per se, but he is very...forceful, and that's how it felt when he said that. I was taken aback by just how much punch his words seemed to carry, and how threatening they, themselves, felt.

It's kind of like an earlier discussion had on a friend's journal last month, which largely centered around whether it's acceptable to tell someone "I want to fuck you." I said then, and I believe now, that words mean things, and the way that words are communicated means something, too. I still break into a sweat whenever anyone says, "I'm going to fuck you." It's a statement that, regardless of tone, reeks of violence. Perhaps it is the word "Fuck" itself, or just the declaration of, "I'm going to." I don't know, but it feels like those five words, in and of themselves, pretty much sum up my rape five years ago. It wasn't simply Jason declaring that he wanted to fuck me; it was Jason deciding he wanted to fuck me and doing it against my protests. Front Desk Aggressor didn't ask to tear my shirt off; he stated that he would.

But in the interest of being fair, I have to admit that my own sexual proclivities would allow, in certain situations, for such a power move to be an acceptable turn-on, such as foreplay with Barrick. However, Barrick has never been assumptive about our bedroom life, likely due to the fact he knows my sexual past and hang-ups just about better than anybody. Yet there have been times where he has expressed his desire to have sex with me. Again, stating "want" and "will" seems very different, because there's a difference between being sexually blunt and sexually forceful.

During the discussion on my friend's blog, I went on to state:

I also agree that there's a difference between being sexually blunt and sexually forceful. However, I also believe that words can carry violence--just ask a person who has already survived a sexual violation how they feel when someone tells them, "I want to rape you," or any kind of remark that is suggestive of violence.

It seems like a real debate is going on over whether people have the right to express their desire to have sex with another person. And it's an issue I'm torn on, because on the one hand, part of what propagates sexual violence is the taboo nature--as in, "I'm not going to teach you anything, so I'll just let you fend for yourself." When we take that attitude with children, they just take things because they have no other way to learn. Only instead of taking candy, we're talking about children who grow into adults taking lives, and there's certainly a myriad of other issues that come into play (body entitlement, pervasive patriarchy, etc.) but I do think the veiled curtain falling over all things related to sex is a serious part of the problem.

Yet on the other hand, it pisses me off when I'm minding my own business and people think it's acceptable to express their sexual attraction to me. Just the other day, I was pumping gas in my car, and like I always do, I had my hair styled, my face made-up and a cute outfit on. And some fine upstanding citizen of Kansas City thought it the perfect opportunity to shout from his car how much he'd like me to handle his hose.

I find that kind of thing not only a major turn-off, but completely inappropriate. When I'm just pumping gas in my car, not actively engaging in another person, I shouldn't have to put up with that kind of nonsense. In actuality, I don't think I should have to put up with it any way, regardless of what I'm doing, which is why I don't think that sexual suggestivity is acceptable. Sure, I may be dancing on a pole, you may be giving me money, but that doesn't give you license to tell me that you want to fuck me if I'm not okay with hearing that you want to fuck me.

I also think that, regardless of sex or gender identity, it's up to the person who has the sexual desire (e.g. "I want to fuck you") to verify that the person of their desire is okay with hearing said desire. It sounds strange and unusual, but the issue of accessing consent (even in writing) has been the subject of serious legal debate. But I think it would go a long way towards addressing the confusion and miscommunication issues, and those who think the idea is ridiculous are part of the problem. If the desire to fuck someone is so damn important you have to express it to them, you can trouble yourself with a quick conversation to even determine whether it's appropriate to express it to them.

Hell, this would even go a long way to confronting the culture that thinks it's okay for us to touch everything, whether it belongs to us or not. I ask people permission to touch their dogs (that's a separate rant for another day), to give them hugs until I know them well enough that verbal permission isn't necessary. Seeking permission helps to deconstruct the body entitlement notions.

And it sucks, because this uncomfortable ground is murky, unfamilair and feels completely exposed, largely due to the reality that there isn't much middle-ground here.

I ended up talking with Barrick about the discourse of sexual boundaries and limitations for nearly half an hour, where I posited, "Is it reasonable to expect persons to solicit consent before expressing their desire?"

Barrick said the point seemed semantical, given that when you ask someone, "Is it okay with you if I tell you I find you attractive?" is still, in fact, communicating the belief that you're attractive.

I understood his point (and of course recognize that there is a difference between stating an attraction to someone such as 'You look pretty today', but the words are chosen specifically to employ the power that they carry) and I countered with my belief that taking the forceful approach leaves the person whom is being desired painted into a corner.

