This blog is now done.

I've gone through some personal shit so as a symbolic gesture of rebirth or something I'm moving this blog so PLEASE GO TO THERE AND READ IT!  Thx bye!

https://justkiddingnobutseriously.wordpress.com/

You won't like me when I'm angry

Anger has been on my mind recently.  I've come to the realization that a good part of my depression over the years (other than the genetic pre-disposition/brain chemistry part, THANKS PARENTS!) has been due to anger that I've turned on myself.

Societal norms don't leave a lot of room for human beings to express anger in a healthy way, but it's made particularly difficult and problematic for women.  Until a few months ago, I never really understood the extent to which I've been trained to suppress my feelings of anger, justified or not.  I was sitting in therapy, trying to suss out what had triggered a depressive episode, when my therapist hit the nail on the head: "Jackie, I don't think you are sad.  I actually think you are really angry."  It was a revelation.

Ever since I was a small child, I've known that anger is Very Bad.  Anger leads to shouting, and fighting, and people not liking you.  You are angry?  Well, that means you're mean, and loud, and you fight with people, and good girls aren't mean.  They aren't too loud.  They don't fight with people.  They are liked.

So whenever something happened that made me angry, I would twist the situation in my mind until it was all my fault:

"Another little girl tells me I'm a show-off because I sang well in the school play?  Well, I must seem too stuck up then; it's my fault.  It couldn't possibly be because she was jealous and wanted the part for herself!"

"A boy on the bus calls me a loser and spits in my face?  Well, I must be ugly and nerdy and unlikeable.  It couldn't possibly be because he's a mini-misogynist and a sociopath who picks on every girl in the class because he enjoys hurting them."

"My 10th grade biology teacher leers at me and laughs while my male classmates make fun of my large breasts?  My shirt must be too low-cut; I should wear something with a higher neckline.  It couldn't possibly be because he's a predatory creep who shouldn't be within 500 feet of a school, much less teaching high schoolers."

When you're trained to outwardly express and feel anything but anger, these convoluted justifications for other people's inexcusable or inappropriate behavior become automatic.  They supplant reason and make it impossible for you to view a situation rationally.  And they direct anger inward, where it wreaks havoc while bubbling like lava just beneath the surface of your consciousness--until it inevitably explodes.

I've had several explosions over the years, and they were bad.  One in high school made me some enemies and pretty much ruined my senior year of high school.  Instead of reacting appropriately to individual situations that inspired justifiable anger in me, I kept it all inside until one last, tiny, insignificant straw landed on the camel's back and the camel blew up and screamed at fucking everybody.  That was a bad day--what I remember of it, at least.  My mind has blocked out a lot of it, the fallout was that traumatic at the time.

Much worse, however, have been the much more frequent implosions: the times where the anger burned bright hot and bored a giant black hole in my head and my heart, a hole I tumbled into and couldn't climb out of for days or weeks or months.  When things imploded, I wanted to hurt myself and I thought about ways to make it happen.  I realize now that the Big Breakdown in 2013 was really all about anger, mostly directed at people in my job who were taking advantage of me at the time.  Instead of telling them how I felt and using my anger as a tool to defend myself from their tactics or at least call them out for bad behavior, I blamed and hated and raged at myself for everything that was going wrong and then fell apart.

Now I'm working on expressing anger in a healthy way.  If I need to scream or throw (soft!) things in my apartment at night, I do it.  At work, I try to channel anger into actually, for the first time in my life, telling people when what they are doing is inappropriate, rude, or simply mean.  This has been especially hard because most of the people at work I push back on have 10 years of experience on me and think a lot of themselves (sometimes justifiably, sometimes not).  But I'm learning, and it's actually making me even better at my job--an unexpected and pleasantly surprising bonus.

This week has been interesting, because there is simply a lot of shit going on in the world that is pissing me (and most people with a modicum of common sense and human decency) off.  This whole HobbyLobby business has cast a pall over the week since Monday.   Yet another blow by a bunch old white dudes to the dignity, health, and autonomy of women in this country.  And, just like when I was a child, I hear the same old message loud and clear from all sides: "Women: don't get angry don't get angry PLEASE DON'T GET ANGRY.  Not only does it make us SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE, it also means you're a Shrill, Hysterical, Very Bad and Mean Feminist (TM, Fox News).  No one will like you if you're angry."

