the ch!cktionary

26 Feb 2009
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The Harvard Crimson :: Opinion :: Imperialism in the Holy Land

For 58 years, the Communist regime in Beijing has waged a quiet war against the Tibetan people and their unique culture … The UN, NATO, the United States—any organization or nation with significant international sway—need to put pressure on the Chinese government to cease its suppression of the Tibetan people. The world learned the terrible consequences of imperialism long ago, and we must stamp it out entirely wherever it rears its ugly head. Tibet and its people are some of the world’s most beautiful remaining examples of piety, brotherhood, and peacefulness.

Obviously, I’m in full agreement that China’s actions in Tibet are nothing short of atrocious. Nonetheless, this article completely rubbed me the wrong way, for a few reasons:

By overemphasizing the “peaceful” and “unique” aspects of Tibetan culture, the writer completely misses the point that human lives and rights are valuable in themselves, regardless of whether the “culture” attached is one the Western world deems worthy of preservation. The constant references to “piety”, etc. implies that the only reason we should act is because the culture worth saving. What if the Tibetans were a bunch of burger-eating, reality TV addicts? Would the eradication of their rights and lives not be a concern since there’s enough burger-eating, reality TV-watching cultures out there?
Vilifying China while putting Tibet on a pedestal is more discrediting than anything else. “Communist regime” and “the evil genius behind the Chinese plan”? This just reads like propaganda. How is communism relevant here? No one would describe the US as a “democratic regime” while criticizing our actions abroad. McCarthyism is over, so check your scare tactics at the door of 14 Plympton, please. And statements like “when a television tower is dumped on their shrine, most Tibetans simply smile and keep on praying” are just ludicrous and without merit. I’m guessing that most Tibetans are not thinking happy thoughts for the Chinese government. Are we to believe that the Tibetans are completely devoid of human emotions like resentment simply because of their “unique” culture? Generalizing an entire group of people as perpetually forgiving in the face of eradication is demeaning, condescending, and nearly as bad as eradicating them.
It’s completely hypocritical to call for American intervention to STOP THE IMPERIALISTS. We’re suddenly the moral authority, now? You might as well take the last paragraph and replace it accordingly: “We cannot continue to ignore Afghanistan/Vietnam/Cambodia/Iraq, nor can we continue to balk when human rights are in danger. Any organization or nation with significant international sway—need to put pressure on the US government to cease its suppression of the Afghan/Vietnamese/Cambodian/Iraqi people.” Guess what? If this were a Mad Lib exercise, no one would even know the difference.

Clearly, I am all for ending abuses in Tibet, but all this editorial does is distract from the real atrocities while promoting stereotypes (“Oooh … the peaceful Tibetans!”) and a double standard (when China’s doing it, it’s imperialism; when America does it, it’s “liberation”).

18 Feb 2009
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An Open Letter To The Human Rights Campaign

Dear Human Rights Campaign,

I’m sure that y’all have plenty to worry about given the economic climate and a slowing stream of donations, but can’t you take like 90 seconds to write out a spiel for every volunteer to memorize and repeat when asked about the Human Rights Campaign’s stance on transgender rights? I mean, anything remotely convincing will do.

Because based off my interaction with one HRC rep this morning, I’m convinced that either you’ve been doing a shitty job training your volunteers and have left them hopelessly misinformed OR they’re purposely being misleading in hopes of tricking me into supporting your organization.

This is what Patrick and I were told this morning, when I questioned the volunteer on transgender issues:

“I know some people are upset that we supported that bill which wasn’t trans-inclusive, but just so you know for the future, all the legislation we’re introducing this year also protects gender identity and expression.”

This would be rather reassuring, except for the part where “that bill” — better known as ENDA — was also trans-inclusive when it was first introduced. And look where that got us. The language “gender identity and expression” was later removed when it appeared it would not pass if included. As a result, pretty much every other LGBT organization in existence, most notably the National Gay and Lesbian Task force, pulled their support for the bill. They weren’t going to back legislation with their time and money, unless it included protections for all. And yet! The HRC continued to support the bill, despite having previously made a very public commitment to only support all-inclusive legislation. Liars, liars, fairy wands on fire.