Coming right out and saying, "I want to fuck you" is a threatening statement that seems infinitely violent, which gets worse when it turns into "I'm going to fuck you" and it takes away power from the person being desired. They haven't had the chance to express their respective boundaries. And while some people can still navigate smoothly from that uncomfortable place, most people can't.

On the other hand, asking someone, "Is it okay..." and then filling it in with the respective information gives the desired the control. And that's the way it should be. If you desire a new car, don't you go out and do the research to determine what is and what is not a reasonable price to pay? What sort of additions can you expect to add on to the car? What are the car's limitations? Things like that.

Obviously, cars and people are different. But I do likewise believe if we're willing to take the time to learn about a car (for example, never rear-end a Pinto) why not take the time to actually learn about people? We respect the limitations of our automobiles; we must likewise do the same with our fellow humans.

Where's Carrie Bradshaw?

You know, it occurs to me that a woman might truly have a beauty addiction if she finds herself thinking, "If I only go to therapy twice this month, I can afford to get my hair re-highlighted."

Wedding Zillas

Today was Dionne's bridal shower, something that was both a success and a disaster at the same time.

To begin with, nobody showed up, except for Jordan. So it was a small, intimate affair. Amy and I had planned a scrapbooking shower for her, but it went away from that and instead we just munched on Chinese food and then went shopping at Target. And after going shopping for several hours, Amy and I have agreed we will never go shopping with or likely hang out with Jordan again.

I know it probably speaks poorly of me to rant about someone here, but I am shocked and appalled at the way D was treated and as she is one of my friends, I feel the need to comment on it.

Jordan has a very domineering personality, whereas Dionne has always been very indecisive and almost submissive around such women because of her background with her mom. I've been described as having a very strong, independent personality, but I'm not controlling, which is why Dionne has never interacted that way with me. Anyway, while we were shopping, Jordan picked out probaby 40 different things for Dionne, from swimming suits to housing accessories and it was incredible to watch how she honestly ordered Dionne to get this, get that, try that on or put this back. Amy and I were amazed as she micro-managed Dionne's purchases and Dionne just took it.

At dinner, it came out that Jordan had decided to throw Dionne a house-warming party (Dionne is moving to Lawrence at the end of next week) and had already come up with the guest list, the invitations, the food selections. Amy and I exchanged glances and I knew we were feeling the same thing: annoyed and hurt, because we're Dionne's best friends, and Jordan hadn't even thought to include us. I even looked at Amy and raised my eyebrows in our code of, Is this chick for real? It only got worse as Jordan told us our itinerary and dress code for the various wedding-related events coming up, including what kind of make-up we'd be expected to wear ("Dionne needs to be the one standing out, so be prepared to buy brown and pink eye shadow") and suggesting that we buy another pair of shoes, on top of the pair we already purchased for the ceremony.

In it's own way, it was absolutely insane. I've heard of bride-zillas, mom-zillas and even mom-in-law-zillas (hey, I had one of those) but a not-actually-a-member-of-the-wedding-zilla?

I really feel like all the experiences I've had being in Dionne's wedding since she let Jordan take over would make great material for a book, much like one I read shortly before I got married called Diary of a Mad Bride. Since Jordan's role is Personal Attendant, maybe I'll entitle this memoir Diary of a Mad Personal Attendant Victim.

The bright side is that Dionne clearly enjoyed herself, and Amy and I were able to behave around Jordan. Not saying anything about how she was treating one of my best friends like mud goes against everything that seems innate to my being, but I had to think of Dionne's welfare and stress level, and somehow I doubt declaring open war on Jordan in the lingerie aisle of Target would have accomplished much from a productive standpoint, and I know Amy feels the same way.

And I got to take home all the Chinese food, because once we were done shopping, the other girls didn't want to dig through the cartons to figure out what belongs to who, so I now have six little boxes of Chinese take-out in my fridge. There's lunch for a week!

I also managed to find a body pillow (I've really wanted one for a while now, so that I can take half the pillows off my bed and stash them in the closet for guests) and some earrings to a necklace that I didn't have any for. And heck, we got ice cream, so really, how much complaining can I do?

I will say this much for Jordan. There is no doubt she has relieved a lot of the stress Dionne is under by taking a few of the more troublesome tasks off her hands. I wish that I had thought to trust someone (heck, anyone--I had eight bridesmaids!) enough to ask for their help in those kinds of issues, like mailing out invitations, planning a timeline and arranging hotel accomodations for guests. I wonder how much less frazzled I would have been in the actual pre-wedding process.

In any case, Kourtney is almost here, and we're going to go buy some pants for church and talk about life.

Baby Showers, Bridal Showers and Other Bullshit

Leave it to members of my family to be passive-aggressive in telling me that whatever I might have on my plate isn't as important was what they want.