Here's the thing - some people won't like me (or any woman, really) when I'm angry, and I'm finally getting that this is good because anger is necessary, and if they see that I'm angry then I'm going in the right direction.  Anger gets things done.  Directed at the right targets, anger can be a powerful tool for change, both on a personal level and on a broad scale.  Harnessing my anger has made me better at what I'm currently paid to do, and it's helping me understand and fight my depression.  Harnessing anger has fought injustice and ended atrocities around the world.  Harnessing anger of millions of minorities and their allies is what will fuel the ongoing fight to stop nutjobs and bigots from trying to take the world back to the Middle Ages.  It's also what will ultimately win that fight.  GO SHRILL, HYSTERICAL, VERY BAD AND MEAN FEMINISTSTM!!!!!!!

So, yeah, some people may not like me when I'm angry, but that's cool.  It worked for the Hulk, right?

Asshole alert! Also, sexism in the workplace.

So I've been in HR at a major tech company for nearly seven years, and throughout my tenure I've spent a lot of time putting on a smile and pretending to be nice to assholes.  Well, as of today, I'm done.

This morning, at the request of my client group, I gave a optional, extra, special, not-required-by-my-job presentation on new performance management practices to about 30 people live and on video conference.  These practices are controversial and are causing folks some consternation, which is acceptable.

What happened during the meeting, however, was not.

About halfway through the presentation, one of my senior clients got up, wrote a word he "didn't want to hear" from me anymore on the whiteboard in huge letters, and then crossed it out to demonstrate to me and the room (because I'm a fucking five-year-old kindergartener, apparently) that he really doesn't like that word and he doesn't want to hear it ever again!  He was visibly agitated the whole time, his eyes widening and his jowls shaking as he chastised me, his colleague, in front of his peers and direct reports, for the HR department being "the politburo." Of course, as all assholes who want to cover their asshole-ish asses do, he proceeded to clarify that he "wasn't directing any of this at me" but was "just so frustrated with the system," etc.  After holding back tears for the remainder of the presentation,  I tried to take him aside to give him some feedback about treating me like a 10 year old in front of a good chunk of his team.  He cut me off abruptly: "I know what this is about, and, you know, I apologize, but I'm just so frustrated..."  I told him that I found what he did humiliating, and that my hurt feelings were not related to what he said, but how he said it.  He cut me off again: "I don't understand why you feel that way!  I'm just frustrated about the process!"  We decided to talk more later.  He sent me one of those "sorry that you were offended" bullshit emails, and I repeated that we'd talk later in the week.  I didn't think I could look at his fucking face twice in one day.

I'm sure some people reading this would say that I'm overreacting.  That I'm too sensitive.  "He apologized, what's the big deal?"

I'll tell you what the fucking big deal is.

The big deal is that this man thinks it's ok, just because he's frustrated about an HR process, to belittle a colleague in front of his peers and reports.

The big deal is that these same peers and reports will now think it's ok to treat me the same way he does.

The big deal is this guy has a history of intimidating and bullying his coworkers, and he's never been disciplined for it.

The big deal is that my boss's response to it was, "That's too bad, I'm so sorry!"  In case you were wondering, my boss is also in HR.

The big deal is that if I were a man, this never would have happened.

Oh, yeah, I'm pulling the sexism card.  I'm fucking doing it.  And you know why?  Because it's in my hand, motherfuckers.

I've supported dozens of leaders over the years, nearly all of them men.  I have lost track of the number of patronizing, rude, and downright overtly sexist remarks and attitudes I've witnessed and experienced from almost every single one of them.

There was the guy who once referred to me as a performance management "dominatrix" in front of his team.  The guy who spent an entire meeting staring, quite obviously, at my chest while we were supposed to be discussing talent strategies.  The guy who called me "hot" to my fellow HR coworkers in the office while I was standing 20 feet away (this guy was also in HR, whaddya know!).  The countless, countless managers who have praised male workers for being aggressive go-getters while, in the same breath, suggesting their female reports "tone it down."  I could write a fucking book.

Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of female assholes, too, all over the place.  But while the majority of leadership positions in corporate America are held by men (and yeah, they mostly still are, especially in tech), the majority of assholes I work with will be men, too.  Leaning in is great and dandy, unless you want to avoid assholes and sexism, apparently.