And by the way, in case you thought this shit is irrelevant for the straights, keep in mind that “gender expression” applies to all — transgender or not, gay or straight, white or royal ass purple — since even the most unqueer of folks can and do get fired for not conforming to gender-related workplace norms. The revised version of the bill — the one HRC blindly threw their support behind — doesn’t protect chicks like your sister or mother or best friend or ME who may identify straight women or tote around über masculine boyfriends, but who need these protections in the boardroom as much as the queerest of queers. Because all those perfectly straight, perfectly safe people who fuck the right gender but maybe sometimes express their own in non-traditional ways? (Girls who wear overalls! Boys who like eyeliner!) Yeah, they can get fired for that in the majority of American states and have zero legal recourse. That’s right, you can be a victim of transphobia without even identifying as gender-queer. Not such a safe existence, after all, huh? And THIS was what was cut from ENDA.

The HRC has done a lot of great things but there’s a reason why it has a reputation as an elitist, non-inclusive organization. It’s uncritical of powerful politicians, most notably Obama (who I do not count among LGBT supporters, by the way). It’s almost entirely fundraising-minded. And as the ENDA debacle illustrates, it prefers political expediency over principle. Sure, you may argue that “incremental progress” is better than nothing, but if the same argument were applied to civil rights, we’d still be stuck in an era of “separate but equal”. The original ENDA was for all of us, and the revision HRC backed was a cop-out.

Seeing as how this was all a very public blow to the HRC’s image just a few short years ago, it’s just slightly, well, embarrassing when you’re being represented and defended by a volunteer who has no idea what your platform is on something that is extremely controversial and important to your donors. This is only like the most divisive issue of the past decade, after all. Is it so much to ask that your volunteers (in Boston, of all places!) at least feign knowledge on the topic? Because he clearly had no idea what the fuck was my point.

So for the ENDA slight and for this one, I say FUCK YOU, HRC. Based on how totally uninformed your volunteer appeared, I’m not convinced that your priorities are any different today than they were a few years ago.

Sincerely,

Lena Chen

15 Jan 2009
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What Sex Blogging And The Freshman 15 Taught Me

As someone who’s felt like she’s been subject to ridiculous standards of beauty in the past, I feel compelled to chime in with my support for Jessica’s post about The Top 7 Butterbodies. This Spike.com article lists Hollywood actresses with pretty faces but “blubbery”, “pudgy”, or “chunky” figures (direct quotes). Who are these actresses? Women like Drew Barrymore and Liv Tyler. It kind of makes you wonder, if they’re not considered attractive, then who is?

What Crisci Likes responded to Jess saying that the piece isn’t sexist since men are held to the same physical standards. After all, she says, “How many times have you laughed at the witty joke of a very intelligent but unattractive man and thought to yourself ‘God, if I was just attracted to him…I would have jumped his bones yesterday.’”

Well, first of all, not everyone is attracted to conventionally beautiful people (like Jessica, I think attractiveness is a highly subjective matter). Secondly, though Crisci argues that “women pass equally horrendous judgment” on men (thus making this issue not about sexism), there’s a difference between one woman’s personal opinion of a man’s attractiveness and the frequent, public, media-assisted judgments of women. A women’s magazine is unlikely to publish rankings of supposedly fat male actors and consider that funny or entertaining, simply because guys aren’t held to the same standards that women are. Sure, there may be expectations that male celebrities be fit and muscular, but they won’t face nearly as much ridicule if they fail to conform to that expectation.

Having publicly written about sex for over two years, I can vouch for the fact that women’s looks matter far more than they should. Sadly, the biggest critics of my blog are not people who disagree with me ideologically, but are people — men and women alike — who don’t think I look good enough to be writing what I’m writing. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been called fat or chubby or not hot enough to say anything about sex. How my looks are relevant to my writing is beyond me, but I can think of countless male relationship and sex writers out there whose appearances are never questioned or at the least, are secondary not primary considerations. This isn’t to say that men don’t face sexism as well (for example, they are expected to be breadwinners, which is obviously an unfair double standard). However, women bear the brunt of the burden to be beautiful.

