Yeah, so I didn't learn my lesson about the Butch-Femme.com forums, and I was reading more stuff, and really I shouldn't. It's not like I enjoy being angry. Okay, well, I do, but I don't enjoy it enough to do it three nights in a row.
I was reading the forum post titled "What Do You Love Most About Femmes?". Obviously, there were going to be some generalizations flying about. I knew that from the start, but I couldn't help myself. It couldn't be as bad as the "Open Love-Letters to Femmes" post, which included several lines about "thank you for letting me protect you from the cruelties of the word". Protect me? Bitch, I'm taller than you and weigh thirty pounds more. If anything needs curbstomping, I think my eensy little pumps can do it as well as your great big Docs can.
You know those email forwards that are lists of why dogs are better than women, or chocolate is better than men, or any noun is better than any other noun only with an extra helping of sexism? You know the sort. Someone basically wrote their own, regarding the preciousness of darling little femmes.
Here's a few reasons why butches love femmes...
[cut for length because it was seriously long and stupid --Aerin]
-They will always smell good even if its just shampoo
-How cute they look when they sleep
-How cute they are when they eat
-The way they take hours to get dressed but in the end makes it all worth while
-the way they fish for compliments even though you both know that you think she's the most beautiful thing on this earth
-How cute they are when they argue
-the way they smile
- the way they fall into your arms when they cry
-then the way they apologize for crying over something that silly
-The way they hit you and expect it to hurt
-then the way they apologize when it does hurt . (even though we don't admit it)!
-the way their tears make you want to change the world so that it doesn't hurt her anymore.....
Okay, most of those are trite, general sentimentalities that could apply to anyone. Yes, it's very cute when your partner smiles, eats, sleeps, drinks beer and curses just like a little grownup, etc. A few of these, however, made me wonder who these butches are dating. They're cute when they hit you, and you have to pretend it doesn't hurt or you'll lose all your mannish points? They're so cute when they argue with you? I've been in a few relationships, and never when my partner and I are arguing have I gone "Aw, he/she looks so adorable when he/she is pointing out my logical fallacies!"
And what is all this about crying? My ex probably saw me cry a half dozen times in our 4 years together. Butches of the internet, please, acknowledge that just as not all of you are the same, not all femmes are delicate flowers who require tear-sopping from the handkerchief you gallantly whip from your hipster blazer pocket.
Goddamn. Now I have to go out into the wilderness and shoot a moose, just to prove myself. Look what you jerks made me do. You're just lucky you're so cute when you argue.
I need to stop reading the forums on butch-femme.com, and stop reading anything regarding the butch/femme dynamic, because it is making me grind my teeth to gritty, wet dust. You would think that a group of marginalized people would avoid gender stereotypes like the plague. But noooooo. In case you were wondering, internet, all butches fix cars, lift weights, and top their pretty little wifies in the bedroom. All femmes take two hours to get ready for dates, love to make dinner for Daddy, and love to be done on their backs. Trufax; the B-F forums have educated me.
The 'Humor' board on Butch-Femme is the worst. It's all the misogynistic jokes that were unacceptable by the nineties, only with 'woman' crossed out and 'femme' inserted. The disdain for feminine partners is practically palpable. The forum is filled with butches metaphorically patting the femmes on the head, and the femmes there are lapping it up. The most resistance they get is a femme going "Heyyyy, it only takes me 45 minutes to get ready, and it's just because I wanna look pretty for you!". Every stereotype ever applied to masculine or feminine roles is in full effect, and it makes me want to break things.
I change my own tires, pay for my own dinners, and dominate my butch! Oh, crap, I'm breaking the dynamic! If it's not a faximile of 1950's married life, you're clearly doing it wrong!
Also, did I mention that I hate 'chivalry'? I really do. If you make a big damn show of opening doors for me and pulling out my chair, we can't date, because apparently I'm too weak and floppy to leave my house. E opens doors for me usually because I walk slowly and she tends to get there first, and she gives me her arm when we're going down stairs, since I'm often in 5 inch heels, but she doesn't do it with the wink-and-leer-making-a-point attitude I've seen so often. She waits for me to give her the little glance that says "Oh, shit. I might fall down." Common courtesy makes me happy; knightly graces and the assumption that I need help will get you a scalding sneer. I could stand to be a little politer to her about not letting her pay for me when we go out, but I don't think it punches a hole in her masculine energy to say "I have a steady paycheck. Put your wallet away, honey." Or maybe it does, but I'm lucky enough to have a girl who doesn't put too much stock in Being The Dude.
