So more on the author of the previous linked article, LaShaun Williams. LaShaun Williams is a sexist, racist asshole.
This piece is so blatantly sexist that I was honestly surprised anyone dared publish it. I suspect that the only reason she gets away with saying these things is because she is (I'm fairly sure) a black woman. I feel awkward saying that, but she's really offensive. That whole piece is about how women are responsible for how men treat them. It's about how women control how they are perceived and she writes the same tired old stale moronic sexist fucking bullshit about how women who wear revealing clothing seem like sluts and are [naturally] treated as such. This makes me so very angry.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Have a Nice Slab of Racism
http://madamenoire.com/22660/8-reasons-to-date-a-white-man-30188/
This is such an idiotic piece of crap. I kind of want to read more things that this woman writes just so I can continue to be baffled by them.
This is such an idiotic piece of crap. I kind of want to read more things that this woman writes just so I can continue to be baffled by them.
Friday, June 24, 2011
This Is A Bit of A New Thing: Read The Warning
Warning: Until now, almost all of my posts have been about gender/race. This one is about religion. I'm a fairly hardcore atheist, and I feel it's time I start including that here. This video throws about some pretty "offensive" language and imagery, but there's a point to this. This is no random vulgarity... it actually makes a statement. Listen to the lyrics before dismissing it.
P.S. I'm going to post about religion again, and I probably won't have a nice fuzzy disclaimer next time. If you read this blog and it doesn't challenge you in some way, then I don't think I'm doing my job. LEARN FROM YOUR DISCOMFORT.
P.P.S Sorry for the long delay before the new post. Camp takes over my life.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
ESOL Picnic
My mother teaches ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) at a local high school in my hometown. The ESOL department had its annual picnic on Thursday, and I agreed to help her out in managing it. I got to meet all of my mother's students and eat great food from many different countries, so it was an excellent time. I enjoyed myself thoroughly!
Of course, I wouldn't be true to myself if my brain wasn't constantly analyzing everything. I saw several things, but I want to point out the most significant:
I noticed that the students were very touchy feely with each other, and it seemed harmless at first glance. But as I looked more closely, I noticed that (unsurprisingly) the physical contact was always instigated by boys and not always appreciated by girls. This observation started to really bother me, for reasons that should be obvious. I was bothered enough that I intervened once (I tried giving some friendly advice about women), although all it earned me was a few tossed off homophobic remarks... I think I managed to annoy the boy, though, so that was a plus.
But by no means was that it. I noticed that a few of the girls decided they didn't feel like being objects for the teenage boys' sexual pleasure and weren't shy about showing it. They pushed the guys away, smacked them, and even elbowed them. They let loose whenever they needed to.
Now, I am of two minds about this. On the one hand, I hate that such action is necessary. On the other, I'm glad it was happening. Not gonna lie, it made me giggle several times to see the boys' cringes of pain... especially after repeated attempts to engage in sexual harassment. Later, I told my mom about it and how happy it made me. She said, "I taught them that! I told them that they don't have to do what boys want, and if the boys try to take advantage they can tell them no. I taught them to use force to say no if necessary. Especially the elbows... They're sharp."
I love my mother.
EDIT: I noticed that the writing in this entry was worse than usual. I wrote it quickly and felt bad about it afterwards. So I fixed it. It has now been refurbished to comply with my meticulously maintained standard of mediocrity. I do hope you can stand to rest your eyeballs upon it now.
Of course, I wouldn't be true to myself if my brain wasn't constantly analyzing everything. I saw several things, but I want to point out the most significant:
I noticed that the students were very touchy feely with each other, and it seemed harmless at first glance. But as I looked more closely, I noticed that (unsurprisingly) the physical contact was always instigated by boys and not always appreciated by girls. This observation started to really bother me, for reasons that should be obvious. I was bothered enough that I intervened once (I tried giving some friendly advice about women), although all it earned me was a few tossed off homophobic remarks... I think I managed to annoy the boy, though, so that was a plus.
But by no means was that it. I noticed that a few of the girls decided they didn't feel like being objects for the teenage boys' sexual pleasure and weren't shy about showing it. They pushed the guys away, smacked them, and even elbowed them. They let loose whenever they needed to.