That's the big deal.  Today, this man was such an asshole to me that he made me want to quit my job.  He looked down on me from his position of power and maleness and decided that it was ok to belittle me, the HR girl, because I am not powerful and not male.  And he taught a bunch of other people who look up to him (most of them male) that this is how they should treat me, too.

So I'm done being nice.  I will be Catbert the evil HR cat, if that's what these fuckers want.  I'll give back as good as I get.  I'll be the asshole.  Let's see how they like it.

Windbreaker Pants

About a third of my mornings, I take a later shuttle (meaning it leaves after 7 am) to work, and whenever I do I inevitably encounter Windbreaker Pants Couple.

Windbreaker Pants Couple are, as you may have guessed, in a relationship.  A very close and publicly displayed relationship.  They cuddle while waiting for the bus to arrive, their arms linked.  They take a pair of seats in the front of the bus, their heads bowed towards each other like a pair of doves as they share a soft chuckle over something displayed on one of their mobile phones.  They occasionally kiss, the rest of their coworkers looking on.

I call them Windbreaker Pants Couple because the guy only has one pair of pants, and they are glorious.  They are made of (you guessed it) windbreaker material, with a pattern of grass-green and highlighter-yellow patches.  The waist and ankles are secured by drawstrings, ostensibly so he can tighten them to protect himself from the harsh San Francisco weather.  Again, these are the only pants he owns.  I have never seen him not in these pants.

The sight of Windbreaker Pants Couple always raises so many questions, both practical and metaphysical.  Here's what I would ask Windbreaker Pants Couple if I were capable of working up the physical and emotional courage:

• Where did you get those pants?  Are they a family heirloom, passed down through the generations?
• Do your pants have magical powers?
• How often do you wash your pants? 
• Girlfriend, have you every suggested to him that he might want to invest in another pair of non-windbreaker pants?
• I'm in HR; do you really think cuddling and kissing on the work shuttle is a good idea?
• That being said, you guys look really in love.  That must be great.
• Did you meet at work?  Online?  Seriously, how did you find each other?  Any good dating sites I should try? 
• I'm so lonely.  So, so lonely.  No, I'm not crying, there's just something in my eye. 
• Ahem.  Anyways.  So, as an HR representative I could probably get up a donation fund to buy you some jeans or something. Though I guess windbreaker pants would be really comfortable. 
• (To myself) Hmm, maybe I should get some windbreaker pants?  They seem to bring love and contentment and look non-restrictive.
• (To them) Seriously, though, I'm in HR, please stop kissing on the shuttle.  It's freaking everyone out and also reminding those of us who are single that we are going to die alone.  Also, get some new pants.

I swear that one day I will work up the guts to engage Windbreaker Pants Couple.  On that day, I suspect that many mysteries of the universe will be revealed.  Until that day comes, however, I will simply gaze upon Windbreaker Pants Couple from afar, wondering at their epic love and the enigma of that dude's pants.

So I've had some wine...

...and everyone at work is, like, resigning and I need to get ready for several months of WERK so, whatever, I deserve all the wine.

But as usual when there is wine, I have thoughts.  Here they are, in no particular order:

1.  Olympics: what is the difference between ice dancing and pairs skating?  It appears to be the same except the Americans who are doing the pairs thing are not as good as Davis and White.  Or are they the same thing and I have missed something? CONFUSION.

2.  Olympics thought number 2:  Did you all see that thing where the 2 skiers tied for gold?  That's crazy!  I cried.  Might have been the wine, BUT WHATEVER IT WAS AWESOME, OK?

3.  Olympics thought number 3: So, these people work out like 10 hours a day and I am sitting here drinking wine and eating chocolate.  I feel awesome about myself.

4.  Non-olympics thought: I have four weddings to go to this year.  I should probably stop drinking wine and work out more.

5.  THE VERONICA MARS MOVIE IS COMING OUT SOON!  This is like all I have to look forward to in life...yay?

6.  I should start my taxes.

7.  Wow, these Russians are really good at skating.

8.  Have I really had that much wine?

Thirteen years

When I was sixteen years old, I had my first full-blown encounter with depression, a disease that has followed me from high school, to college, to my first job (still my only job); from dorm rooms to roommates to my first one-bedroom; from the West coast, to the East coast, and back again.

I remember crying so hard that I thought I'd blinded myself with tears on the floor of my childhood bedroom.  I remember one of my college roommates dragging me to the campus health center as I blubbered and babbled.  I remember breakdowns in a dizzying array of bathrooms - high school bathrooms, lecture hall bathrooms, grimy nightclub toilet stalls.  I recall many impromptu outdoor walks at my office campus spent sobbing and staggering, incoherently wailing on my cell phone to my poor, beleaguered mother.  

I remember going on meds and the elation of the cloud lifting for the first time.  I remember thinking I was "better" and could go off them on my own, leading, of course, to a sudden drop back down the familiar black hole.  I remember doing this two or three times until I finally realized that I needed the meds, that I would always need them, that I could very possibly die without them.

I remember five or six failed attempts at therapy with awful practitioners; women who thought that if I could just eat better and exercise more and meditate daily I would be fine.  I remember thinking that if one more therapist told me to eat more fruit and meditate I actually would kill myself.

I remember wanting to kill myself, more times than I can count.

Most of all, I remember this week last year.  In late January of 2013, I had what I now think of as "The Big Breakdown."  We had some sort of awful week-long work meeting with "planning" and "strategy" and a million people milling around everywhere, asking, "How are you, it's been so long," and I lost it it.  I got a migraine that turned into a flu that turned into a bleeding, aching hole in my chest out of which my depression screamed "DIE DIE DIE YOU ARE NOTHING." I made some sort of minor mistake at work and lost my shit.  My boss at the time, bless her heart, had no idea what to do with me, but was compassionate when I realized I needed to get some help and didn't guilt trip me about what happened next.

I took two weeks of medical leave.  My poor beleaguered mother flew out to stay with me, and she helped me get what I needed.  She listened to me when I cried, and she helped me make and keep therapy and doctor appointments.  She walked with me in Golden Gate park and watched TV with me and took me to IKEA to buy a side table for my living room, which was something I desperately needed, apparently.  She washed my dishes.

I found, for the first time in over a decade, an amazing therapist.  I had begun to think that they didn't exist, but they do, and he is one of them.  I got a new diagnosis and new meds and they helped.

My mother went home, I went back to work, and it was hard.  Really hard.  A year later, it still is.  But I have a therapist now, and my friends, and my family, and the knowledge that after thirteen years of this shit, there are good times in between the bad ones and that I have what I need in place to get through the bad ones.  This past week was a bad one, this Anniversary of The Big Breakdown.  But I survived it, and I can feel myself coming out of it.  It will be ok, for now.

I turned twenty-nine earlier this month, which means it's been thirteen years with this disease.  That's nearly half my life.  I know that I will have this disease as long as I live.  I know that it's a part of me, and that no matter how many times I beat myself up about not being "normal" that this is my normal - and that many others share this normal with me.  And so I try to remember instead that I'm one of the lucky ones.  I have help.  I am lucky.  I am so, so lucky.

I write this not to indulge in self-pity or self-aggrandizement, nor to celebrate my triumph over depression (especially not the latter, because there is no triumph over depression, as any sufferer knows).  I guess that on this Anniversary of The Big Breakdown, and after thirteen years of my brand of normal, it's good to remember where I've been and what I have and to be grateful.  And to take a breath before diving into whatever's next.  Here's to the next thirteen years.



 

I just can't anymore you guys. I cannot.

Seriously, guys.  I just can't with these people.  I know we're supposed to be calm, and collected, and engage in serious debate, but I just...no wonder people go rage-y on the news and in comment boards.

Last night, Texas went all to shit and it's no surprise, considering the progress of things in Ohio and Wisconsin of late.  People yelled, and tampons were confiscated, and shitty people gloated, and I went to bed early because I Just. Cannot. Anymore.

People love to employ the trope of the "angry feminist."  And sometimes, we feminists make it easy, because we are angry.  GUYS, WE ARE SO ANGRY I CANNOT EVEN TELL YOU.  We are angry because no matter what progress is made, hatred, devaluation, exploitation, and belittling of women is still everywhere.  Even in America.  It's in workplaces, and doctor's offices, and government chambers, and homes, and schools.  It's in the act of walking down the street near my home in San Francisco at 7 pm when it is still light out and being called a "cunt" because I won't smile at the drunken homeless man on the corner who makes a lewd comment.  And last night, it was in the actions of the Texas state senate, which not only passed a bill that will (if enacted) severely restrict TX women's access to safe and legal abortions, but also refused to entertain amendments that would otherwise help women and families (sex education improvements, funding to update clinics, exceptions to the bill for women's health).  If you care about or even remotely like women and the quality of their health care, you do not pass this bill and you certainly don't reject all amendments out of hand that would improve women's lives.  So yeah, we're angry.  When people are detested and held down because of their skin color or ethnic background or which set of reproductive organs they possess, they tend to get fucking angry.

I get that people don't like abortion and vehemently oppose it.  I get it!  You know what?  I don't like abortion either!  It sucks!  It's a traumatic process, and is usually being performed because of less-than-ideal (unwanted pregnancy due to BC failure or lack of BC, no financial or other resources to birth or raise a child) or outright tragic (serious birth defect, result of rape or incest, mother going to die) circumstances.  However, if human history, medical science, and common fucking sense are any indication, its existence is critical to the overall health of the female population.  If you are not a woman choosing to get one, it is also (according to the Supreme Court and, you know, personal autonomy) none of your fucking business.  

So why do so many conservative lawmakers make it their business?  Do they really think our idea of a fun Saturday is to head to the abortion clinic with our gal pals with the theme to Sex and the City playing on our iPods?  Do they think we all have those cards like you use at Panera: "Get nine abortions and your tenth is free?!"  I know they don't care about kids, because once they're born many extreme conservatives would rather let them die of a preventable illness than pay a bit more in taxes to get them affordable health care.  I know they don't care about life because they refuse to support reasonable gun control laws and love executing incarcerated criminals.  So my conclusion is that, if they're men, they really just hate us.  If they're women, they really just hate themselves.  

So what do I, a woman with a brain, do in the face of such hatred?  I give up on tolerance and calmness of manner.  I just don't care anymore; I can't care and be measured, because it is damned exhausting.  I don't respect your views, and I don't respect you.  You hate me because of mine, and also (mainly) because I have a vagina.  So why the fuck should I turn the other cheek?  What the hell: I hate you too. If you are anti-choice, go fuck yourself.  Or die.  Whatever works. Because I. Just. Can't. Anymore. You. Guys.

What I learned on my summer vacation

I spent this past week in NH with my family, just chilling out.  I haven't been on vacation since Christmas, unless you count the two weeks of medical leave in February when my mom had to come stay with me in SF because my medication stopped working and I was severely depressed and generally not ok, which I don't. Overall, it wasn't very eventful - went to see some movies, slept a lot, went to the beach, slept some more, read a crappy novel, drank some wine, pet the dog, ate potato salad.  It was nice.

I was supposed to leave this afternoon for SF from Logan.  My parents very kindly drove me down to the airport.  Online, it said my flight was only delayed an hour, but of course when I got there it was canceled due to terrible, terrible things happening.  So now I am due to fly on Tuesday, all flights tomorrow being completely booked.

What was weird, though, is that my first emotion upon learning I couldn't fly out tonight was unadulterated panic at not being in the office tomorrow.  I found myself freaking out, thinking, "But I have meetings!  They will be mad if I am not there!  I will get in trouble!"  My heart rate rose and I started sweating like a damned pig.  It took me five minutes to talk sense into myself and realize that I would just have to work remotely tomorrow and Tuesday morning and then fly back Tuesday afternoon and, you know, NO ONE WOULD DIE (and, also, probably no one would be mad).   It would be fine.  I re-booked my flight and came back home.

It got me thinking, though, about my relationship to my job.  I have worked for my present company for six years (come August) and have always done well.  I've been promoted several times and have more responsibility and all sorts of good stuff.  I've only rarely had a manager who was weird about working remotely or scheduling issues or taking vacation.  And yet, I'm ALWAYS terrified that I am going to get fired.  Every. Single. Day.  It's not a mild anxiety, mind you - it's a pure terror.  Every quarter we get a performance review, and every quarter I hear some variation of the same story: "you're doing great, you have things to work on and here they are, but you are awesome at xyz and are great at these things so have a good quarter."  And EVERY quarter, I dread that meeting as if it is the Red Wedding.  I have nightmares about getting fired, thrown out on my ass, being told that I am terrible and useless and a waste of space.  This past week, on vacation, I had a nightmare almost every night about work.  The dreams are always similar: someone in a position of authority (one of my managers or a senior-level client) telling me that I've made a terrible mistake or messed something up and that they know this is a hard message to hear but today is my last day. And I wake up in a cold sweat and remember that it wasn't real...and fall back asleep to resume the next horror-firing scenario.

