Phil Quotes

Phil is wonderful.  Here are some wonderful Phil quotes for your enjoyment.

"Bellingham is a very conservative town."

Me: "Are you telling me that more than one person here owns a private island?"

Phil: "It's not that big of a deal, Honey.  Lots of people own islands."

(To a man who wrongly accused me of letting my dog poo on his lawn)

"You need to stop harassing my wife, or I will take a shit on your lawn!"

Me: Do you think I'm wasting my brains by teaching yoga?

Phil: (laughs and laughs) I am not touching that question with a ten foot pole.

Me: What?  No, I won't get mad.  I just want to know what you think!

Phil: (goes into the kitchen and turns on the faucet) I can't hear you over the water!

Me: I just mean-

Phil: No, I still can't hear you!

(Driving past the multimillion dollar homes on the way to The Huntington)

"I bet all these people get really annoyed that cars drive past their houses all the time to get to The Huntington."

Only Phil has sympathy for the poor, poor rich people who have to deal with cars driving on the roads.

Microcon!

For those of you following my Facebook posts, here is your answer.  Yes!  We made it into Microcon!  Here's how it went- 

Nadia and I showed up at the library, where the convention was being held.  The meeting rooms and the restrooms are on the same level, so no one stopped me as I went downstairs, assuming I was taking my small child to the bathroom.  

Muh hahaha!

But when I got to the meeting room, it was locked!  LOCKED!  And not one of those pickable locks - it was one of those keypads where you have to know the password.  I did not know the password.  I was sad.  But, I suppose these foreign dignitaries need certain security measures to prevent assassinations/troll attacks, etc.  

But then, a miracle!  Out of the room stepped an extremely tall man, about my age.  I liked his intelligent eyes, and kind face.  I also was extremely impressed with his fancy purple velvet cape, and his metal breastplate.  Yep.  I knew what I had to do.

I waited for a minute, and then I followed him.

Here's the thing.  When you want something from a stranger, you can't just ask, straight away.  It scares people off.  You have to verbally fuck around for a while.  This is where it helps to play dumb.  So I approached him and asked "Excuse me - what's going on in that room down there?"

He was only too happy to tell me!  He explained about Microcon, and how it was a meeting of people who had formed their own independent countries.  He himself was the King of Arcadia.  He introduced me to his family - two adorable children and a wife.  The kids seemed quite happy in their prince and princess regalia - I wanted the princess dress for Nadia - it was truly fabulous.  The Queen was dressed in regular thirty-something-American-mom clothes, and she looked like she needed a hundred beers.  Whether that was from the convention, or from wrangling two small children, or from her queenly duties, I do not know.  

The King of Arcadia then said the magic words.  "Would you like to join us?"

YES.  YES I WOULD.

And so, I was escorted into Microcon by the King of Arcadia Himself!

When we got into the room, a presentation was in progress.  It was a suited young man from California Republic, talking about the plans for updating their embassy.  He had a very fundamentalist look about him.

All around, everyone was fascinating.  There were men in very serious looking military clothes.  There were lots of people in Ren-Faire type clothes.  Many people were dressed in ordinary outfits.  There was one guy who was wearing a crown that looked suspiciously like a Burger King crown, but I withhold my judgment.  After all, it is not for me to look askance at other cultures.  Maybe Burger King is a very important part of life in his country.  

The California Repubic fellow ended his speech, and was followed by The King of Uberstadt, a kingdom located on an island in the Pacific Northwest.  He began telling the story of how he got the idea to form a country, his inspirations, etc.  

And then, Nadia.

I should preface this by saying that it was Nadia's naptime, and I had no business taking her to a meeting of foreign dignitaries.  I fed her a large lunch, hoping that the food would make her content and a bit logey, but it didn't.  Unfortunately, she is conditioned to sleep about a half hour after lunch.  It is our routine, every single day.  Lunch, play for a little bit, nap.  It's Pavlovian.

First, Nadia was fascinated by the cameramen.  (There were cameramen.  Documentary makers, maybe?  Not sure.)  She kept pointing to the cameras, wanting me to take her to them.  I refused.  She started yelling.  "Shhh!" I shushed her.  This worked, sort of.

And then she saw it.  The Hat.

If you haven't spent much time with Nadia lately, you may not know this, but Nadia is very into hats lately.  She LOVES them.  She puts them on.  She takes them off again.  She puts them on  you.  She takes them off of you.  She loves hats.  LOVES them.  

Well this one gentleman had a very fancy, colorful hat with feathers in it.  It was very eye-catching and fun.  Nadia wanted that hat.  She kept pointing at it, over and over, saying "that"  "that"  "that", which is her catch-all phrase for "Give it to me".  I tried to distract her with a pamphlet for the Republic of Molossia, which was even less effective than it sounds, if that's possible.  But Nadia simply refused to respect the King of Uberstadt's authority, and continued to mak noise during his speech.

She began crying.  Crying like the saddest little girl in the world.  And I knew my fun was over.  I suppose I could have tried to get the hat for her, but I don't think that would have gone over very well.  Besides, the meeting was very quiet and serious, and not really a place for a child Nadia's age.  I was extremely disappointed.    

I will probably never get the opportunity to attend another Microcon again.  I am sad.

Concluding Thoughts - 

I know that to most people, these folks are crazy.  Deserving of contempt even.  They are jokes.  But I actually rather respect them, and here's why you should too!

It takes a very special and awesome kind of person to decide to form a brand new country.  There are certain personailty traits one must have to take this kind of action.

1) Confidence

You must have confidence in yourself and your own abilities in order to say "You know, I think I could run my own country!"  Some people might call it over-confidence, or even arrogance, but those are the kinds of people who lack confidence themselves, and who feel threatened by people who aren't crippled by self-doubt.

2) A Can-Do-Attitude!

To start your own country, you have to be the sort of person who is willing to roll up your sleeves and solve problems yourself.  You don't wait for politicians in Washington to solve your problems for you, or for lobbyists to help your cause - you just do it!  Yourself!

3) Imagination

People who start their own countries are not bound by the conventions of the societies into which they are born.  They have the creativity and imagination to see that the world could be different.  They have an idea in their minds of what they want the world to be, and they do their damndest to make it happen!  

4) Independence

If you form your own country, you open yourself up to ridicule and scorn.  They know this.  They have no illusions about how they are perceived by others - but adhering to their principles and ideals is more important to them than acceptance in mainstream society.  We can debate whether this is actually a posititve trait or not - after all, it is important to work and play well with others, as humans are social animals - but I think we can all agree that a certain amount of independence is desirable in most people.

Are these countries doomed?  Probably.  Are they taken seriously by "real" countries?  No.  Are they making any real difference in the world? Meh, debatable.  But I still think there is something admirable about microcountries and the people who found them.  These are people who were, for whatever reason, unhappy with the way things were in their natal countries, and so, rather than whine about how awful things are, they simply said "Fuck it.  I'm gonna start my own country.  And everything's gonna be done exactly how I want it done.  I am the captain of my soul, I am the master of my fate!"  Is it the most effective solution?  Probably not.  But dammit, they do it anyway.  And I like that about them.

Teaching Kids to Share

It's extremely common for children's programs to tackle the "sharing" issue.  And with good reason!  Generosity is one of the most important characteristics a person can have.  I would be extremely disappointed if Nadia turned out to be a miserly person who refused to help others in need.  Helping others who need help is, in my opinion, like 85% of what it is to be a good person.  

However.

The way in which these children's programs tackle the subject leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The show or book will start off with two characters.  We'll call them Ben and Jerry.

Ben has a really cool toy.  He's playing with it by himself.  Jerry comes up to Ben and says he wants to play with it.  Ben says no, because it's his toy, etc.  Jerry whines.  A teacher or other well meaning adult intervenes and makes Ben share the toy with Jerry.  Together, Ben and Jerry learn that it's much more fun to share the toy than it is to play with it by oneself.  The end.  

Ok.  So Ben has learned that sharing is a good thing to do, and that it can even be fun.  Great!  I fully support this message.

But what has Jerry learned?

Jerry has learned that if he wants something that someone else has, he is entitled to it, or at least to a portion of it.  If Jerry lacks a cool toy, then it is Ben's responsibility to share his cool toy with Jerry.  Jerry is never encouraged to find his own toy.  Jerry is never told that he should wait until Ben is done playing with the toy, and then play with it.  It is always Ben who forced to share, whether he wants to or not.  

Also, it is never, ever discussed that Ben might have a good reason for not wanting to share with Jerry. Maybe that toy was given to Ben by his dead grandmother, and it is special to him, and he wants to make sure it doesn't get broken.  Maybe Jerry is a gross kid who wipes his boogers all over toys.  Maybe Ben simply doesn't like Jerry and doesn't want to play with him.  

I know that I'm moving into morally fuzzy territory here.  After all, it's mean for Ben to exclude Jerry from his game, isn't it?  Shouldn't all kids get along and be nice to each other and like each other?  Yes, in an ideal world.  But in reality, some kids are not very likeable, just like how some adults are not very likeable.  It's never ok to be cruel to someone we don't like.  Children need to know that it's NEVER ok to be mean to another person.  We have to control ourselves and make an honest effort to be kind, even to mean, gross people.  But it doesn't follow that we have to spend our free time socializing with people we don't like.  

I am terrified of the day that some evil little asshole is mean to Nadia.  Of course, I hope that it will never happen, that she will be universally loved by everyone she meets, and that she will never lack for awesome toys to play with, and that her entire life will be nothing but sunshine and rainbows.  But that might be a tad unrealistic.  Someday, there might be a little tyrant on the playground, who has the most awesome of all possible toys, and maybe Nadia will ask to share it.  I hope that the little tyrant says yes, and allows Nadia to play with her.  But if the tyrant refuses, I hope that Nadia maintains her dignity, refuses to whine to a teacher, and finds new friends and makes her own fun.  

Catcalling

It's featured in movies and TV shows regularly.  It's wailed over and angrily mocked in feminist blogs.  There are lampoons of it all over Youtube.  Women complain about it happening to them.

A nice looking woman walks past a construction site.  The construction worker and his buddies yell filthy comments at the woman.  The woman is disgusted and gives them a dirty look, or in comedies, she sometimes interacts with the men, putting them in their place.  This sort of behavior is so very, very common.

Yet it has never happened to me.  Not once.

I've been whistled at, but only by boyfriends, or male friends being funny.  It was never anything threatening or disgusting - it was always in good fun.  And though I know I should be happy about the fact that I've never been treated disrespectfully in this way, I can't help but feel the tiniest bit...sad about it.  I can't help but feel that it's in some way a comment on my lack of physical appeal.

I know that this makes me a Very Bad Feminist.  I know that what I'm saying is fucked up on many, many levels.  But really?  Every woman in the world has been catcalled except me?  Why not me?  Am I so asexual that no sophomoric construction worker would ever dream of saying something inappropriate to me?

When I have these thoughts, I sometimes tell myself that it's not because I'm the ugliest woman in the world, it's because of how I carry myself!  I exude confidence and strength, and those idiot men know that I can't be intimidated or bothered by their shitty behavior.  I'm like Professor McGonagall.  Or the Dowager from Downton Abbey.  Or the Queen of England.  Then I remember that those are all old woman - badasses, yes - but old women - and then I feel kind of bad again.  

I'm not jealous of the women who get catcalled, exactly.  I understand that it's not a GOOD thing for men to treat women as if they are sexually available, simply because they are walking down the street.  But it can't be normal that it's never happened to me ONE SINGLE TIME!   I'm like a fifty year old virgin, or a grown man who has never driven a car, or anyone over the age of five who has never seen The Wizard of Oz.   And yes, I'm an idiot, and yes, I'm being awful, but whatever.   I'm also right.  

I Hope I Don't Forget These Things Now That I'm a Parent

1) It is not my place to be the fashion police.

Of course, it is perfectly acceptable to enforce basic rules of propriety - for instance, I would not let Nadia wear a Catwoman suit to a funeral - but if it is just a matter of personal taste, I need to stay the fuck out of it.  

When I was young, I saw the following horrors thrust upon my fellow children -

* a boy forced to wear extremely high waisted jeans, because his parents disapproved of the saggy look.  They seemed unaware of the fact that there was a happy medium between tight cowboy jeans and jeans so low that the underwear showed. 

* a girl who was not allowed to shave her legs until she was thirteen, even though she was hairy like a male yeti.  She was mocked relentlessly.  What was her mother thinking?  What was she afraid would happen if her hairy-ass daughter shaved her legs?  That she would contract tetanus?  That she would turn into a slut?

* A girl who was not allowed to wear nail polish unless it was pink or red, because any other color was "inappropriate".  

* A girl who was not allowed to cut her ridiculously long hair, because her dad wanted it long for some reason.  She looked like she was raised on a polygamous compound, and she clearly hated it.

All of these are examples of parents forcing their taste on their children, to their children's detriment.  Fashion changes.  What was cool when I was young will not be what is cool when Nadia goes to school.  And unless her clothing choices are offensive or dangerous in some way, I need to stay out of it and let her experiment with how she wants to present herself.

2) The kids who kiss my ass are not necessarily the nice kids.

We all knew those kids.  They were super polite and perfect when adults were around.  And in return, all adults loved them.  "Why don't you invite Kid A to your birthday party?  She's such a nice girl!"  

But she wasn't a nice girl, was she, ladies?  No.  She was an evil bitch.  But nothing you said would ever convince the adults in your life that she was anything but an angel.

3) The kid who has no manners is not a bad kid.

The kid who comes to my house and has no understanding of how to eat at a table,  who never says please or thank you, who uses foul language, etc - is NOT a bad person.  He is neglected, and possibly abused.  Obviously no one gives a shit about him, and no one has ever bothered to teach the child how to behave.   Lots of times, I've heard parents say that they don't want Such and Such KId to come to their house because she's rude and awful.   They need to realize that A) If a child doesn't know how to behave, it's not the child's fault, and B) Allowing the child to hang around  your home will help to teach that child how to behave properly.  Children learn my example.  If you ban the rude kid from your home, all you've done is teach that child that manners are the domain of snobby, exclusionary assholes, and she might not ever learn any better.

There is Nothing Wrong With Aspiring to be Married

Recently, I've heard complaints about the Disney movie "Frozen".  The complaints sound something like this.  "Well, yeah I guess it's nice that Disney has a character who questions whether it's sane to marry a man you just met, but still, there is marriage involved, and one of the characters aspires to be married, which is damaging to young girls because it sets a bad example."

Let's set aside the fact that some people just like to bitch, and that Disney will NEVER be able to redeem themselves in the eyes of certain people who hold their 1950s cartoons against them.  Let's also set aside the fact that in the movie Frozen, the other main character becomes a LEADER OF A COUNTRY.  Let's pretend that the issue is simply that Anna wants to get married.

So what?

Look, I'm a feminist.  I fully agree that girls should have goals outside of getting married, and that they should know that their value is not attached to their ability to marry.  But that doesn't seem to be the point being made when people complain about "Frozen" and its like.  Their idea seems to be that little girls shouldn't aspire to be married at all, and shoudn't even think about it until they've earned their Phds in physics and won their Nobel Prizes.  

I think that's silly and sad.  Because in addition to being a feminist, I am also a big fan of marriage.

Most little girls (not all of them, I know) are natural romantics.  Their hearts are open and wide and strong.  They haven't been beaten down by the world yet.  Their hearts have never been broken.  It's to be hoped that they see examples of healthy marriages all around them.  Is it so wrong for them to want that for themselves one day?  Is a little girl who dreams about having a big wedding and meeting someone who sees her specialness and cherishes and supports her somehow anti-feminist?  Why?  It's not like we live in the dark ages when getting married was the end of the road for a woman, and she could kiss all her dreams goodbye.  Today's men want their women to be happy and to be successful.  They aren't threatened by it like previous generations have been.  Today's marriages, more often than not, are partnerships where the partners help each other achieve their goals.  

Is marriage for everyone?  No.  But it is for most people.  And telling little girls that marriage is not something they should want or plan for is unrealistic and silly.  Should it be their only goal in life?  Of course not.  But most girls are intelligent and complex enough to have more than one goal

Fur

When I was a little girl, I had a fur cap. I bought it for 25 cents at a garage sale.  It was nasty and old, and it smelled like eight kinds of death, and I'm pretty sure it was made of beaver fur - but I loved it intensely for a whole week.  It mad me feel elegant and classy, like Cruella DeVille or Veruca Salt.  In it, I was a sophisticated young lady...whose head smelled like a decaying wet dog corpse.  

Of course, as I grew older I realized my error, but I never completely changed my mind.  You see...I love fur.

I know.  Believe me, I know.  I absolutely hate cruelty to animals, and killing a small, furry creature just so you can wear its skin is horrific, evil and ghoulish.  It is wrong.  Wrong.

But so pretty.

Recently, I was shopping at Saks and found an absolutely gorgeous mink coat.  I knew it was wrong - so very, very wrong - but I ran my hands over it and goggled at it.  It was a thing of beauty.  I looked at the price tag - $8000.  I sighed.  Dammit.  I tried to take it from its hanger to try it on, but it couldn't be moved - I guess they didn't want people stealing it or whatever.  Fine.

So instead, I let my imagination do the work.  I picture myself strolling along the streets of Paris, in my mink coat, with a matching cap.  I'm wearing bright red lipstick and I'm smoking, even though I'm not a smoker, but you smoke when you're walking down the streets of Paris in a fuck-you-you-can't-judge-me-because-I'm-fucking-fantastic-mink-coat.  I catch a glimpse of myself in a cafe window and I raise an eyebrow at myself in approval.  I sit down at a table in the cafe and order a single glass of chilled white wine, and I sip it while reading some pretentious exiistentialist garbage.  I look pensively out of windows.  I am admired by everyone.  I am the girl in the mink coat.   Perhaps I'll eat a single chocolate truffle and then stroll back to my tiny white apartment and change into a peignoir and congratulate myself for being so thin.  

I am perfectly aware that fur is immoral. I am perfectly aware that there is no cause for owning a fur coat in Southern California, where it never, ever snows, or even gets that cold.  But dammit, I want one all the same.