Here's the situation. My older brother and his wife live in Dallas, about seven hours away from the rest of the "core" family. My sister-in-law, Lindsay, is pregnant. It is her first child, and therefore, the first grandchild for my parents. It's a big deal and everybody is excited about it (hopefully). Including me--I had been trying to nonchalantly find out for a few weeks what the colors were for the nursery so I could quilt the baby a blanket. It's a little known secret about me: I love to sew, and I'm especially good at quilts. I'm also incredibly broke, so I can't afford to get super-nice, expensive baby items that are no doubt dotting the registry (and knowing how my brother and his wife always treat my gifts, whatever I try to buy them will just get returned or ignored anyway). But if I do a good enough job on this blanket, maybe it will be something the kid always keeps with him. My grandmother knitted both my twin and I blankets when we were very young, and I actually still have that blanket.

While on the phone with DJ earlier this evening discussing possible gifts for Dad (his birthday is Friday) he mentioned off-handedly that Mom's side is planning on throwing Lindsay a shower in late June. I said that sounds great and asked what date everyone has in mind. DJ said he thought June 23. And I first said "Great!" before remembering that Dionne is having two showers back to back that weekend. So I told him, "Oh, I can't make it, I already have another shower I'm committed to that weekend for Dionne's wedding." And then this silence filled the air, like he was trying to understand how I could possibly "blow off" a family event like Lindsay's baby shower for a non-family event like Dionne's wedding shower.

I don't know if he meant to come across that way, but I went on to explain that I'm a bridesmaid and because it's only Amy and I, we're planning it and we need to be there, and I don't want to over commit myself on that day because not only will I have D's shower, I'll also be right in the middle of summer school (with a math class, the worst possible class I could take since my learning disability and accomodations were never formally recognized by the school) and no doubt working more than 40 hours a week just to ensure I have enough money to return to school in the fall without doing debate. And he just stayed really silent, before finally ending, "Well, if you can't make it, I guess you can't make it." Like I would really make it to Lindsay's shower if it was important enough to me to do so, regardless of whatever else I have on my plate.

So then I called Mom to try and get more specific details about the shower that has apparently been planned for a while but that I've heard nothing about. Mom confirmed the date, and simply because I'm a masochist who really wants to try to please my family, I asked what time to see if I can't actually do both in the same day even though they'll be in completely opposite parts of town. But then Mom told me the exact time we had already talked about for Dionne's shower, and I had to tell her to that I can't make it, there's just no way because I have yet to invent a flux capacitor, to which she snapped, "Yeah, that's getting to be pretty typical with you, isn't it? You can never take the time out of your busy schedule to grace us all with your presence."

I wish I could say I was shocked, but I'm not. Her response was pretty similar when I called to announce my engagement to B. Whenever I call, regardless of the reason, it turns into a guilt-trip of how I don't go and see her enough, how I'm always blowing off the family and I don't make enough of an effort for anybody besides myself. She doesn't understand that this is precisely why I don't want to see her or most of her family--emotional manipulation is a poor quality for anyone to have, and many of them have it in spades. When I don't go, all anybody can apparently talk about is how I think I'm too good to show up to family functions (nevermind that I either don't get enough notice to request off from work to attend or have obligations I can't miss, such as a debate tournament) and when I do go, all anybody can talk about (to me) is how I never come to any of these bullshit functions! Although "talk" isn't the appropriate word--it's more like "make jokes that aren't funny at Ashley-Michelle's expense about how she thinks she's too good for all of us because she's a woman trying to be college-educated and better get our digs in now because we don't know when we're going to see her again."

I just can't fucking win in this goddamn family.

So, I'm sitting here pissed off because I'm going to miss Lindsay's baby shower (I'm not going to back out on D) and as a result I'm going to have to deal with bullshit from my mother and most likely DJ too. And really, why the hell is my presence so fucking important? There were events in my life that were important that they didn't bother showing up to because they had their reasons, and I respected that. I didn't guilt-trip them or make them feel like terrible because they couldn't make it. I was an adult and said no hard feelings. No event is so important that missing it means somebody deserves to be treated like shit, especially if they have a legitimate reason for missing, such as a pre-existing obligation that directly conflicts.

Whatever temptation I might have had to pull out of D's shower has been completely killed. Why would I want to give up something I'm really looking forward to and already obligated to for people that apparently don't respect that I have a life outside of them and their wants? I'm so tired of bending over backwords for my mother and my siblings and getting nothing in return, even a little break.

This is why there is a real push in modern psychotherapy to develop your own support system outside of the family--because the latest wealth of research is beginning to understand just how toxic the nuclear family really is!