Now, I am of two minds about this. On the one hand, I hate that such action is necessary. On the other, I'm glad it was happening. Not gonna lie, it made me giggle several times to see the boys' cringes of pain... especially after repeated attempts to engage in sexual harassment. Later, I told my mom about it and how happy it made me. She said, "I taught them that! I told them that they don't have to do what boys want, and if the boys try to take advantage they can tell them no. I taught them to use force to say no if necessary. Especially the elbows... They're sharp."
I love my mother.
EDIT: I noticed that the writing in this entry was worse than usual. I wrote it quickly and felt bad about it afterwards. So I fixed it. It has now been refurbished to comply with my meticulously maintained standard of mediocrity. I do hope you can stand to rest your eyeballs upon it now.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
So I'm trying this thing where not every blog post is a freaking dissertation in length
If you can't read this, click on it for a fullscreen version.
Someone posted this on reddit with the text: "Now I understand the gender gap".
For reasons you can probably imagine, this pissed me off.
It's more or less a declaration of ignorance. Because all guys want to have sex all the time (and in the bathroom) and no women ever want to. Also, societal messages to women about what their sexuality should be don't exist and women are just stupid for not wanting to have sex with me, the author of this comic.
What an asshole.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Who I Am
I haven't been on the internet much for the past week or so, so that's why I stopped updating frequently. Not that it really matters for my readership of two or three people, but anyway.
This post is going to get slightly more personal than the last few, but I have learned the power of the presence of the author's voice. I'm rather passionate about this issue and it's a large part of my life, so I decided that I simply had to write about it.
I have felt for a long time that music always makes me feel better. If you've been around me when I'm extraordinarily upset, one defense mechanism is to go lay on my bed and listen to music alone. I've used this strategy many a time. Even when I'm just feeling a bit down, listening to certain music almost inevitably makes me feel better. But there's more to it than a simple mood change. While music can often affect my emotions, I feel like there's more going on when I listen in. It's not easy to explain, but when I listen to music I sometimes feel more like myself than I do at other times. Honestly, it feels like a liberation. The question is, from what?
I've thought a lot about this, and many things have become gradually more clear to me over the last year or so. Basically, I've grown up being told I have to do certain activities, like certain things, think in certain ways. Luckily, I have been spared the cruel punishment of growing up being taught such things by my parents, but none can escape the influence of other sources such as peers and the media. Why are these messages being sent? Well, I can think of two reasons I happen to know a good deal about: race and gender.
I've grown up with mostly white friends. I cannot count the number of times someone has told me that I don't "act black". This always struck me as inconsequential, as I never self-identified as black. I never had much of a concept of race growing up apart from these somewhat awkward exchanges, although I understood ethnicity. My dad was from Guinea (West African country for those who do not know) and my mom was from here and that was that. Skin color difference explained. But I didn't really think about race. I never understood why my friends expected me to act "black". My family never did and neither did my friends. But for some unexplained reason, I didn't fit. I wasn't really black but I also wasn't white. Even though I didn't really understand it, there was no place for me racially.
The gender aspect of this problem was much more pervasive in my life, and continues to plague me to this very day. It started early with my love of reading. As a boy, I was supposed to love sports and be very active and shit like that. But I preferred reading by myself. As an older child and into adolescence, this became a problem for me. In the social pecking order, such activities earned me the convenient label of nerd. Other things also impacted my place in the social sphere of growing up. I was never particularly competitive (except for during foosball, perhaps) or assertive. I learned how to be funny. While I loved attention, I never felt comfortable being a leader. I really liked being nice to other people. While many of these traits are definitely MY qualities, you'll notice that they don't really intersect with the masculine ideal. While many people might say that these are things they like about me, not all of them (in fact, a minority of them) are what men are supposed to be like. Until relatively recently, and with notable exceptions, this has led to me having an abundance of friends but a definite lack of respect from other people. I have had the distinct feeling that a lot of people I knew didn't dislike me, but didn't really think all that much of me.
I spoke of notable exceptions, and I want to identify two of them in particular: Creative Kids Camp (a summer drama camp I attended while younger and work at now) and Longsdorff (the substance-free dorm at my college). I could go on at length about either, but the reason I value them both so highly is that in both places, I felt that people accepted me for who I was. I could be myself, in all my nerdy, nonmasculine, weird, dramatic glory. Nobody made fun of me for it. Nobody thought any less of me for enjoying any god-damn thing I wanted to. And that, I have come to learn, is rare.
