Enjoying a few days of sea, old façades, and seafood. Have tried nettle-flavoured vodka for the first time, was very impressed. Am publishing poetry and nodding along to Ren.
P.S. The highway from Kiev to Odessa is great.
It’s my birthday! Time for a new meme! The Happy Me Meme!
This meme is by me, and it shall be known as the Happy Me Meme for all eternity (or however long the Internet lasts).
Basically, the idea is to tell the world 8 facts about your life that you find heart-warming or facts that cheer you up on dark days or some cheesy crap like that. It’s a way to make you feel good about your life, no matter what. The facts can be as random and seemingly innocuous as you wish them to be. I chose 8, because it’s my favourite number.
1. The fact of birth was announced on a giant Soviet factory. My dad was there on business while my mom was in the hospital, and my grandmother, a doctor, called my dad’s office, which then called the factory. My dad was walking around the building, and the director decided to find him via the PA system. So they boomed: “Congratulations to Comrade Antonov on the birth of a daughter! Come to the main office now please!” My dad got there, and they had cognac set out for him.
2. Once upon the time, I had the distinct privilege of corresponding with my favourite modern author. I blubbered from happiness.
3. I know what it’s like to gallop on a horse, across a field with crackling frozen grass, as the sun is going down.
4. My mother taught me many things, but the most important thing she taught me is to love poetry. You’re never alone when you have poetry. Even the mere act of reciting it in your head is like holding someone else’s hand.
5. I have the best job ever, and no matter what, just being given the chance to do what I do right now is a great, fantabulous honour.
6. I’m glad to have had such a weird and unusual journey so far, I like being an American-Ukrainian-Russian presently living in the Middle East. I hope this feeling lasts.
7. I’m glad I was born into this family, in this city, and in this time. I am not always glad of these things (being a human being and all), but I generally am, and this gladness helps me to keep on keeping on.
8. I know what it’s like to love and be loved in return, and my love covers everything: traffic jams and bad weather patterns and soaring prices of designer underwear.
I tag Octogalore, Belledame, Rootietoot, Kim, Amber, Vanessa, Renegade, and Henry (whom I haven’t spoken to in a while, *sniff*). Oh, and d’oh, I’m tagging Sylvia too, of course (I don’t think I’ve ever tagged her before, which means she *has* to do this, hear that, Sylvia?).
In Sexxxayfunfeminist Land, Where the Shadows Lie
Renegade has two very beautiful posts up just now, here and here. She has incredible strength: in every muscle, and every thought and deed. Words and images are rarely more profound than this.
And Jill has given us another form of beauty – this one a bit more frou-frou but no less classic.
As for me, I think it’s fitting that I would write my column this week on beauty and love and grim reality. It wasn’t one of my more poetic ones, though. I’d like to give you a whole different kind of, um, poetry.
Behold! The cleavage that sunk a thousand feminist battleships!
Behold also! A much less stylized photo featuring, it would seem, the same dastardly cleavage (which really hardly even qualifies for cleavage, but manages to “hurt women” regardless – it’s just that ingenious):
And just in case you thought I was done! Behold at last! I am the wielder of the flame of Anor…. Sorry, I am the wielder of the Cleavage of Unnumbered Tears, and I pose here with my family’s ferocious trained beastie, Fedya, just so you know not to mess with me in the future:
I can only hope that everyone is sufficiently terrorized. I hear the Patriarchy’s check is already in the mail for this one. Will spend it on something appropriately sparkly and empowerful (and possibly some catfood).
The hell?
I know you’re not supposed to feed these things, but honestly, this is like a rare circus creature, it begs to be admired. If you believe this incredible story, the rare circus creature discovered me on an unnamed “fantasy forum” where a member supposedly brought up my fairy tales, then remarked that I am “pretty for a feminist.” Rare circus creature got all uppity as the result. She stalked my column, stalked my blog, made incredibly slanderous statements about me eslewhere in cyberspace, and has now decided to host her bulls… pardon, her “testament” on her own, super-special blog.
A few choice bits:
I’ve never met a real feminist who was pretty.