The author of The Top 7 Butterbodies seems to believe that it’s reasonable to expect celebrities to maintain perfect bodies since they base their careers on their looks. I disagree with this because one’s ability to act or sing (like my ability to comment on sex) is not contingent on appearance. More importantly, holding the famous to these standards means perpetuating them as the “ideal” to which regular women have to aspire and that itself is harmful. I can bet that every girl can cite personal experiences of having to deal with these pressures.

I, for one, never felt comfortable with my body even when I was essentially the ideal size and weight. At my skinniest in late middle school and early high school, I was a bulimic head case obsessed with weighing myself and examining my body. Ironically, it wasn’t until college, until after I gained 20 pounds within the first four months of freshman year, that I was happy in my own skin. Here are some of the lessons my stretch marks have taught me:

Men don’t select their romantic or sexual partners on the basis of skinniness. The Freshman 15 was not the end to my love/sex life, and I’ve been told by countless guys that it’s your comfort with your body and not your actual body that matters most.
Skinny women have the same insecurities as everyone else. I have girlfriends with insane metabolism who desperately wish they could put on weight because they think they look “like boys”. They actually say that they’re afraid their bodies aren’t sexually attractive because of this.
The amount of time and stress wasted over the guilt of eating something fattening or not going to the gym would be better spent making peace with your body. Punishing yourself with unreasonable diets and fasts only promotes unhealthy habits and thinking. At 14, I threw up after a big meal. I’ve long since stopped feeling bad about dessert.

If you want to lose weight, then more power to you, but I fear that too many women aren’t doing this for the right reasons and further, that they believe reaching some “fitness goal”, as Crisci calls it, will fix their problem. The sad thing is that I don’t think there is an attainable goal to reach. After falling in love with my larger frame, I ended up losing all the weight I gained and more (most of it in the past year). I’m now at my lightest since puberty, and even now, I still get the exact same comments about being chubby and unattractive. I’m a size 2/4. I can assure you that even if I were emaciated, I would still get these comments.

As the Spike.com article indicates, even the most beautiful of women (people like Beyonce and Tyra Banks) simply aren’t beautiful enough. What does that tell those of us who are normal? There isn’t ever going to be a “good enough”, and that’s the biggest problem about these standards. So if you’re aiming for perfection, you’re going to be terribly disappointed, and if you’re going to slim down, then do it for yourself because what society expects of you is certainly not attainable.

2 Jan 2009
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“Does Lena Chen date Asians?”

“Does Lena Chen date asians/has she ever?”, asked an IvyGate commenter. “If she does/has, I will save my vitriol-laden ‘self-hating asian’ spiel for another day (and another year). If she doesn’t, well, what a tool she is.”

Just to clear the air on the topic, Asian guys are totally part of my repertoire, though commenters have often attacked me for only being interested in white men. Any regular reader of my blogs can probably deduce that I have no motivation for limiting my pool of potential bed partners. My sex life would be approximately 50% less interesting for it.

I think the reason so many people are under the impression that I exclusively date white guys is because I go to Harvard, the supposed playground of the privileged white male. So though I don’t reveal the identities of the guys I blog about, it’s just assumed that they’re 1) Harvard students and 2) not racial minorities. I actually don’t have a type. My last real crush was on a non-Harvard Asian guy, who I obsessed over for weeks (a fairly painful experience for my friends), and besides his lack of interest, the only reason I forgot about him is because I met Patrick. Of course, no one realizes that because I don’t give physical descriptions of my blog subjects (nor do I blog about everyone I’m interested in), so people extrapolate from public information and make yellow fever/Nazi jokes about the guy they do know I’m dating.