Now, back to the music. Yesterday I had a rather shitty afternoon/evening but hadn't been able to fully articulate why. Although I woke up feeling better, something was building within me as an answer this question. It came to a head in an epiphany I had while cleaning the bathroom and listening to "Will I" from Rent. I'd come close to such a realization in the past, but it never came together so completely before. I'd felt the same emotions before as well, but rarely with the same clarity. As with other Rent songs, I sang along with the words. The song didn't speak directly to my predicament, but the raw emotion behind the song was powerfully similar. There was a definite feeling of being trapped, and a desperate wish for compassion. I have feelings like that every day when I have to conceal parts of who I am to fit in with other people and conform. I don't like doing it, but I often get the feeling that I have to anyway. As I sang along, the music took on a new meaning for me. I sang my unhappiness at the feelings I have to endure every day but I also sang my defiance. The action itself wasn't masculine but I didn't care because I like Rent and that is part of who I am and I don't care if people don't like it and I'm going to do it anyway. I sang my joy at breaking free, even temporarily, from the stranglehold I'd been placed in. I felt exhilarated and happy and above all else liberated.
That is why listening to music makes me feel more like myself and that is why I don't fucking like gender roles. Now wouldn't it be nice if I could also feel that much like myself outside of a select group of friends and not only while listening to music? That's the world I want to live in.
This post is going to get slightly more personal than the last few, but I have learned the power of the presence of the author's voice. I'm rather passionate about this issue and it's a large part of my life, so I decided that I simply had to write about it.
I have felt for a long time that music always makes me feel better. If you've been around me when I'm extraordinarily upset, one defense mechanism is to go lay on my bed and listen to music alone. I've used this strategy many a time. Even when I'm just feeling a bit down, listening to certain music almost inevitably makes me feel better. But there's more to it than a simple mood change. While music can often affect my emotions, I feel like there's more going on when I listen in. It's not easy to explain, but when I listen to music I sometimes feel more like myself than I do at other times. Honestly, it feels like a liberation. The question is, from what?
I've thought a lot about this, and many things have become gradually more clear to me over the last year or so. Basically, I've grown up being told I have to do certain activities, like certain things, think in certain ways. Luckily, I have been spared the cruel punishment of growing up being taught such things by my parents, but none can escape the influence of other sources such as peers and the media. Why are these messages being sent? Well, I can think of two reasons I happen to know a good deal about: race and gender.
I've grown up with mostly white friends. I cannot count the number of times someone has told me that I don't "act black". This always struck me as inconsequential, as I never self-identified as black. I never had much of a concept of race growing up apart from these somewhat awkward exchanges, although I understood ethnicity. My dad was from Guinea (West African country for those who do not know) and my mom was from here and that was that. Skin color difference explained. But I didn't really think about race. I never understood why my friends expected me to act "black". My family never did and neither did my friends. But for some unexplained reason, I didn't fit. I wasn't really black but I also wasn't white. Even though I didn't really understand it, there was no place for me racially.
The gender aspect of this problem was much more pervasive in my life, and continues to plague me to this very day. It started early with my love of reading. As a boy, I was supposed to love sports and be very active and shit like that. But I preferred reading by myself. As an older child and into adolescence, this became a problem for me. In the social pecking order, such activities earned me the convenient label of nerd. Other things also impacted my place in the social sphere of growing up. I was never particularly competitive (except for during foosball, perhaps) or assertive. I learned how to be funny. While I loved attention, I never felt comfortable being a leader. I really liked being nice to other people. While many of these traits are definitely MY qualities, you'll notice that they don't really intersect with the masculine ideal. While many people might say that these are things they like about me, not all of them (in fact, a minority of them) are what men are supposed to be like. Until relatively recently, and with notable exceptions, this has led to me having an abundance of friends but a definite lack of respect from other people. I have had the distinct feeling that a lot of people I knew didn't dislike me, but didn't really think all that much of me.
I spoke of notable exceptions, and I want to identify two of them in particular: Creative Kids Camp (a summer drama camp I attended while younger and work at now) and Longsdorff (the substance-free dorm at my college). I could go on at length about either, but the reason I value them both so highly is that in both places, I felt that people accepted me for who I was. I could be myself, in all my nerdy, nonmasculine, weird, dramatic glory. Nobody made fun of me for it. Nobody thought any less of me for enjoying any god-damn thing I wanted to. And that, I have come to learn, is rare.
Now, back to the music. Yesterday I had a rather shitty afternoon/evening but hadn't been able to fully articulate why. Although I woke up feeling better, something was building within me as an answer this question. It came to a head in an epiphany I had while cleaning the bathroom and listening to "Will I" from Rent. I'd come close to such a realization in the past, but it never came together so completely before. I'd felt the same emotions before as well, but rarely with the same clarity. As with other Rent songs, I sang along with the words. The song didn't speak directly to my predicament, but the raw emotion behind the song was powerfully similar. There was a definite feeling of being trapped, and a desperate wish for compassion. I have feelings like that every day when I have to conceal parts of who I am to fit in with other people and conform. I don't like doing it, but I often get the feeling that I have to anyway. As I sang along, the music took on a new meaning for me. I sang my unhappiness at the feelings I have to endure every day but I also sang my defiance. The action itself wasn't masculine but I didn't care because I like Rent and that is part of who I am and I don't care if people don't like it and I'm going to do it anyway. I sang my joy at breaking free, even temporarily, from the stranglehold I'd been placed in. I felt exhilarated and happy and above all else liberated.
That is why listening to music makes me feel more like myself and that is why I don't fucking like gender roles. Now wouldn't it be nice if I could also feel that much like myself outside of a select group of friends and not only while listening to music? That's the world I want to live in.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Why I won't be watching HIMYM anymore
So, my most recent semester in college yielded some changes for me. The most obvious of these changes is that I have started analyzing every bit of media I consume for messages about marginalized groups. It's actually quite infuriating because I can't turn it off and I've found myself rejecting certain music or television because of messages I find offensive. Even if I try to ignore those things, they still really bother me. Luckily, now I have a blog where I get to vent about it!
Anyway, let's get more specific: How I Met Your Mother. I think this show is hilarious. I've been trying to catch up to the current season of it because I think it's awesome and legendary. Now, I've been dimly aware for a little while that HIMYM is what I would call an extremely white show. In this particular case, that means that all of the main characters are white. But, I figured, this is by no means uncommon so it didn't really bother me. Their portrayal of one of the only black minor characters, Barney's brother, didn't seem too bad. So I was able to ignore the slight annoyance in the back of my mind.
But then I saw the episode where Robin's first boyfriend comes to town and we learn about "Revertigo". Here's a recap of the part of the show I found offensive:
Revertigo is when you’re around someone from your past and you revert back to how you used to act back when you knew that person. Ted and Marshall use Lily as an example. When Lily’s around her high school friend Michelle, she suffers from revertigo. Marshall mentions Michelle to Lily and gets her to set up a hang-out date so they can demonstrate the behavior. When Lily and Michelle are together, they both act all gangsta, saying things like “Aw girl, you gotta get yo drink on up in hurr!” and “I’ma get me my champagne and grape soda awn.” When separated, both Michelle and Lily revert back to speaking normally.
In case you haven't guessed it, Michelle is black. This pissed me the fuck off. Really, though, what made me the most angry was that I really enjoy this show. And now I know if I watch it, I'm just going to see more shit like that. The fact that such stereotyping was there once put me off enough that I didn't finish the episode. Thus ends my time of watching How I Met Your Mother. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.
Anyway, let's get more specific: How I Met Your Mother. I think this show is hilarious. I've been trying to catch up to the current season of it because I think it's awesome and legendary. Now, I've been dimly aware for a little while that HIMYM is what I would call an extremely white show. In this particular case, that means that all of the main characters are white. But, I figured, this is by no means uncommon so it didn't really bother me. Their portrayal of one of the only black minor characters, Barney's brother, didn't seem too bad. So I was able to ignore the slight annoyance in the back of my mind.
But then I saw the episode where Robin's first boyfriend comes to town and we learn about "Revertigo". Here's a recap of the part of the show I found offensive:
Revertigo is when you’re around someone from your past and you revert back to how you used to act back when you knew that person. Ted and Marshall use Lily as an example. When Lily’s around her high school friend Michelle, she suffers from revertigo. Marshall mentions Michelle to Lily and gets her to set up a hang-out date so they can demonstrate the behavior. When Lily and Michelle are together, they both act all gangsta, saying things like “Aw girl, you gotta get yo drink on up in hurr!” and “I’ma get me my champagne and grape soda awn.” When separated, both Michelle and Lily revert back to speaking normally.
In case you haven't guessed it, Michelle is black. This pissed me the fuck off. Really, though, what made me the most angry was that I really enjoy this show. And now I know if I watch it, I'm just going to see more shit like that. The fact that such stereotyping was there once put me off enough that I didn't finish the episode. Thus ends my time of watching How I Met Your Mother. Whoop-de-fucking-doo.
KissCam what the Eff is Wrong With You?
So, I recently attended an Orioles game with a few of my friends, right? I had a blast with them and really enjoyed the hangout time and the game (and the beer, too).
Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with baseball games, at several points during the game the big screen on the scoreboard shows camera shots of the crowd. One of these times, the screen shows what it calls the Kiss Cam. The camera scans the crowd and shows us a shot of a couple who are then expected to kiss. The fans enjoy seeing the realizations of people as they figure out that they are on the big screen, and the whole crowd cheers when they kiss. Such a practice is supposed to represent a fun thing that they do for everyone's enjoyment. I enjoyed it and cheered along with the rest, at first.
But something started to bother me about the couples they showed. To the best of my memory, every single one of the couples shown was white and heterosexual. Before you reach for your indignant hat, let me explain why I have a problem with this.
First of all, why were all of the couples white? You can blather on about the demographics of the crowd all you want, but you cannot tell me that no Black or Latino or Asian American or any other racial minorities attended the game. And if there are people of any race at a baseball game, there will be couples. Why only show white couples? Just as importantly, why not show interracial couples? It would be silly to argue that there were no interracial couples in the crowd. Racially mixed couples are not a porn fetish. They exist in the real world. Why were they not represented here? And, please, don't start saying that all of the couples just happened to be white. The people operating the cameras made deliberate choices in deciding who to show on the screen.
Secondly, why were all of the pairings one man and one woman? This one is slightly trickier. Queer couples exist too and they deserve representation just as much as heterosexual couples do. Why were they not shown? Now, you may be saying something along the lines of, "But how are they supposed to know who's a couple and who isn't unless it's a man and a woman?" My response to that would be that they have no guarantee. But if you think about it, they never know for sure if they are showing a couple. They use their best guess. It is no different for two men, or two women, or someone who is genderqueer with a trans man. They have no way of knowing. They have to go with assumptions. And if you always pick heterosexual couples and never queer couples, it means something. It means that you assume heterosexuality.
Of course, I'm sure the people running the cameras also think about it from the other direction as well. Think about the consequences of they are wrong. With a man and a woman, the two can just laugh it off if the camerapeople are incorrect and maybe they'll kiss anyway, in the spirit of the thing. But I'd bet my britches (if I had any) that any two men shown on the camera who were heterosexual would feel insulted. It would take a rare man (by which I mean a non-homophobic "straight" man, of which there are few) to not be put off by such a display. That's just the reality of our society, disappointing as it is. I'd bet that two men mistaken for a couple would almost NEVER kiss. The crowd would be weirded out by this as well.
But even if the people in charge were considering these angles as carefully as I have, their failure to challenge anyone's thinking and their compliance with racist and heterosexist biases among their customers means that they participated in what is known as an institutionalization of heterosexuality.
Finally, I want to talk about the whole premise of the thing. It would not surprise me to hear that some people don't particularly want to be on the Kiss Cam. The idea of the Kiss Cam is that people perform a sexual/romantic act for everybody else. This means that their sexuality becomes a performance for everybody else. Now that I think about it, in my mind, I wouldn't particularly want my relationship with somebody else to become lowered some form of entertainment for other people. My sexuality is my concern, not the concern of everyone in the stadium. And especially if I were, say, a lesbian for example, I would NOT want a sexual act of mine to become the domain of all of the people watching. The image of two women making out has been so commercialized and hypersexualized in the media that I honestly wouldn't like how all of the people would be looking at me before, during, and afterwards. My point here is that I don't think sexuality should be a performance for everyone to observe and judge. Relationships are supposed to mean more than that.
I hope that I've made you think about this a little more deeply, because now that I am... I think the Kiss Cam idea is totally fucked up.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Now, a post with actual Content™
I'm going to start off this blog with an excellent link. Here it is!
http://www.stopstreetharassment.org/
This website is dedicated to, wait for it... stopping street harassment. It offers information to educate yourself with, resources for combating different types of behavior, and ideas about how to defeat street harassment once and for all.
What is this street harassment thing? The website discusses that thusly:
Overview: Street harassment is any action or comment between strangers in public places that is disrespectful, unwelcome, threatening and/or harassing and is motivated by gender. In countries like India and Bangladesh, it’s termed “eve teasing,” and in countries like Egypt, it’s called “public sexual harassment.” Street harassment is a human rights issue because it limits women’s ability to be in public as often or as comfortably as most men.
http://www.stopstreetharassment.org/
This website is dedicated to, wait for it... stopping street harassment. It offers information to educate yourself with, resources for combating different types of behavior, and ideas about how to defeat street harassment once and for all.
What is this street harassment thing? The website discusses that thusly:
Overview: Street harassment is any action or comment between strangers in public places that is disrespectful, unwelcome, threatening and/or harassing and is motivated by gender. In countries like India and Bangladesh, it’s termed “eve teasing,” and in countries like Egypt, it’s called “public sexual harassment.” Street harassment is a human rights issue because it limits women’s ability to be in public as often or as comfortably as most men.
Types: It ranges from leers, whistles, honks, kissing noises, and non-sexually explicit evaluative comments, to more insulting and threatening behavior like vulgar gestures, sexually charged comments, flashing, and stalking, to illegal actions like public masturbation, sexual touching, assault, and murder.
Gender-based street harassment can intersect with racism, homophobia and transphobia, classism, and/or ableism (as explored in Chapter 3 of the Stop Street Harassment book) to create multi-layered harassment.
Street harassment is a huge problem, specifically because people don't see it as such. It has happened to my friends and I have friends that have done it. But not until I visited this site did I realize how widespread it is and how I had been complicit in its happening. Let me show you with an example:
I was standing on a sidewalk with a female friend of mine, and we were discussing what so-and-so did with such-and-such the previous weekend, or something. A truck drives by, and a man leans out of the window and shouts "GIT R DUN" while his buddy laughs. My friend is visibly disturbed by this, and I urge her to ignore it. She looks rather upset as the truck stops at a nearby red light and the men inside continue to laugh. I give them no attention whatsoever, feeling that in such situations the best solution is to pretend nothing is happening. Eventually, the truck drives away. My friend got over this event quickly (at least to my knowledge, which is admittedly limited) but I still remember the look on her face to this day.
What I did was wrong. Let me repeat that, just so we are all clear. I was wrong. In ignoring those men, we allowed them to think what they were doing was okay, an amusing annoyance to us at worst. While I was able to shake off the negative effects of such an experience with ease (all credit sarcastically given to male privilege), I wasn't the one being objectified in this scenario. I was complicit in the oppression of my friend when I encouraged her to remain silent and not to speak out against such an attack on her person. I apologize for that sincerely and I would act differently now. That link I posted up there gave me one tool I shall certainly take advantage of in the future: when you hear street harassment you should respond with a simple statement such as, "Stop harassing women." Another good one is, "Show some respect."
I urge you to go to this website and look around. Chances are, you'll learn something.
FIRST
Okay. This is my blog that I made primarily for me. I've been spending a lot of time with ideas bouncing around in my head recently and I figured that I might as well start writing them down to reexamine later. Goodness knows I haven't got the time or desire to go remembering them or some nonsense like that.
Also, I figure this is a good way to stop clogging up people's news feeds with my incessant links on facebook.
Anyway, if you are reading this and are not me, it means I broke down and told someone about this. You're lucky. But don't get comfortable! This is not a happy place. This is a place of challenged thinking and frustration and stuff. Terrible place to get comfortable.
Enjoy!
Also, I figure this is a good way to stop clogging up people's news feeds with my incessant links on facebook.
Anyway, if you are reading this and are not me, it means I broke down and told someone about this. You're lucky. But don't get comfortable! This is not a happy place. This is a place of challenged thinking and frustration and stuff. Terrible place to get comfortable.
Enjoy!
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