I’ve never met a bounty hunter or a member of the British royal family. I guess they mustn’t exist either.
I’ve been to Russia and there’s lots of good if deluded women there.
“Good if deluded”? Let me guess, you’re the sort of person who says things like “oh, I just love those Africans with their oversized necklaces and funny chants!”
Natalia doesn’t represent them.
Please give some proof of where it was that I’ve claimed to represent Russian women. I triple-dare you.
I liked The Apostate’s blog but I became angry and upset when I clearly saw she had also posted a suggestive picture of herself… Put some clothes on, Apostate.
“Cover your shame, woman!” Do you even KNOW who you sound like here? I may not be best buds with the Apostate, but that’s sick, hateful crap. You’re no better than the sexist men who have tried to humiliate her for wearing *gasp* a farking bikini top.
If you come to a bad end, Ren Ev, remember that the real feminists saw it coming. No it’s not a threat. It’s a simple reality check. You let men use you, so don’t be surprised if and when it goes too far.
My God you are a hateful little gremlin. How is this any different from a man telling a woman something like, “too bad you got raped, but you were wearing that short skirt. Everyone KNOWS what happens to women in short skirts..”??? You all but said, “hey, Ren, if you get killed… hah. Sucks for you.”
Jill Fillipovic is the original Fake Pretty Feminist. It’s all based on looks it’s all vapid it has nothing to do with women’s liberation.
It’s all “based on looks”? Pumpkin, it seems your LIFE revolves around looks, other people’s looks specifically. What the hell have you done for women anyway? Oh, I recall you balefully alluding to Super Important Work you have done In the Name of All Women when I was still tolerating you on this website (oh, and remember what I threw you off for? For laughing in my face when a friend of mine died and I wrote about it here. Oh, you’re just full of wimminly lurrrrv, are you not?!).
Jill owns you, you miserable gnome.
Sorry but this is a war, and you know what? You get to choose your sides in a war. If the Muslamists come after you for being who you are, don’t say we didn’t issue a warning to you when we still cared
Shorter FA: “Sorry, but you have the wrong kind of relationships. Maybe you’ll get killed, and I’ll get to have a big ‘I Told You So’ moment.” Nooo, she’s not wishing anyone come to any sort of harm, not at all.
If an ugly woman posts her picture on her blog, she is being transgressive. But a pretty conventional woman doing that is performing the exact opposite action. If you’re going to show off your looks to gain approval from men don’t call yourself a feminist.
And who’s the wise arbiter of beauty among us? You, FA? You know, based on this “logic,” it seems that women should be pretty much invisible. We shouldn’t have our faces out there, hell, we shouldn’t leave the house, lest some guy should get a boner.
Well, I seem to recall that the Taliban were not big fans of this whole “women showing their faces/women leaving their houses” thing either. So bravo, at the very least you’re not shivering alone on Irrational Hate Island.
If anything positive has come out of this entire debacle so far, it’s that Caroline has been busy being both beautiful and smart. And Ren has a great discussion on her blog, which has inspired more stuff from Belle. And Kim picks apart this dumbass even further.
So I’ve got nothing much to add, besides the fact that this entire thing is gross. I have no idea what sort of sewer such epic creatures emerge from, and I really hope they would just stay there.
“I’m a Happy Cockroach” – The World Premiere
This is my brother and I, singing the “I’m a Happy Cockroach” song, which has become the ringtone of champions in Russian-speaking circles (the word “champions” being, uh, synonymous with “twelve-year-olds”). The thumps you hear are supposed to be the sounds of shoes being flung at the Happy Cockroach. The Happy Cockroach is taunting the shoe-flinger.
Now, I have to warn you, the video does end on a tragic note. After the final thump, the cockroach is no longer singing. And I, the survivor of many an epic battle with the scuttling spawns of Satan, have a murderous grin on my face. This isn’t for the faint of heart, so don’t bill me for the Valium later, ’cause I have warned your ass and don’t have money anyway.
P.S. The performance is, of course, dedicated to very special twin birthdays; to my mother Tatiana and my aunt, godmother, and namesake, Natalia. Live long and prosper, my ladies.
Natalia A. 