It’s a little insulting, because race is so insignificant a factor in compatibility that I get pretty outraged myself when people express any preference for it at all. Class (and education) is more of a factor than race. Political affiliation, religion, even nationality matter more. (Patrick being German, for example, does make a difference in how we relate). To be honest, I don’t even necessarily put a lot of emphasis on looks so skintone is totally irrelevant. Previous to Patrick, my friends openly lamented that some of my interests were simply unpresentable (think: geeky) or were too lazy to make themselves presentatble (think: slackerish). And it’s true, many were just not conventionally attractive by any standard, but that’s not why I was into them. Ironically enough, the only physical preference I’ve noticed over the years is my lack of attraction to blondes and men with lighter features. But since I’m currently dating the physical epitome of all that is Aryan, I’m clearly open to making exceptions.

Obviously, I’m not advocating that we all begin dating people we can’t bring ourselves to kiss. I think “types” are fine if you’re flexible about them and aware of why your preferences are what they are. However, I continue to find it strange when people claim that a certain race “just isn’t [their] type”. It’s even weirder when they make that claim for members of their own race (black men who refuse to date black women, etc). I’ve come across a lot of people, even Harvard kids, who as a rule, do not consider “x” group of people attractive. You do realize that your preferences are not organic but socially ingrained, right? We don’t magically exit the womb with a natural inclination to pursue those who look like Abercrombie models. To say that you simply can’t help your lack of interest in one race is to say that you fully accept the extent of your media-assisted brainwashing. So, the completely non-introspective statement “not my type” is not an acceptable excuse to rule out an entire portion of the human population. Maybe it’s not exactly a racist attitude, but I still think it’s extremely close-minded.

30 Dec 2008
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The Blueprint Myth

First off, a disclaimer: I’ve never tried the Blueprint Cleanse myself. However, one of my friends recently did and after I visited the website/conducted some independent research, I was pretty surprised that she thought it was a good idea. Blueprint is basically the juice version of Nutrisystem. For those unfamiliar with weight loss programs, Nutrisystem is a diet program that delivers prepared food to your home. Unlike programs like Weight Watchers, it doesn’t just tell you what to eat; it literally gives you what to eat. By consuming only said food, you’re supposed to lose weight. Blueprint is the same thing, except they don’t give you food; they give you juice and only juice and you’re not supposed to consume anything else. Oh, and it costs $80 a day.

Sound ridiculous? Well, on paper, yes. But if its press coverage is any indication, Blueprint has succeeded in selling its improbable premise. It’s landed mentions in practically every major women’s magazine and has established itself as the go-to “detox” program. That’s the interesting part: Blueprint isn’t marketed for weight loss (though given the liquid-only meals, you have to wonder what else it could possibly be good for). Instead, the company claims that by going on two-, three-, four-, or five-day fasts, our bodies cleanse themselves of toxins and we feel more energetic as a result. Well, I’d feel awfully awake too if my stomach were eating itself from the inside.

Does this all sound preposterous? To be fair, plenty of diet programs out there rely on questionable claims. However, I take issue with Blueprint in particular because of the following:

1. Price. I seriously resent the implication that one has to be rich in order to be healthy. With an $80/day price tag, Blueprint, which markets itself as some sort of life-changing/health-transforming program, is completely out of reach for the majority of consumers. I’m not going to judge people for what they choose to spend their money on, but I will definitely judge companies for ridiculously unjustified mark-ups on their products. Just because you can does not mean you should charge $15 per bottle of juice. I actually find that rather unethical for a company that is trying to promote health. Health ought to be egalitarian, and though I don’t necessarily advocate diet programs in general, I know that programs like Weight Watchers are much more accessible than Blueprint is.

2. Questionable claims. I may personally believe that Atkins is stupid, but I can’t deny that there is scientific evidence that cutting carbs will lead to weight loss (just as there’s evidence that you’ll gain it all back one you start eating carbs again). Hell, I’m sure even Nutrisystem works if you eat exactly what you’re given. With Blueprint, however, evidence is scant and vague at best. The website offers a lot of claims about the benefits of juice detoxing but doesn’t cite any actual scientific research. Blueprint’s premise rests on the assumption that eating the liquid form of spinach is somehow superior to just eating spinach. That’s the idea it’s selling to its customers. Objectively speaking, it’s a pretty bizarre idea. If you’re going to cast suspicion on solid food, wouldn’t you want to cite everything and anything that supports your claims? (And I’m not even talking about weight loss here, just its claims that it’ll “detox” your body.)