Oh, hay, guise! A cool article on femme invisibility, written by a butch who actually gets it! Yay!
Hey, what are you doing for the next 48 minutes? You should be watching this:
So everywhere I go, people are always asking me, "Aerin, what sort of music do you like?". Not really, because I go largely ignored, but if they DID ask, I would certainly tell them all about it.
To begin with, I'm a big fan of shoegaze. Well, more like a fair-weather friend of shoegaze, because some of it makes me cringe, but even the really dull, repetitive stuff (yes, you, Catherine Wheel. I am in fact talking to you) is pretty darn good.
This is Curve. Curve is awesome, even if you don't like the guitar-reverb-and-ticky-ticky-drum-machi
I also like gothic music. It was the first genre of music that ever made me go, "Hey, I like music!"
Wolfsheim- Approaching Lightspeed
Hungry Lucy- Grave (Digger Remix)
Sometimes I listen to pop. I really like a lot of nineties pop, because it had a sort of edginess that I lack. Do you like Garbage? You should.
I used to be a big damn AFI fan. Now I'm a quiet, slightly embarassed AFI fan. Also, Davey got really old, you know? It's scary. I can see myself staring, ashen-faced, at a newpaper in 40 years, going "What? He died? He's not 26 forever?". Loving Davey, or any other teenage hearthrob, means facing one's own mortality.
AFI- End Transmission. If you download only one of these songs, let it be this one. I really like this song, but I wish it had a slightly different sound. It's a 'spending the apocalypse with the one you love, shooting zombies to pass the time' song, but there's something off about it. If I had a terminal illness, I would use my Make A Wish Foundation wish to get VNV Nation to remix this song. Then I would die happily.
Lastly, as a closing act, we have Cocteau Twins. Guaranteed to make everyone in earshot say "What in the world are you listening to?". It sounds like Claire Voyant drowning in a bubble bath.
Blind Deaf Dumb- http://www.sendspace.com/file/deoc2
My Lover Paramour- http://www.sendspace.com/file/deq0l
I'm watching seasons 4 and 5 of Buffy, because being alone all day (hi, Erik!) makes me miss my hip and attractive fictional friends. I've discovered that watching BTVS is bad for my fashion sense. I always end up going, "Do I have any oversized, furry-looking sweaters? I don't think I do. What a pity. And where are my floor-length denim skirts? My ankles feel so naked."
Also, I really, really want a pair of leather pants. I know, I'm no 90 pound Sarah Michelle Gellar and I would look like a half-ton of fail in anything more skin-tight than jeans, but the craving is there. I want leather pants and a sequin top, and one of those dumb chokers with the big flowers on the side.
Edited to add:
Faith thinks I should own leather pants, but I question her credibility.
I've been reading about the Vaganova Method, because I had nothing better to do today, since the DMV was closed. I've been watching Russian ballet academy videos on youtube, and it's blowing my mind. Six year olds en pointe, OMGWTFHDU.
But basically, I wanted you to see the little girl I want to steal. Lada Sartakova: she's seven, and I'm going to buy her a pony and feed her ice cream every day.
Also, have some pre-teen ballerinas and a puppy.
Dangit, I wish I had an extra .11 cents to spare this week, or I would jump on this offer. I'm very sure MIA is a cute cat.
Okay, so Erik has forbidden me from watching the sixth season of Buffy without him. This is harsh, because we have different free-time-zones, and I've been getting accustomed to my morningly 45 minutes of pre-work or school Buffytiems. I am ardently against Aerin reading any fanfic on the subject, mostly because my pairing has already come to pass, and canon slashfic is really no fun at all. I mean, unless there's bondage. That could be cool. And blood-drinking could be involved. Ohhh, yes. But no. No more fandoms. I already have too many.
I am making this promise to you, people who read my LiveJournal: BTVS will not be the new Voyager of my journal. I won't bombard you with fanvids and gushing recaps of a show that was popular when I was still wearing leggings and and listening to the Spice Girls. This is the first and last time I even ever mention it. There. All done.
Wait, one more thing: