None Of This Nonsense, Please

A snippet of a story

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 04:28:15 GMT

...inspired by the dog who woke me up entirely too early this morning.

...

It isn't easy being a canine superhero. On the one paw, I can run faster than a speeding automobile. However, I am sworn to use my powers in secret and only for the greater good, and so I cannot make use of my super-speed to chase the shiny cars that whizz tauntingly down our street at all hours. I concede that's probably for the best-- they're fun to chase, but I don't know what I'd do with one if I caught it.

I can leap tall fences in a single bound -- an invaluable skill for a Dog of Destiny-- but I still can't manage doorknobs. This leads, as you may imagine, to some embarrassing situations. Since my humans fail to understand me when I bark "You must let me out right now! It is a matter vitally important to the future of all dog-kind!" I am reduced to the humiliating subterfuge of pretending that I have a weak bladder and that their carpets will suffer a soggy fate if I am not immediately allowed access to the yard. Hardly the kind of story one wants to tell one's puppies. And the wasted time can come at a high cost.

Last night, for instance, in the wee hours of pre-dawn gloom, Dexter, a sheepdog in my district, sent up the chilling howl that means "I'm in over my head here and paddling for all I'm worth. Help! Help! And quickly!" I roused my groggy human with a petulant whine (like all her kind, she slept through the howling without twitching an eyelash), and vanished from the yard as soon as she turned her back. In the near-darkness, I could make full use of my speed, and it took me barely five minutes to reach Dexter's farm some twelve miles away. I ran flat-out, for his howl was one of panic and desperation. Every normal dog within hearing distance must have felt their fur stand on end, and as I neared the farm I heard the approaching bark of Sandy, a German Shepard of my acquaintance, and a fine bitch whose skills, while not supernaturally enhanced like my own, were impressive enough for any dog.

...

Ok, so I don't really have a storyline to follow this up with, sadly enough. I suppose it might be a vague sort of murder-mystery. I wonder how our doggy hero got his powers-- a bite from a radioactive tick or flea, perhaps?

Anyway, it was fun.

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 23:24:03 GMT

PMS sucks. I've spent all day feeling like I'm on the verge of a panic attack for absolutely no reason. All I want to do is curl up into a tiny ball under the bed and suck my thumb. I've compromised by spending most of the day curled up into a tiny ball on the couch reading instead. Yay me.

some literature I've read of late

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 06:43:13 GMT

{1222-1227}

*** 1222) "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen

No, I've never read this-- or any Austen book-- before now. Amazing, isn't it? I enjoyed it quite a lot-- the short chapters offset the period language and made it easier to read than I expected. I love Austen's dry, situational sense of humor, and I was thoroughly swept away by the main plot once I got into it, which did take me a little while. I don't know that it will become one of those favorites that I read over and over, but I'm definitely happy to have read it once.

Quotes:

Charlotte: "' Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation...' " 24 Not sure if I agree entirely, but it's a very interesting point to consider!

Darcy: " 'The power of doing any thing with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance.' " 49 Austen actually has a real knack for being snarky, come to think of it.

of Elizabeth: "It was not in her nature, however, to increase her vexations by dwelling on them. She was confident of having performed her duty; and to fret over unavoidable evils, or augment them by anxiety, was no part of her disposition." 227 I envy her that! And they totally got her wrong in the movie with Kiera Knightly (although I liked the movie all the same, romantic piece of drivel that it was. We watched it and read the book for book club last month. I really was annoyed at the movie for leaving out some major plot-points, though).

of Mr. Bennet "...where other powers of entertainment are wanting, the true philosopher will derive benefit from such as are given." 231 What a marvelous description!

*** 1223) "Cannery Row" by John Steinbeck

Enjoyable, although verging on the overly simple at times. Unexpectedly funny in places, although I wouldn't describe it as a humorous work on the whole, as many people do. A wonderfully astute sketch, a pie-slice of life, a celebration of normalcy and oddity... all the stuff I tend to find boring in standard "literature," but written sparely and lightly enough that it isn't boring.

"...there are two possible reactions to social ostracism-- either a man emerges determined to be better, purer, and kindlier or he goes bad, challenges the world, and does even worse things. This last is by far the commonest reaction to stigma." 132

" 'It has always seemed strange to me,' said Doc, 'The things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.' " 135

**** 1224) "Water for Elephants" by Sara Gruen

Marvelous-- everything a novel should be. A tall tale, and a wonderful one. A grouchy old man in a nursing home recalls his days with the circus, and as he finds his power over his own mind and body slipping away from him, he is reminded of the experiences that make life worth living. Adventure, intrigue, and wonder abound.

*** 1225) "War of Worlds" by H. G. Wells (on audio)

Wells is an excellent storyteller, and even though I already knew the basic plot of this one, I followed it with no less eagerness for that. It was amazing being reminded throughout how different the world was a mere hundred years ago-- no mass media, no means of communicating over a distance, no rapid transit of any kind. Nothing electric, for crying out loud. How did they manage? It's amazing to see how even such little questions as food storage were handled so differently then. I found it interesting to speculate, too, how science fiction has changed over the years-- I mean, in every era, we imagine, for example, aliens coming to earth with technology we've never seen, but the way in which we envision that futuristic technology depends so much on our own stage of development. Wells' Martians wouldn't even start to be a threat today, and "Independence Day" would make no sense at all in his time.

**** 1226) "Bagombo Snuffbox: Uncollected Stories" by Kurt Vonnegut

Well, if these are the stories that didn't make it into the original collection, I'd better go read those ASAP, because these were amazing. Vonnegut seems a little less cynical, a little more lighthearted and uplifting, in his short fiction. I expected the reverse. He has fun playing with little "what if" scenarios, but realistic and un.

And I'm very glad I finally got a good look at the title. I've been thinking of this book as "Bombago Snuffbox" for years. I really can be rather lysdexic at times. Oh wait, crud, that's the actual name of the place, too? I had that wrong as well. Oy, what am I going to do with me?

*** 1227) "Timequake" by Kurt Vonnegut

Interesting, but not my favorite of his books by any means. Took me a bit to get into this one. Also, very baffling in parts because he talks about himself alternately as a character in the book and as the author writing it. Impossible to tell fact from fiction for a large part of the novel. Some good quotes, though:

"I myself say atomic energy has made people unhappier than they were before, and that having to live in a two-hemisphere planet has made our aborigines a lot less happy, without making the wheel-and-alphabet people who 'discovered' them any fonder of being alive than they were before.
"Then again, I am a monopolar depressive descended from monopolar depressives. That's how come I write so good." 89 I love Vonnegut.

Vonnegut's suggested further amendments to the US Constitution:
"/Article XXVIII:/ Every newborn shall be sincerely welcomed and cared for until maturity.
"/Article XXIX:/ Every adult who needs it shall be given meaningful work to do, at a living wage." 152

"At the time of their invention, books were devices as crassly practical for storing or transmitting language,albeit fabricated from scarcely modified substances found in forest and field and animals, as the latest Silicon Valley miracles. But by accident, not by cunning calculation, because of their weight and texture, and because of their sweetly token resistance to manipulation, involve our hands and eyes, and then our minds and soul, in a spiritual adventure I would be very sorry for my grandchildren not to know about." 157 A fascinating theory.

"Any dream of taking care of our people [needs] some scheme for giving us all the support and companionship of extended families, within which sharing and compassion are more plausible than in an enormous nation..." 164

"Still and all, why bother [to write]? Here's /my/ answer: Many people need desperately to receive this message: 'I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people don't care about them. You are not alone.' " 193

{1222-1227}

Help from my crafty friends?

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 04:51:09 GMT

Dear friends who sell your artwork and craftwork online, I've set up an Etsy account but I'm not really sure how to start selling my stuff. Can I request some constructive criticism when you have a moment?

Some preliminary promotional pictures of my hand-woven baskets are here.

- I want to know, not what you think they are worth, but what you'd be likely/willing to pay for any of them. I don't want to make them so expensive they won't sell at all, but I also worry that if I under-price them too much, it will be unfair to others who make similar crafts.

Also feel free to tell me (nicely, please) if you'd just plain never consider buying such a thing.

- I'm worried about what to say about shipping time and cost, because they are all different sizes and I don't have a reliable source of boxes to pack them in.

Do I just get a bunch of too-big boxes so I can send them out at any time, or do you think people would mind waiting the extra few days while I rustle up an appropriately-sized box? Does weight or size make a bigger difference in terms of shipping cost? Should I charge a flat shipping fee for all items or should it depend on size (they vary from about 3" to 6" across)?

- I'm worried, too, about the possibility they will be damaged in the mail. I plan to stick them in sturdy cardboard boxes and surround with packing peanuts-- will that be enough? Do it cost anything extra to ship them marked "fragile"? (planning to ship within the US only so far). What kind of return policy, if any, is sensible to have?

- Which photos, if any, do you like? Do I need new ones altogether? I plan to have a few pictures of them in groups and in use for the front page, and then close-ups of each individual basket (empty) from several angles.

I defer to your greater experience! Thanks for any helpful tips you can offer!

On the plus side

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 03:49:57 GMT

I am definitely feeling better today. Either two days of getting lots of sleep and listening to whatever my stomach told me did the trick, or it was a false alarm in the first place. I realized it's not entirely too early for some pre-PMS after all. Today my appetite is back with a vengeance-- yay! I really should have bought that pesto sauce while it was on sale. Oh well-- tonight we fired up the grill and I got to cook the portabello mushroom caps I bought the other day. Nommy. We also had grilled fish, eggplant, onions, and curried cauliflower. I love food.

Botheration!

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 04:50:01 GMT

I called out of work tonight.

Either PMS is showing up a week early or I've caught the Wilburitis. Or maybe just a perfectly normal bug, who knows, but I don't want to risk giving it to everyone else, just in case. I feel guilty enough about going to classes this morning without a face-mask. I should have thought of it, but I was terribly groggy.

I don't actually feel sick yet-- just threateningly "off". Muscles a tad bit more achy than usual, skin a bit more sensitive to the touch, coughing and sneezing this morning (so was half the class, oh well), and the big clue that this isn't my usual conditions playing up-- my stomach has felt wibbly all day. In short, time to get lots of rest, take extra vitamins, and hide in bed for a day or two in the hopes that I can fight this off before it turns into a full-blown case of the nasties.

One downside to my miraculous wonderful asthma meds-- they do knock my immune system down a notch. Usually, I'm the last person to catch whatever is going around. Thank goodness for small mercies, eh? I'm not giving up the medication, though-- being able to breathe is a major plus.

I'm insanely thirsty, and craving salty stuff, and don't feel well enough to risk eating a solid meal. I've spent the evening alternating chicken broth with noodles in, juice, and greek olives.

The real kicker is that I swung by Fresh&Easy after class this morning (shoppping there is my new addiction, I swear) and absolutely everything I've ever wanted to eat was on clearance sale. And I didn't feel well enough to want any of it. I passed up some marvelous foods that I can hardly ever afford... but did bring home a few of the more durable items that I think will keep ok in the fridge till I feel better. Plus some Rosemary Rolls and two kinds of juice, both of which are on the list of good stuff to eat while sick.

I'm stuck right now between feeling silly and like I'm being a baby for staying home tonight... and being terribly afraid of just how sick I might get. There's a warning ache at the back of my throat and a certain stiffness to my jaw that may be signs of much unhappiness to come. And I have Chem class tomorrow evening.

In the meantime... I'm well-stocked with books and movies, and with any luck I'll feel well enough to come hang out on the intarwebz a bit, too. And maybe, just maybe, I'll manage to do my chemistry homework as well. Wish me luck!

EDIT: And of course, now that it's later in the evening I don't feel a bit tired or even partciularly unwell and I feel bad about not having gone to work and am wondering if it was just a cranky stomach making me feel all lousy, which is certainly possible. And I haven't done my chem homework. I did read three novels today, though. Really must get back to book-blogging soon.

I did promise pics, didn't I?

Mon, 09 Nov 2009 05:48:54 GMT

So, they're a bit late. Imagine, if you will, that it's Halloween.

And I'm coming for your braaiiinns....

Note the "blood-spattered" T-shirt (I couldn't rustle up a hospital gown on short notice)

And I didn't spend nearly enough time making evil faces in the mirror. But it was fun to go to work looking like this!

if you've got a few minutes:

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 22:51:50 GMT

quick survey a friend of mine needs taken for her class:

Greetings,

You have received this ~~e-mail~~ as a request to participate in a study conducted by students at the Indiana University School of Journalism. We are interested in learning more about your use of traditional and new media and would greatly appreciate if you could complete this short online survey. Your answers will remain completely confidential and anonymous. After completion of this survey, we ask you to please forward this message to your friends and relatives or anyone you think might participate as well.

Below is a direct link to the survey, which should only take about 5-10 minutes to complete.

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s. aspx?sm=RgqneMRnppJ_ 2fmnHbqTFw9Q_3d_3d

Thank you for your time and consideration.

The students of J423, IU School of Journalism

Ps. If you have any questions about this survey, please contact Prof. Lars Willnat at lwillnat@indiana.edu

Cat! I'm a kitty-cat! And I sleep sleep sleep, and I sleep sleep sleep....

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 20:42:30 GMT

Gah! Too much I want to do, read, write, think... movies I want to watch, websites I want to check out, etc, etc.... And so little time in a day. Particularly when my body insists on sleeping 12 hours straight every other night. Granted, I love sleeping. Fascinating dreams, being nice and toasty warm, no physical pain... But oh, how I wish there was more time in a day!

I may have the energy to do all the stuff I need to (eg, going to lots of classes and work), but I sure as hell don't have the time to do anything I want to. Bah. I wish I didn't have to work today and tomorrow. One day off a week is not enough. But I do need the money...

very coo!

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 20:30:11 GMT

A graphic design class's video version of "Little Red Riding Hood." Muchly awesome. I've never been a fan of graphic-design-style art before, but this is incredibly clever.

Thank you bottledgoose !

Slagsmålsklubben - Sponsored by destiny from Tomas Nilsson on Vimeo.

much amusement

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 04:21:25 GMT

via kittylady

Proposed humorous names for H1N1 flu and related concepts. Definitely read the comments. Includes:

Names that make sense include: pigfluenza and heinie flu (pronouncing H1N1 as if it were a word. Catchphrase: don't let it kick your ass)

Names that make no sense but are hilarious anyway: Ham and Eggsema, Sowmonella, babeonic plague

Terms for a grouping of cases: snoutbreak, hamdemic, aporkalypse.

I love you, intarwebz.

signal boosting, another cool story

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:50:00 GMT

via the_resa

Pretty (Bad Ass) in Pink: a women's "gang" in India fights for civil rights and social change.

On the Disporganized Nature of Lyzards

Thu, 05 Nov 2009 03:14:24 GMT

Ok, we all know I'm a slob and a packrat, but this has to be recorded for posterity.

Among the things I just found in a box approximately 1 foot square and containing primarily origami things:

- A full-sized container of white glue that I've been looking for for ages
- part of a broken telephone headset from at least 6 years ago
- a bar of partially melted chocolate
- an allergy symptoms questionnaire from my doctor's office (current one, amazingly enough)
- a set of plastic utensils from Delta Airline, still wrapped in their now-greatly-rumpled paper napkin and encircling label.
- a nearly empty roll of packing tape
- black plastic tinsel
- a notebook
- a sample-sized packet of personal lubricant
- a sandwich baggie of woefully old cracker crumbs
- an unopened package of mulling spices
- an amusement park token from I-don't-know-where or when
- a scrunchie, an empty mini-whoppers wrapper, an advertisement from our bookstore's last Christmas sale, and several cloth face-masks.

...WTF, self? What's truly sad is that I'm not throwing most of it out, either. Also, I didn't find either of the two things I was actually looking for. I am also now slightly scared to look anywhere else.

brief update

Mon, 02 Nov 2009 21:46:51 GMT

The weather here has been very strange lately (a few days ago I started to write this entry by saying that the weather had been rather schizophrenic of late... and got mentally side-tracked into a lengthy attempt to match weather patterns to actual symptoms of various mental illnesses. I still cannot determine whether the weather is bipolar or has borderline personality disorder).

A week ago, the day was so hot I went to campus in shorts and a tank top. That night the hot spell broke and Tuesday dawned chill and blustery, with high winds, clouds, and the threat of rain. I spent the week grumpy because of the cold and the effect it has on my lungs (necessitating some very expensive medication). Over the weekend it heated up again and although I was chilly when I dressed this morning, by the time classes let out at noon it was blisteringly hot again. And dry as hell. Still preferable to cold, though.

I had my period about a week and a half ago, which I mention only because I usually get a short spurt of energy around that time-- a few days of drive which even verge on the manic at times, followed by a prolonged crash. This time, to my happy surprise, the high days were less rushed and frenetic, and better still, no crash followed. My energy levels haven't remained exactly stable, but on average I've had a lot more energy over the past week than I've had in a long time-- at least, consistently. It's been really nice. Mind you, there's no shortage of stuff I need to get done, and I still need a lot of sleep, hence the fact that I'm still not posting often, etc... but it's really nice to feel for a change as if I'm keeping up with the wave of STUFF TO DO rather than being crushed by it. I've even managed to spend a very little time doing things for enjoyment, like going to a symphony concert yesterday.

I don't know what's causing this, but I hope it lasts!

and a quick link for your amusement

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 22:32:13 GMT

http://averagecats.com/ :the antidote to LOLcats. Via staysonpaper

You may also enjoy cute animal photos with snarky comments at f. u. penguin.

and back on a positive note

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 22:28:46 GMT

A story a true heroism: a gynecological surgeon offers free procedures to reverse the effects of female genital mutilation, improving their health and restoring their ability to experience pleasurable sex.

Thank you zarq for this link!

The Kindest Cut

In Colorado, a surgeon helps restore feeling—and so much more—to victims of female genital mutilation.
photos of "sila" (psuedonym) before, during and after treatment to reverse female genital mutilation - Dr. Marci Bowers performed surgery in Trinidad, Colo. in May 2009
Photos: Kristen Ashburn / Contact for Newsweek
By Eve Conant | Newsweek Web Exclusive
Oct 20, 2009

One day, when Sila Folow was an 8-year-old girl living in Mali, four elderly women held her down on the dirt floor of an outhouse and, in keeping with local tradition, used a sharp blade to cut out her clitoris and most of her labia. Her grandmother and other villagers held a celebration. Sila, bleeding and in terrible pain, could not walk for weeks. Like millions of other African girls who are forced to undergo female genital mutilation—a ritual many women say is intended to ensure that they grow up to become sexually passive wives who will not stray from their husbands—Sila never recovered. She eventually moved to New York, married, and had two children. But she was reluctant to have sex with her husband. It hurt, and the scarring made it impossible for her to feel pleasure.

This May, Sila, now 38 years old, underwent a simple but profound operation to undo the past. She traveled to Trinidad, Colorado, where Dr. Marci Bowers, a gynecological and pelvic surgeon, has recently begun to perform "clitoralplasty" or "female circumcision reversals" on African women. A relatively new procedure, it reshapes the anatomy and, in 80 percent of patients, restores pleasurable sensation. "I want my womanhood back," Sila told Bowers when she first spoke to the surgeon about the operation. "I just want to know it's there. To have the feeling that I can fight against this culture."

As she awaited the anesthesiologist on the morning of the surgery, Sila—attractive, fun-loving, and talkative—was uncharacteristically quiet in her thin blue gown and hospital socks. She took a final phone call from her husband and mother, and set aside the romance novel she had brought to the hospital as a little joke. It was titled Good Girl Gone Bad.

The doctors wheeled her to the operating room, anesthetized her and got to work. Dr. Bowers cut away the thick scar tissue that had formed over Sila's wound and had obscured the remains of her clitoris. She then scraped away layers of a black, sooty material—the decades-old remnants of the ash poultice the local women had used to stop the bleeding. It had caused a low-grade infection that still hadn't healed—one reason Sila was always in pain. "They really got her good," Bowers said, shaking her head behind her surgical mask. Bowers used a cauterizing tool to quickly stop a sudden rush of blood. "That's arterial blood flowing there," she said. "You can see why so many girls have died after circumcisions." The root of the clitoris, which extends several centimeters beneath the surface of a woman's skin,is much larger than most people—and for many years scientists—ever suspected. Bowers exposed the remaining flesh of the organ and drew it out, securing it in place with delicate stitches that eventually dissolve. Finally, Bowers also did some cosmetic work to restore the appearance of Sila's labia.

A little less than an hour after it began, the surgery was complete. Two days after that, Sila was on her way home. In most cases, it takes three to six months to begin to tell if the operation was a success. However, the extent of Sila's injury was so severe—her reconstruction took twice as long as the average 30 minutes due to the level of scarring and the depth of the cut—it may take longer before she knows if the surgery worked. Still, "You should be able to feel something; there was two centimeters of scar tissue over the area," Bowers told Sila right after the operation.

"Just knowing it's out and I'm clean, I feel great," Sila said, still groggy from the anesthesia. She says she looks forward to the day when she can "have a romance with my husband."

Sila's operation was only the fourth time Dr. Bowers had done the procedure, but she has more than twenty years of experience in reconstructive surgery. Bowers learned the procedure in Europe by observing Dr. Pierre Foldes, a French urologist and surgeon who pioneered the technique after years of humanitarian work in Africa. He has received death threats from radical Islamists for his work as a surgeon and for his other efforts to reduce violence against women, he says. But he continues to train doctors and to perform the surgery. Foldes—reached by telephone outside Paris—tells NEWSWEEK that more than 3,000 women have come to him, largely because in France, genital reconstruction surgery is covered by national health insurance. (In the United States insurance companies are still mostly unfamiliar with the surgery—only one of Bowers's patients has so far gotten full medical coverage for the procedure; others are still fighting with their insurance companies or have paid out of their own pockets. Bowers performs the surgery free of charge, and the hospital caps its fees at $1,700. "As Dr. Foldes has said, you cannot charge money to reverse a crime against humanity," she says. "Sexuality is a right."

Bowers speaks from personal experience. She was born male and underwent gender-reassignment surgery to become a woman 11 years ago. She now specializes in sex-change operations; she has performed some 700 of them, and is one of the leading gender-reassignment specialists in the U.S. The small Colorado town where her clinic is located has long been known as the sex-change capital of the world thanks to work of Dr. Stanley Biber, a pioneering surgeon in the 70s whose practice she took over. Asked if she is worried about the death threats that have followed Foldes, Bowers doesn't flinch. "I've jumped through enough fires and over enough barbed-wire fences in my life by now. I do not fear for my safety."

Bowers expects that the restoration technique she performed on Sila "will explode" in popularity as word gets out to the thousands of other circumcised African women who live in the United States. (Female genital mutilation is practiced in both Christian and Muslim communities and has been performed on some 100 to 130 million women worldwide, and some of those women may have been mutilated here in the U.S.). Since Sila, Bowers has performed four additional surgeries with two more scheduled for this month. A California nurse, Ngozi, who was circumcised as a newborn in Nigeria and also had her labia entirely cut away, came to Bowers in August. She is already feeling results, she tells NEWSWEEK. "Before, I would look at my textbook and look at myself and they were two different things. I wasn't even human." Bowers performed not only the clitoral operation but also plastic surgery to create labia for Ngozi, 34. "Now when I look at myself I feel like a woman," says Ngozi, who says she has even experienced orgasms for the first time in her life. "It's beautiful, I just love it, it feels like you're melting. Before it irritated me when my husband tried to touch me, now I reach out to him."

But here and even in Europe, many women fear being ostracized by their immigrant communities if they undergo the operation. Sila, whom NEWSWEEK followed before, during and after her operation, has the same concerns. She asked that her full name not be used for this article—Sila is her nickname—because she worries friends and family in America and Africa will once again treat her as an outcast. Sila knows about the stigma uncircumcised girls suffer in some African communities. Her mother, who was 14 when she gave birth to her, was vehemently opposed to female circumcision and for years refused to subject Sila to the procedure. In Mali, where nine out of 10 girls are forced to undergo the ritual, Sila stood out. Her cousins and friends had all been circumcised, many as infants. They teased her for being unclean and wouldn't let her eat at the same table with them. When Sila was 8, her mother moved to the United States, leaving her grandmother to raise her. The grandmother soon arranged for Sila to be made "normal." But the women who performed the circumcision the first time weren't satisfied with their work. Three weeks later, they held her down and cut her again. (In one way, Sila says, she was lucky. Some African girls are subjected to an even more extreme and dangerous ritual called an infibulation, which involves sewing up the vagina, leaving only a small opening for urine and menstrual blood.)

In 1989, when Sila was a teenager, her mother invited her to come live with her in the United States. She went to high school and college, and became a U.S. citizen. Dating was awkward. When she'd meet a young man, says Sila, "I'd think, he's cute, but if he knows he will run away. I would go out with them but when it came time for bed I'd say, 'Bye!' " She married an African man at age 20. Her husband was understanding. "He had lived in the U.S. a long time," she says. "He thinks the circumcisions are wrong." But her avoidance of intimacy strained their relationship. An avid reader, Sila devoured American romance novels with a tinge of jealousy and confusion. "I'd think, I wish I had that."

Last year she was reading a book with a character who'd had a sex change and wondered if she could change herself too—not into a man, but into a "real" woman. If a man can be made to feel like a woman, she thought, maybe they could fix me?

She surfed the Internet and discovered Foldes. She arranged an appointment, but the cost of the trip was high and French health care wouldn't cover an American patient. She found a small nonprofit organization on the web called Clitoraid, which had helped to fund Dr. Bowers's training in France. The organization has unusual backers: it is run primarily by volunteers of the provocative French Raelian movement—the pleasure-promoting "UFO religion" whose members believe life on Earth was created by a race of advanced aliens and who emphasize human sexuality. Clitoraid, however, reaches out to women of all religions and focuses solely on connecting women with trained surgeons in order to "create real, long-lasting changes for women who have been forced to experience clitoral excision or genital mutilation against their will" according to its mission statement. It has been the primary source of referrals to Dr. Bowers and has provided some financial aid to some of her patients, In late May, Sila flew to Colorado for the surgery. Like many of Bowers's patients, she stayed at a guesthouse for people awaiting sex-change operations. She was charged just $35 per night, less than half the usual rate.

Sila had spoken with two of Bowers's first three patients. Mariam—she agreed to give only her first name—was circumcised as an infant in Mauritania and now lives in Virginia. She spoke with NEWSWEEK seven weeks after her surgery and was still healing, but had begun to recover some sensation. "When I cross my legs or sit in a certain way, I feel something," she says. "It's kind of exciting. You keep wanting to do it." She is still haggling to have her hospital stay covered by insurance. "I've gone through this hell, why are they going to say this is cosmetic?" she says. "They don't even know what they're talking about. If a person is missing something, it's not cosmetic."

After the surgery, Sila showed anger for the first time at the women who cut her as a child. "They were so mean, so mean to me," she said as she rested on the couch in the guesthouse. "I want to go back and"—she made a shooting motion—"t-t-t with a gun." But she quickly reverted to her cheerful self. "Even if I feel something just one time, it will all be worth it." She knows she'll be criticized by fellow immigrants who may read this story, but hopes that eventually those who practice female circumcision will come to recognize it for what it is—a primitive and barbaric act. "They'll call me an infidel now, but later they will say it is a good thing," she says.

The night before her operation Sila could barely sit still, much less sleep. It was, she wrote in her journal, her last night "as an incomplete woman." At one point, she took a call from her mother. In African culture, says Sila, "usually you don't talk about things like this with your mother." But when she told her mother that she was going to have the operation, her mom was envious. "Oh, I'm too old to do it," she told her daughter. That was how Sila learned that her mother, too, had been circumcised. And now her mom hopes to be one of Dr. Bowers's next patients.

another signal-boost

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 21:29:47 GMT

I may not be able to do much to help, but I can do this:

http://community.livejournal.com/save_dave/283.html

I've got a lot of thoughts about this sort of thing, but not enough spoons to write them down. Some day, I will explain. But for now, I will simply pass along the stories of people who need help, and trust that we will all do what we can, that what goes around comes around, and that we'll all keep holding each other up.... and that things will get better.

and now, for much less pleasant news

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:34:26 GMT

This is beyond fucked-up. I'm sorry, but that's the only word I can use to describe it.

Please, please, please

1) Read. Hear the story. Thank you to shadesong for linking me to the story, via, unfortunately, this link about how the lawsuit has been dismissed.
2) Pass it along, tweet it, post it, whatever you can to get the word out.
3) Donate or get involved with activism if you can.

Hello, I am Janice Langbehn. I know that many of you here tonight have heard the story of our family and the horrible treatment our family received at Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami.

On February 18, 2007, Lisa Pond, my partner of nearly 18 years and 3 of our 4 adopted children: Danielle, David and Katie were on board the Rfamily cruise preparing to set sail. Before leaving port, Lisa suddenly collapsed while watching the children play basketball. The kids were banging on the stateroom door saying, “Mommy was hurt!” I opened the door, and took one look at Lisa and knew the situation was very serious. As a medical social worker for many years, I have seen people in critical condition. I knew that my life partner was gravely ill. As the ship was about to leave, we had no choice but to seek medical help in an unfamiliar city. After local medics arrived, we hurried off the ship to the closest hospital in Miami, Ryder Trauma Center at Jackson Memorial Hospital.

As Lisa was put into the ambulance I had no idea when she signed “I love you” to the kids and I it would be the last time I would see her beautiful blue eyes. We arrived at the trauma center minutes before her ambulance. I tried to follow her gurney into the trauma area and was stopped by the trauma team and told to go to the waiting room. The kids and I did as we were told.

We arrived shortly after 3:30 in the afternoon, around 4pm, a social worker came out and introduced himself as Garnet Frederick and said, “you are in an anti-gay city and state. And without a health care proxy you will not see Lisa nor know of her condition”. He then turned to leave; I stopped him and asked for his fax number because I said “we had legal Durable Powers of Attorney” and would get him the documents. Within a short time of meeting this social worker, I contacted friends in Lacey, WA, our hometown, who went to our house and faxed the legal documents required for me to make medical decisions for Lisa.

I never imagined as I paced that tiny waiting room that I would not see Lisa’s bright blue eyes again or hold her warm, loving hands. Feeling helpless as I continued to wait, I attempted to sneak back into the trauma bay but all the doors to the trauma area had key codes, preventing me from entering. Sitting alone with our luggage, our children and my thoughts, I watched numbly as other families were invited back into the trauma center to visit with loved ones. I was still waiting to hear what was happening with Lisa, realizing as the time passed that I was not being allowed to see her and if the social worker’s words were any indication it was because we were gay. Anger, despair and disbelief wracked my brain as I tried to figure out a way to find out what was going on with Lisa. I finally thought to call our family doctor back in Olympia (on a Sunday afternoon at home) to see if she could find out what was happening. While on the phone with our doctor in Olympia, a surgeon appeared. The surgeon told me that Lisa, who was just 39 years old, had suffered massive bleeding in her brain from an aneurysm. A short while later, two more surgeons appeared and explained the massive bleed in Lisa’s brain gave her little chance to survive and if she did it would be in a persistent vegetative state. Lisa had made me promise to her over and over in our 18 years together to never allow this to happen to her. I let the surgeons know Lisa wishes, which were also spelled out in her Living Wills and Advance Directive. I was then promised by the doctors that I would be brought to see Lisa as “soon as she was cleaned up”. At that point all life saving measures ceased and I asked that she be prepared for organ donation.

Yet, the children and I continued to wait and wait. A Hospital Chaplain appeared and asked if I wanted to pray and I looked at her dumbfounded as if I hadn’t already been doing that for over four hours. I immediately asked for a Catholic Priest to perform Lisa’s Last rites. A short time later, A Catholic priest escorted me back to recite the Last Rites and it was my first time in nearly 5hrs of seeing Lisa. After seeing her I knew the children needed to see her immediately and be able to say their goodbyes and begin the grieving process. Yet the priest escorted me back out to the waiting room. Where I was faced with the young faces of our beautiful children to explain “other mommy” was going to heaven.

I continued to assert my self over the ensuing hours again that we needed to be with Lisa. I even showed the Admitting clerk the children’s birth certificates with both Lisa and my name on them… and said if you won’t let me back, let her children be with her. I was told they were “too young”. I thought how old do you need to be to say goodbye to your mother?

In nearly eight hours, Lisa lay at Ryder Trauma Center moving toward brain death – completely alone and I continue to this day to feel like a failure for not being there to hold her hand to tell her how much we loved her, to comfort her and to sign in her hand “I love you”. All my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Lisa’s sister arrived driving straight from Jacksonville as soon as I knew Lisa would not survive. She announced who she was and I was at her side staring at the same person who had been denying me access all those hours. It was only then that I was told Lisa had been moved almost an hour earlier to ICU… and the hospital just kept the children and I waiting in the same waiting room, where Lisa was not even at.

On Monday February 19, 2007 at 10:45am, Lisa was officially declared Brain Dead. It was then that individuals from individuals from the Organ Donation Agency became involved (who I must point out are completely separate professionals from Jackson Memorial Hospital) that I finally was validated as Lisa’s spouse. They asked me which organs she wanted donated. And through this tragedy Lisa saved 4 lives and those at the gathering last night met Jerry, the keeper of Lisa’s heart. Her heart could not be in better hands and I am so grateful and humbled to have met him in person.

whee

Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:10:12 GMT

Sir Terry Pratchett, international bestselling author, geeks out about his favorite computer game, programming, and the joys of creative modding.

bring me...

Sat, 31 Oct 2009 17:28:49 GMT

..braaaaaaaiiiins!

Yes, I'm going to work today dressed as a zombie (instead of, as usual, just feeling like one).

All I can say is, I make ugly look goood.

Also, zombies should not wear glasses. But it can't be helped. Well, maybe I'll take them off at work. That would at least give me a reason to walk around all day with my arms outstretched in front of me!

This!

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 21:17:52 GMT

A great short article about the value of graphic novels. Thank you whoever I stole this link from.

Confessions of a comics fan: My secret shame
Julia Keller CULTURAL CRITIC

August 9, 2009

The reader was outraged. The thrust of her question: How dare you?

Her contempt arose in response to a column I wrote praising certain graphic novels. And she was not alone in her seething censure. I heard from several other readers as well, wondering why I had allowed myself to be seduced by the easy enchantments of comic books. Frankly, they expected better of me -- given my doctoral degree in English literature and my well-known and oft-alluded-to affinity for dense, difficult, high-minded novels by the likes of Virginia Woolf and Joseph Conrad.

How had I allowed myself to be plucked from the stately, dignified ivory tower and lured down into the publishing world's damp basement, a place of shag carpet, flea-market furniture and flea-bitten ideas, X-Men posters on the wall, empty pop cans underfoot and stacks upon stacks of comic books?

Just what did I have to say for myself?

I understood the umbrage. Still do, in fact, even though I'm about to compound my sin and error by praising a graphic novel published earlier this month by Hill & Wang. A new adaptation of Ray Bradbury's classic work "Fahrenheit 451" (1953), with a fascinating and challenging new introduction by the author, is a vivid reminder of the special power of a graphic novel, of the genre's ability to do things that words alone can't.

Believe me, I often question my affection for graphic novels. I loved Superman as a kid, but when it comes to comics, we're not in Kansas anymore. Graphic novels have become terrifically popular, thanks to fiercely imaginative practitioners like Neil Gaiman, as well as to a growing body of sophisticated theoretical work on the genre by astute writers such as Scott McCloud and Douglas Wolk.

Indeed, I find myself wishing graphic novels weren't so hip; their popularity has made me question my own motives. Am I just trying to sound cool? Is an affection for graphic novels by anyone over 25 simply the literary equivalent of buying a sports car or getting a face lift?

The new graphic version of "Fahrenheit 451" has helped sort out the contents of my soul. And I'm happy to report that I'm in the clear. I am quite certain that I'd be trumpeting the virtues of this work even if graphic novels weren't on everybody's hot list, even if a graphic novel weren't as trendy an accessory as an Obama campaign button.

"What you have before you now," Bradbury writes in the introduction, "is a further rejuvenation of a book that was once a short novel that was once a short story that was once a walk around the block, a rising up in a graveyard, and a final fall of the House of Usher."

What the Waukegan native is getting at, of course, is art's protean quality, those quicksilver properties that keep it young -- and not in the sports-car, plastic-surgery sense of the word "young." Some stories captivate us, generation after generation, because they're great stories, not because they happen to show up in a particular binding. They don't grow old because they don't stand still long enough to age. They're constantly in motion: dancing, shifting, darting, remaking themselves to rhyme with changes in society.

Faber, a character in "Fahrenheit 451," puts it this way: "It's not books you need, it's some of the things that once were in the books. ... Books were only one type of receptacle where we stored a lot of things we were afraid we might forget. ... The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us."

Most people know the simple, harrowing story of "Fahrenheit 451," the tale of how a future government requires books to be burned routinely, until a brave firefighter begins to question the practice.

If you know the novel, you'll still be thrilled by Tim Hamilton's artwork in this new version, which combines a comic-book clarity -- the panels are simple and straightforward, without the distraction of a lot of visual razzmatazz -- with a deep, humane rendering of the novel's theme.

My reason for enjoying graphic novels, I must confess, is not nearly so grand. The truth is that too many years as a book critic have threatened to turn me into a reading machine. I read too fast. I mow down rows of type like a scythe murdering a field.

With a graphic novel, however, I'm forced to slow down. I can't rush. I can't go hell-for-leather across the page. I have to consider both the images and the words. I have to linger. I have to let things sink in. I have to learn all over again how to savor.

Some of my anti-comics correspondents claim that reading a graphic novel is not really "reading" at all. They're right. It's something else again. In the case of "Fahrenheit 451," it's more like a life-changing immersion in ideas, words, echoes, symbols, characters, lines, colors, nightmares -- and finally, daybreak.

COMMENTS (4)
Words by themselves are considered literature. Hang a picture on a wall, and it's considered art. Combine the two and somehow the whole becomes less than the sum of its parts -- an "art form" not worthy of the name.

Only the novel was once considered a low form fit only for low people too stupid and unsophisticated to read poetry. The same could be said of rock 'n roll, jazz, cinema... any new art form that finds success with the masses is always regarded with suspicion and derision by the elite gatekeepers of cultural legitimacy.

Only those gatekeepers inevitably retire or die and their successors -- weaned on those "low forms" -- exalt their childhood loves to the status of high art and expand the canon accordingly. As a cartoonist myself and the graphic novel reviewer over at the Sun-Times, I'm proud to be part of that new vanguard.

I'm also head of a non-profit organization affiliated with my alma mater, Northwestern University, that is dedicated to promoting the use of comics in schools. We intend to study just how comics work as educational tools, and we're confident we'll find that the right comics used in the right manner can work very well indeed.

The times, they are a changin', and Julia's outraged reader had best get with them or else be left behind.

JoshElder1938 (08/17/2009, 11:52 AM )

How very very...odd, your reader's reaction. Graphic novels are reviewed in The New York Review of Books and the Times Literary Supplement. Yale University Press and the University Press of Mississippi have monographic series on comics studies. Dissertations are being defended, academic articles are being published in peer-reviewed journals, National Book Awards are being won...graphic novels are accepted material for scholarly examination. Does this mean all of them are worthy of such study? Well, is all prose literature worthy of such study? Perhaps your reader thinks all graphic novels are superheroes beating up villains, or Archie pursuing Betty and Veronica. Of course, there are interesting things being done in those genres as well, but the medium of graphic narrative holds legions: biography, memoir, journalism, history, fantasy, etc. Perhaps the reader should, you know, read some before rushing to judgment. And you, Julie, have no reason to feel shame at all!

KarenLGreen (08/17/2009, 11:49 AM )

I am sure there is some sort of irony here that the offended parties don't see the significance of their supposed outrage. These are likely the same folks who would declare Shakespeare's writing as 'classic literature' when in fact, he was a playwright. He wrote stories that were to be seen and heard-not read.
The other obvious point is that these elitist 'litera-nazis' have never read a graphic novel.
Honestly, the skill set for the author who can both draw the images to reflect what he or she wants to convey AND write dialog that is meaningful-is an amazing ability.
To those who object to this amazing format, I dare you to read a story like Swallow Me Whole or Stiches. Then lets see what you have to say.
Julia, I take my hat off to you and I thank you too, for helping others to see what this amazing format can do for the future of books and story telling.
J.Shableski

JShableski (08/15/2009, 9:23 PM )

I've suggested to my book group (all post-50) that we read a graphic novel so am happy to hear about one that is about something other than superheroes. I would be even happier if I could read Julia's earlier column on graphic novels that she makes reference to but can't find it. Why does it always seem so difficult to find anything on the Trib website? Wouldn't it make sense to have a link to the earlier column on this page or at least mention the date the column ran? Anyway, now that I've explained to my group what a graphic novel is, I'm hoping since Julia's endorsed them, I can get one on our reading list. Thanks!

SusanR0808 (08/10/2009, 12:35 PM )

cool stuffs for u!

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 07:09:01 GMT

Best signs from the gay-rights march. Thank you shadesong !

And the digital generation at its most excellent-- an incredible music video made entirely from web-cam clips (courtesy of zarq )

so little time, so much of everything else...

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 05:39:58 GMT

So, I currently have 5 books listed as "must read this one next, absolutely definitely ASAP"... and that's not even taking into account which ones are due at the library this week.

Slept late today, in spite of alarm clock. Why? Why does my body insist on 13 hours sleep in a single block?

Although, I admit, it was hard to drag myself away from my dreams... one of those great long epic sagas that, among other things, sounded like a brilliant concept for a novel while I was dreaming it. To my amazement, even once I woke up, I was able-- just barely-- to salvage enough coherence for a good short story. If I can only find the time and brain to write it.

Started writing this morning, didn't get far. Wound up spending the day cleaning my room instead. Now, I'm the sort of person who barely notices the existence of a mess until I have to clamber over it to get to things, and hardly even then. So for me to decide that my room was too messy and needed to be cleaned was... well, epic. To tthose of you who have seen my room before: it was worse than that, if you can imagine such a thing. And if you can, you have my sympathy. In short, it was Not Pretty.

It is now in much better state thanks in large part to the existence of surgical masks, which allowed me to clean without dying of respiratory allergies! Yay! Wish I'd discovered these things years ago.

Also, I love San Diego. It's mid-october and I spent the day in a bikini top and shorts. Not typical for this time of year, but I'm not complaining.

Want very much to make this entry better-written than it is, but I just feel so terribly terribly pressed for time. Last few days (thanks to a certain time of month,) I've been relatively energetic, full of ideas and thoughts and bother why do they all come at once in a great big lump where I can't untangle them all and have time to write them all down it all just goes by so fast and then I know I'll wake up one morning soon and my brain will have gone back to being full of grey soup damnit!

*breathes*

Should eat something (I mostly skipped meals today in favor of cleaning-- I hate how much eating slows me down, but I also hate the crash if I run on adrenaline too long instead of food) and put my butt to bed. Classes tomorrow morning.

Damnit I want to write.

And I still haven't found my concert tickets, which were a main incentive for today's clean-up.

I still havne't posted my new hot chocolate recipe.

And I know I had an idea today for another post, something brief and funny, and I can't remember what it is any more. I /hate/ the way my brain works.

And I need to.... but if I keep making /that/ list, I'll be here all night.

Beware of Link

Thu, 22 Oct 2009 19:26:45 GMT

Pic heavy link coming up, but I just have to post it.

Disney Princes Calendar Pages. (Disney guys drawn as semi-realistic pin-ups).

Awesome? Hilarious? Hot? Disturbing as all Hell? All of the above and then some. You will never see "Enchanted" the same way again. Or "The Little Mermaid," for that matter. Meeeeow!

Blame bottledgoose

In Which I Haz An Idea

Wed, 21 Oct 2009 20:47:52 GMT

It occurs to me that if a god or gods were in fact undeniably real, as they are in so many fantasy novels, a branch of study would immediately spring up consisting of mathematician-theologians calculating the odds and statistics of, and conditions under which, prayers would most likely be granted.

It could be quite a lucrative profession in fact, although I foresee a debate between churches over whether or not it is proper to sell better chances to the highest bidder, or whether the knowledge should be reserved for church use, or made available to all in need, and so forth. And it would be a busy field, constantly being updated as new miracles occur, are recorded, and are taken into account in the equations.

I envision much debate over which miracles are definitely miracles, which are lucky coincidences, whether it is possible for an event to be both, which god is responsible for which miracle, etc., etc. It would be a marvelous area of study, and very methodologically rigorous in spite of the many points of debate.

...see, this is what happens when you let fluffy-minded people like me read about Kuhn's philosophy of science.

A note to my writerly friends: As I am not a writerly person, I shall not be including this marvelous idea in a story or novel, much as I would love to. If you can give it a good home in one of yours, please do. If it ends up in a published work, I would appreciate a notification and a brief mention in the credits. Thank you!