3. Lack of lasting benefits. Healthy day-to-day eating will always be more beneficial than fad dieting. The problem with Blueprint is that if you believe the ad copy, you get the impression that your body will morph into some uber-pure, radically changed form at the end of the program. Blueprint conflates short-term fasting with long-term healthy living when three or four days are clearly not going to change your body, no matter how much it “detoxes”. Weight Watchers at least teaches you to eat healthily for life.

For the record, I’m not denying that juicing can be beneficial. I actually think it’s a great way to consume a lot of needed nutrients in one sitting. Since Patrick bought a juicer earlier this fall, I started making juice every morning. But that’s precisely it: juice may be a good supplement with meals but it’s not a substitute for meals. Just because a machine allows me to consume four or five fruits at once does not mean I would like to give up biting into an apple any time soon.

I would even go so far as to advocate occasional liquid fasts for those with the willpower; plenty of people from athletes to monks practice short-term fasting with soups and juices and experience better performance or health as a result. I personally know several elderly, Asian people who do this. However, none of them ever had to sign up for a $80/day program (being Asian, they would probably balk at the price) and most don’t fast for more than 24 hours at a time (being elderly, they would probably pass out). They also usually fast under a doctor or nutritionist’s supervision and generally eat well anyway, so they aren’t deriving their good health from these fasts alone.

Might you get an energy boost from Blueprint? Entirely possible. Their ingredients are fresh, natural, and nutritious — that’s not something I doubt. But you’d probably get the same energy boost (and a fuller stomach and wallet) if you ate only salad and fruit for three days straight instead. The time and money you’d be spending on Blueprint would be better spent on a gym membership, a personal trainer, a juicer, or even just solid, organic food.

27 Dec 2008
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Why women shouldn't say 'I love you' first

(via christineyu):

From the article:

This issue can cause a bit of commotion. “What is this, the Victorian era?” wrote one person, “if you truly love someone, tell them. Otherwise you’re just playing outdated coquettish games.” Another put it more diplomatically: “I don’t think I’ve ever said ‘I love you’ first, but someone has to do it. It’s okay to take a few risks.”

I appreciate both arguments and understand the sentiments behind them, but at the risk of having my feminist card revoked, I think it’s naïve for a woman to utter those three little words before a man does.

Unlike asking a man out, making a move on him, or even proposing, there’s no action-based response to the first “I love you.” It’s all words, it’s all emotion. In that moment, he either loves you back or he doesn’t — you only hear the black or white of a ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ not the grey of “Well, I like you a whole lot and I could see myself falling in love with you, but I’m just not quite there yet.” And the truth is, it often takes men longer to get there than it does for women. Men process their emotions more slowly, they’re usually more cautious about taking their feelings and relationships to the next level. So what happens if you get there first and you say it and he’s not there yet? What happens when your “I love you” is met with a “thank you,” or worse, a dear-in-headlights look? Well, it stings, sure, but more than that, it can stop a perfectly happy and healthy relationship in its tracks before it’s even too far from the station.

This is the stupidest article I’ve ever read. It makes a huge assumption about the emotional immaturity of men without any empirical basis whatsoever and turns the guy’s repetition of three words into a do-or-die situation for the relationship. Actually? Words aren’t such a big deal; actions are.

Until I dated Patrick, I never realized that the concept of “I love you” as this huge important turning point was strictly an American phenomenon. I didn’t spring it on him right away but when I did, I definitely had certain expectations about what his response should be. When he didn’t respond in kind, I was extremely upset. But this is what he explained to me:

English isn’t his native language and the word “love” as it’s used in German is completely different from how it’s used in English. While I casually toss it at friends, pets, and the end of phone calls, the German equivalent would never be employed similarly.
Even if he doesn’t want to say “I love you”, it doesn’t mean that his feelings for me are any different than mine for him.

I didn’t buy any of this at first. I thought his cultural difference argument was just an excuse, and I was generally a teary mess whenever the topic came up. But in recent months, I’ve come around to his viewpoint more and more, partially because I realized that I know someone else who feels the same way Patrick does: my mother!

The first phrase non-native speakers learn in Chinese is often wo ai ni, which translates to “I love you”. But the funny thing is that there’s never actually a situation where those words would be uttered. Ask any Chinese speaker. There are phrases like “I care about you” and “I miss you”, but in conversation (soap opera dialogue, included), no one would ever say wo ai ni. So my mother doesn’t say wo ai ni either; it just wouldn’t be appropriate. But unlike Patrick, she does, however, say “I love you” — yet, I have to admit and she does too, this is only because there’s no other way for her to translate her maternal affection with her limited English. And naturally, because Chinese is how we communicate 90% of the time, “I love you” means much less to me than the things she says in her native language.

I don’t know why it took so long for me to see the similarities between the German/Chinese usage of the word love. I clearly had a lot of expectations based on romantic ideals picked up from 90s teen TV shows and women’s magazines. Even if Patrick’s explanation made intellectual sense, when it came to our relationship, I wasn’t willing to give up what I thought those three words should symbolize, even if everything else he did already made his feelings perfectly clear.

21 Jul 2008
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Have I been in the Ivy League too long?

Okay, so, my judgment is not quite as harsh as this one, but I was reading this now-infamous piece by Jessica Roy (I know I’m a week late, but give me a break) and I was thinking the entire time: wait, what’s wrong with any of the events that occurred at this party — it sounds just like Harvard!

Especially the following passage, which I assume was meant to be the most condemning:

Sebastian lives with his parents in a multi-million-dollar brownstone in Brooklyn. There were Persian rugs and chandeliers; the fireplace mantle had pictures of Sebastian wearing a suit as a child. On his parents’ armoire sat a set of old keys and a couple of grams of coke for anyone who might be interested. I felt sad for him, for having all of these assholes in his house who made fun of him for making peach Cosmos. He was an empty trust-fund hipster in his parents’ mansion where all the literary kids came to play.

Everyone there went to Columbia or Harvard or Yale. They argued over grammar and syntax, the difference between a metaphor and a metonymy. Someone sparked a joint and everyone drank and simmered in their own self-congratulatory pseudo-intellectualism. For the first time in my life I felt intellectually inferior. I could not name my favorite passage in The Recognitions. I was tongue-tied.

Without telling her what the article was about, I read the above two paragraphs to Kennedy, and she responded, “So … what’s the big deal?”

I mean, maybe we’re completely desensitized to pretension and intellectual arrogance and all of that, but honest-to-god, the above scene probably has played out before me upward of 20 times in the past three years of college. I have friends whose parents live in lavish mansions and friends who enjoy drugs (legal or not) and friends who regularly discuss linguistics, philosophy, politics, or all of the above during a single dining hall meal. I’m not really sure what’s so terrible about any of that. I’m pretty sure that’s why there is a place like Harvard: so that weird ass kids too smart for their own good have more of the same to hang out with.

And yes, Jessica complains that people are fake, dishonest, or sucking up to get ahead, but knowing Harvard kids, they could also just be socially awkward, conflict-shy, or assholes indifferent to being treated badly by other assholes. In fact, that probably describes 90% of the people I hang out with. That doesn’t make them bad people nor does it even make them pretentious. I have begun to slowly hate that word because even though I use it all the time to describe my classmates, its implication is that the person being pretentious is showing off just to show off. I know for a fact that aforementioned friends are not trying to show off how smart they are. They just happen to be unfortunately saddled with way too much intellectual curiosity and not enough common sense to shut up when appropriate.

Jessica goes to NYU, which might as well be Ivy League but without the history, and is clearly a more than decent writer, so I don’t get why she feels “intellectually inferior” in front of these people. I go to Harvard but I don’t know what the fuck a metonymy is and I’m too lazy to Google it right now so I’m just going to ask Kennedy (who happens to be into linguistics) when I finish this blog entry. About 70% of the time, I have no idea what my friends Tripp or Leo or their German philosophy fan boy pals are going on about but it really doesn’t faze me. Usually, I make out the words “Nietzsche”, “singularity”, “Foucault”, and then give up. But does it make them pretentious or even pseudo-intellectual for talking about this shit? No, because even though I find it boring and infuriating that this is what I must listen to while eating an already unappetizing meal, I know that Tripp and Leo genuinely find Hannah Arendt interesting. There’s a reason they’re friends with each other: common, boring interests.

So that’s why I find it so hard to get riled up about this conspiracy of the literati. None of the people Jessica went to this party with are significant to anyone but a select group of twenty-somethings in New York, just as none of my friends are significant to anyone but a select group in the college policy debate circuit and maybe the Currierwire mailing list. Perhaps Harvard has finally succeeded in brainwashing me, but more likely, I think Jessica’s impression of the influence of Gould, Gessen, and the like is just overinflated. I could also be one of those “underage Lolitas in slutty dresses” she’s talking about.

28 May 2008
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Quit gawking. It’s just sex.

I talked to Susannah Breslin today about what it’s like in college nowadays and what I think about what others think and how I handle all the shit that’s thrown at my blog and views on sexuality. Mid-interview, I verbalized for the first time something that I didn’t realize until recently. I don’t care anymore what people think.

This hasn’t always been the case. I used to care what my friends thought, then I cared what my readers thought, then I cared what agents and producers and capitalist goons thought. And I’ve always cared what reporters and other bloggers thought. (But maybe that’s because I give more credit to those who write.)

Now? Hm. I pretty much only consult with Patrick and Kennedy about what I write, which is essentially consulting with myself (since I live at the former’s apartment and speak with the latter on a near hourly basis). I don’t get upset when commenters hate on me, or when other bloggers hate on me, or when I realize I am completely un-marketable and most likely going to be poor for a very long time.

I think that’s the point. Having no options, that is. I wrote a sex blog for nearly two years and during this time, not only did I write explicitly about sexual acts and depression and all my fuck-ups but also, I had a crazy ex who leaked my naked photos on the Internet. I mean, I’m not marketable in love and not marketable in the labor force and not marketable in civilized society, really. And when you begin to realize that you are the antithesis of everything acceptable or American, that your Ivy League resume is chock full of life experience but nothing more, that the only people who will love you are the rare ones who forgive first impressions, it’s then that you stop giving a shit and start living the way you want to live.

Because here is the thing: there is so much shit said about me on the Internet that I couldn’t wake up everyday worrying about it or I probably would’ve offed myself by now. I have no option but to stop caring and when I stopped caring, I realized something incredible: I don’t have to care. Whether someone thinks I’m a slut should make no difference to me. Why is that something I should cry about? Why should any of us care what anyone else thinks? It’s both hilarious and sad that in order to love myself fully and completely, to be totally comfortable with the decisions I make, it took everyone else hating me and deriding my choices.

Also? I may be a whore by societal standards, but I am not an attention whore. I go to Harvard for chrissakes. Do you think I don’t realize that the only reason anyone gives my blog the time of day is because I am a living, walking, subversive abomination that they expect to crash and burn? Do you think I’m so deluded as to believe that most people are cheering me on? I may be egotistic, but I’m not quite that naive. So I realize that the majority of “attention” I get is negative. Why in the world would I court that? Google Adsense profits of an incredible $1/day? I don’t think so. It’s not about money. It’s not about all publicity being good publicity. It’s about I can so I will.

Here’s a summation for the critics: this is just how I am and this is just how I’d be, whether or not you’re reading. I don’t care for your attention anymore than you care for my whoring. The difference between us is a matter of liberation. I can fuck whoever and live however I like and feel fine about it all at the end of the day. But even those who despise me find it hard to look away or to bite their tongue or to not personally intervene and yell “NO YOU ARE WRONG”. Think about that for a second, and tell me: which one of us is captive?

1 May 2008
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According to Gossip Girls, there are exactly two minorities on the Upper East Side.

