Grandma H passed away last night. She went peacefully, in her sleep, with her sons by her side. I’m going back to PA to be with my dad for a few days, see if I can help out at all. There won’t be a real funeral or memorial until spring, because she wanted to be put to rest in Ithaca, and obviously that is not happening in the wake of October’s craziest storm in living memory. I really appreciate the kind words and support you’ve offered me. Really, thank you.
Men’s Fitness just ran an article about some of the cosplay at NYCC, focusing on the larger members of the community who chose to partake. Which, if you ask me, IS NOT OKAY. At all. The article is snarky, insulting, and just plain rude. Jordan Burchette, you should be ashamed of yourself. NYCC is a place where everyone can go, and feel like they’re part of something wonderful. I honestly never feel better about myself than when I go home from con. But for you to come in here and take these first of all, not even remotely attempting to be flattering pictures and then to write this inflammatory article is just rude. NYCC is a SAFE SPACE. And if people choose to cosplay, they should be APPLAUDED for their efforts and bravery. It takes a LOT to go out there in skin-tight spandex, especially if you have body-image issues (One of the earlier volumes of X-Factor, actually, approaches this topic with Polaris, who reveals to her therapist that she struggles with body-image issues). And even if you don’t, it still takes guts.
You, Jordan Burchette, have no right to come out here and insult the attendants of comiccon and their desire to dress up, no matter what their body shape is. You should be ashamed of yourself. Further more, your article was rude and unprofessional. You have no idea the harm you could have just caused. So thank you, Mr. Burchette, for coming in to a place I love and hold dearly and insulting the people that populate it. Thank you for turning a safe place into a place of hate. I really hope you’re proud of yourself.
Well said. I am a proud member of the comics community as well as the body-positivity movement. This kind of talk is NEVER acceptable, especially from a supposed journalist. Like Shea said so eloquently, cons are a safe space. Play nice or don’t show up. But beyond that, why do we have to work so hard to carve out safe spaces? Another person’s body is never your business. It is not there for your speculation, criticism, humor, desire, or evaluation. Another person’s body is not an object, it is a part of the person, and you should be treating everyone with a basic level of respect, whether to their faces or behind their backs.
I’m not sure what to think about the fact that you have to remove things from high schoolers’ mouths. Interesting.
Haha, ok, with the homework it was more of a “throw that in the trash right now,” and with the thumbtacks it was “spit it into this tissue.” This is the same kid as the last bullet point; he’ll be serving an in-school suspension on Monday.
Today was day two of waking up at 5 am to go work as a substitute teacher. Lots of fun, although the time and the students have certainly been… colorful. I’m covering at a small school for a combination of seventh grade social studies and junior/senior social studies, history, and math classes. The seventh graders are INSANE (especially since there is a dance tonight… oh, brother) but they at least settle down and listen eventually. The high schoolers? Forget about it. Most of them are bigger than me anyway, and they’ve all learned how to smell a noob. For example, during my final class today (high school algebra) I had to confiscate the following:
- a cell phone
- a homework assignment that had been crumpled and chewed upon (from the mouth of a student)
- two thumbtacks (from the mouth of the same student about half an hour later)
- two homework assignments that had been made into projectiles
- a ball of tape that had been both chewed and made into a projectile
- an electric pencil sharpener that was about to be made into a projectile
- a homework assignment where the answers were filled in with drawings of penises.
Compared to that, everything else I did these two days was easy. And yesterday, I got a laugh overhearing one of them say “Well, at least the sub’s hot.” Today, I overheard one of his friends tell him “I guess she’s ok-looking, but she’s a bitch!” C’s mom, the principal, has confirmed for me that that’s the best praise I can get as a sub. I’ll take it!
5-year high school reunion.
I love that my doctor’s office was able to see me within half an hour of my call. Love. Benefits of semirural living. Anyway, she said my cough was probably triggered by something mechanical (as opposed to bacterial or viral) and gave me a recommendation for OTC cough syrup, as well as a back-up prescription for stronger cough syrup if this stuff doesn’t help by tomorrow evening. So, I raise my dextromethorphan in a toast to good doctors with good sense.
In other news, soup and tea.
Debating whether this is something for a doctor or just soup. Since last night I’ve been having random coughing fits that are so hardcore they make me throw up (or nearly that.) As a consequence, I’m not going to spend seven hours touching other people’s food tonight. (Which sucks, because I could use the money.)
You are not your bra-size, nor are you the width of your waist, nor are you the slenderness of your calves. You are not your hair color, your skin color, nor are you a shade of lipstick. Your shoe-size is of no consequence. You are not defined by the amount of attention you get from males, females, or any combination thereof. You are not the number of sit-ups you can do, nor are you the number of calories in a day. You are not your mustache. You are not the hair on your legs. You are not a little red dress.
You are no amalgam of these things.
You are the content of your character. You are the ambitions that drive you. You are the goals that you set. You are the things that you laugh at and the words that you say. You are the thoughts you think and the things you wonder. You are beautiful and desirable not for the clique you attend, but for the spark of life within you that compels you to make your life a full and meaningful one. You are beautiful not for the shape of the vessel, but for the volume of the soul it carries.” —
I seriously need this painted on my fridge. And my locker, for when I get cravings for fried crap at work.
Turmeric cheese sauce
In a small pot, gently heat 2 cups of milk. In another pot, make a roux with 2 tablespoons of butter and 2 tablespoons of flour, whisking until fully incorporated. Ladle the milk over the roux, whisking until uniform each time. Turn heat to low and whisk in 1/2 teaspoon turmeric, 1/2 teaspoon cumin powder, and 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander seeds.
I use this as a sauce for my butternut-kale casserole: 1 roasted butternut squash, cubed, 1 large head of kale, cut into bite-sized pieces, and 2 cups of sharp cheddar cheese. I don’t know exactly how bad for you this is, but it’s not a health food, so eat it sparingly; this recipe makes plenty to share.
So far I have
- Baked and prepared a spaghetti squash for dinner
- Made two dishes of butternut-kale casserole (with my turmeric-cheddar sauce) One is going in the freezer.
- Downloaded a couch to 5K app, yet studiously avoided running.
And yet I’m looking at the clock, wondering where my morning went. I guess I’ll be skipping knitting group.
I try not to let it out too much in my blog, but that’s pretty typical of my mom. Most of my life has been defined by her emotional abuse, but I’m trying to get past that. Moving out helped a lot with that.