This isn't normal, right?  Other people don't live in constant dread of losing their job for non-existent reasons?  I mean, it would be one thing if my company weren't doing well and there were layoffs, or if I'd ever been given feedback that would lead me to believe that I was doing poorly, but...this is not the case.  Like, it is not normal for me to say to myself: "Ok, there was a tragic crash at my home airport that means I will have to come home from my vacation a couple days later than planned and work remotely in the meantime - THEY ARE SO GONNA FIRE ME FOR THIS!"  These are insane thoughts, right?

I'm not sure what to do about them.  I guess I should talk to my therapist about it more openly (YES I AM A YUPPIE WOMAN IN SF WITH A THERAPIST, DEAL WITH IT) because what I'm really worried about is what is going to happen if and when I do get fired from a job one day.  Let's be honest, it will probably happen - I'll be in a job that isn't right for me, or I'll get laid off, or the aliens will come to destroy us and all the employers will shut down because, you know, ALIENS.  How will I react then?  Will I collapse and never leave my bed again because something bad actually happened?  Will I become a hippie barista and open a coffee shop that only serves organic coffee made from beans grown in a cave off the coast of Ireland and flown over to the U.S by kite?  Will I join a startup (this last one seems most likely, actually)?

In any case, what I learned on my summer vacation is that I am batshit crazy per the usual, so...nothing new, I suppose.  I'm off to bed soon to prepare for my day of working remotely and steeling myself for the inevitable firing ;)

An Open Letter to Scott Walker

  

Dear Scotty (can I call you Scotty?  I'm going to call you that, OK?), 

I greatly dislike you.  This should not come as a shock, given that I am a hedonist liberal woman under thirty living in San Francisco with All The Gays, and you are...Scott Walker.  I know this is Way Harsh Tai, but, Scotty, I think you are politically shortsighted, unintelligent, and unfeeling toward your fellow humans, and the fact that you are the governor of an entire state frightens me.  The way I feel about you running Wisconsin is the same way I felt during Aladdin when Jafar was the Sultan for a hot minute: scared and disgusted.  

This is how I imagine you in my nightmares.

That being said, we do have one thing in common - we are both concerned about women's health and well-being, or so we both say.  Yesterday, you signed a bill into law in Wisconsin requiring women seeking legal abortions to undergo an ultrasound before the procedure.  You signed the bill in private, doubtless to avoid the inevitable cheering crowds of grateful women who would have gathered to watch you enact a piece of legislation that will "improve... [their] ability to make an informed choice that will protect [their] physical and mental health now and in the future."  

You and the inevitable crowds of thankful women.

In general, I think it is admirable to help women protect their physical and mental health.  I am glad that we share this common goal!  However, I am a bit confused as to how forcing a woman who has made a difficult decision to end a pregnancy to undergo an unnecessary and invasive medical procedure will help her improve her physical and mental health.  Last I heard, ultrasounds did not have any magical healing powers, and making a woman feel extra-guilty about ending a pregnancy by making her look at the non-viable material in her uterus doesn't seem like it would do too much for her mental well-being.  I mean, I spent 50 minutes last week with my therapist discussing my extreme guilt at forgetting to bring a bottle of wine to my friend's dog's birthday picnic; I can't even imagine how many years it would take to get over having to look at the clump of cells in my uterus via ultrasound just ONE MORE TIME before having an abortion.

If you are serious about improving women's mental and physical health, may I suggest some alternate solutions?  Here are a few just off the top of my head: 

1. Support a single-payer universal healthcare system that would provide preventative care, including family planning and pre-natal care for women, to all Americans.  Or at least get over Obamacare and admit it's here to stay.
2. Work to reduce the stigma of mental illness and work to ensure all Americans, including women, can get treatment for mental disorders such as depression, anxiety, etc. 
3. Partner with your fellow politicians to improve working conditions for women nationally, including equal pay, affordable day care options, and swift responses to workplace discrimination.  It would also be great to standardize a paid maternity leave for women to be with a new child and recover from having a fetus living off of them for 9 months.  Also, paternity leave for fathers and adoptive parents would be great.
4. Watch this movie.