So I know everyone loves Gossip Girls and everything but has it occurred to anyone else that this is just another in a long line of television shows about White high schoolers with their fabulous/dramatic White American lives? There was 90210, then The O.C., and now there’s Gossip Girl. And unlike the other two shows, there are at least stock minority characters on Gossip Girl but um, they don’t actually speak. Ever. Instead, they run around alongside their Queen Bee and let the pretty White girl do the talking for them. Maybe I’m making a big fuss out of everyone’s favorite guilty pleasure but what bothers me is that the guiltiest part of this pleasure is something no one seems to have picked up on: Blair Waldorf’s reign over her two minority minions stinks of colonialism.

(Apparently, though, there’s a new Asian girl on the block and she occupies the incredibly stereotype-busting role of a … geek. Revolutionary.)

So here’s the thing: yeah, the OMFG posters are totally hard to decipher and everyone on this show does look alike, because White women are the only ones who get roles of any significance and degrees of paleness get pretty hard to differentiate. Thank Josh Schwartz (the same man who brought you the impressively homogenous cast of The O.C.) who apparently decided that he couldn’t even find a Black or Asian chick who was funny enough to deliver zingers. So a major character role? That’s out of the question for chicks with melanin.

Sure, television is escapist and everyone knows that there are minorities in New York even if they’re not on Gossip Girl New York, but this is the kind of shit that leads to minority girls growing up wishing they looked white. This is what perpetuates the idea that all Black people are thugs and all Asian people are nerds, because those are the only roles they ever occupy in popular entertainment. And Gossip Girl is the most insidious kind of messaging because it seems harmless and it’s high school and therearecuteboysomg! But just ask yourself, how fucking weird would it be if Blair were Black or if Serena were Asian? Put the face of a Black woman on that OMFG poster. Would that jolt you in the least? Would the show be less popular? Would you find it harder to relate or get invested in these characters? Because I can relate to White actresses better than I can Black actresses and that doesn’t make sense because I’m ASIAN. And as much as one loathes to admit it, as much as I don’t want to admit it, there’s something about a pretty White face that sells.

This is why I don’t watch television.

2 Feb 2008
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Tango Magazine: "Is Your Gay BFF Ruining Your Love Life?"

This article is hilarious because of its absurdity. I find all of the following choice excerpts ridiculous:

“Gay men might be experiencing emotional attraction, but straight women have to deal with the physical attraction as well … Intellectually, Smith understood that Lloyd was gay, but found it impossible to wish he wasn’t.”
“They spent hours sharing intimate aspects of their lives; their friendship became a platonic love affair … In adoring and idealizing Zuritsky, Karpel had become dependent on her for the deep intimacy that he couldn’t find with a man.”
“I, for one, would trade a million giggle sessions with a hot woman for one real night with a gay man.”

I think the article does a poor job distinguishing between casual friendships and serious ones, which is why the last bullet point really bothered me. There’s a difference between a “gay best friend” and a “best friend who’s gay”. If same-sex friendships shouldn’t be discarded for flings with the opposite sex, then shouldn’t straight-gay friendships be held to the same standard? Maybe the reason some of the friendships discussed were so easily dismissed is because they weren’t very strong relationships to begin with.

I have a huge pet peeve about the gay best friend stereotype. I am no more Carrie than Jason is Stanford. Jason is so often treated like an accessory of mine. Girls exclaim to me all the time that they want a gay best friend of their own, like oh my god, where did I get him? Honey, my best friend’s sexual orientation is not last season’s studded headband.

Come to think of it, I actually don’t know any girl whose best friend is gay. I only know women who are casual acquaintances with — or worse, groupies for — gay males. So here’s a secret: the way you know if you have a gay best friend or a best friend who’s gay is if his homosexuality isn’t what makes your friendship unique. Jason isn’t my best friend because he’s gay; it’s because we have a lot of the same issues over unhappy childhoods, disillusionment with Harvard, and poor choices in love. We’re both sociology majors. We like the same cities. We also love each other like any pair of best friends would, sans the bizarre sexual attraction referenced in the article. (I have met and befriended plenty of gay men in my life, and I have felt as little physical desire for them as they have felt for me.) I don’t ever wish I could date Jason. I love him in an unconditional, weirdly sibling-like way, similar to the same sisterly manner I view Joanna, my best friend from high school.