 

Scotty-boy, I'm also very pleased that you want women to be able to make informed choices about their health!  YET ANOTHER AREA OF AGREEMENT BETWEEN US, OMG!  However, I could argue that a woman's difficult choice to end a pregnancy is NOT actually "informed" by an unnecessary and invasive procedure as she's definitely aware that she's pregnant and has made the decision to end that pregnancy.  I'm sure that you just haven't taken a lot of time to think all of this through, because if you and your friends in Texas and Ohio and all over the country had, you might have realized that if you want to "inform" and educate women, you should probably spend time and money and political capital on, you know, improving education (including sexual education) for all women and Americans rather than on making ladies look at a grainy image on a screen.  In fact, the areas you could focus on aren't even limited to the public schoolroom!  You could invest in educating women AND men (please, especially men) on domestic abuse and sexual violence and how to stop it!  You could invest in organizations that teach women about their bodies and how to care for them and respect them and demand respect for others!  You could hire someone to give a seminar on vaginas to every male (and maybe a some females) member of the GOP, since some of them think that vaginas have magical powers!  SO MUCH YOU COULD DO!  And, interestingly enough, improving the standing of women through work in healthcare, women's rights and working conditions, education, and public awareness would all have the trickle-down effect (AND I KNOW HOW YOU LOVE THAT, SCOTTY!) of reducing the need for abortions.  Because, you know what, I get that you don't like them, and that's ok...but Scott, I think, if we pull together, we could prevent so many of them while actually improving women's lives!  WIN-WIN, SCOTTY-POO!  

So yeah, I hope this is constructive commentary, S-Dawg, on our mutual points of concern regarding women's health.  However, I can't help but wonder if maybe the welfare of women isn't your main concern?  You do look like this in my dreams, remember?

God, you are terrifying.  I forgot because we were having such a good time earlier.

I find myself thinking that maybe this isn't about women's health and well-being at all.  It might not even be about SAVING THE BABIES, because, honestly?  Once they are born, you and your buddies don't seem that concerned with what happens to them, Scotty.  If you were, you might be spending more time and energy on all that stuff I listed above with the healthcare and education and shit rather than freaking out about what a woman does with her body. 

And ultimately, I am worried that this may be your actual problem, Scotty - what it is that women are doing with their bodies.  When you think about it, women haven't had much say in that up until a few decades ago. And now we do, and you know what?  I think that scares the ever-loving shit out of you, Scotty.  Most men are cool with women being, you know, full-fledged people now, but for some reason you and a lot of your friends are just freaking the hell out.  I mean, I guess it makes sense, because we are pretty great and that can be a lot to handle.  There are more of us in college than men now, and we are landing plum jobs and moving up the ladder just as quickly as our male counterparts in many instances.  We are waiting to get married and have children, or (gasp!) not getting married or having children at all!  We are having sex for recreational reasons with more than one partner and we are taking birth control while we are doing it.  Hell, we are even reading Fifty Shades of Grey.*   Basically, for the first time in human history, we are actualized and shit and you know what?  You. Can't. Handle. It.

You cannot handle this.

If this is the case, Scotty, then I'm not really sure where we go from here. If history is any indication, you will probably not see the light any time soon.  You will continue to believe that women cannot be trusted to make decisions about their own bodies and will simultaneously neglect to invest time and effort in initiatives that could assist women in living better and making (actually) more informed decisions about their bodies and health.   You will sit in Wisconsin with your parrot...er, advisors, and come up with even more draconian restrictions that will prevent women who need access to legal medical care from receiving the help they need.  You will continue to put the priorities of the rich and the corrupt over those of the middle class and the poor. You will continue to suck the big one. 

You would be pitiable, Scotty, if you didn't have so much power just now.  But you do, so all women can do is continue to run for, and win, some of the highest offices in the land, and filibuster insane legislation in badass sneakers, and be amazing Secretaries of State (and hopefully future Presidents), and generally just continue to freak you and your buddies the hell out.  Because, honestly?  I don't think you ready for this jelly, Scotty.

Sincerely, 

J-dawg

*P.S.  WRT Fifty Shades, I would be ok with you passing a bill to outlaw that book, or its reading.  Not on any moral grounds, but it's just really bad Twilight fanfiction and the guy smirks a lot and they drink a lot of wine and email.  So like, if you're going to pass a bunch of bullshit laws, you might as well make one of them mildly useful to humanity. 

You're a monster and I'm gonna stop you SPOILER ALERT

SPOILER ALERT: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN MAN OF STEEL AND WANT TO SEE IT STILL AT SOME POINT IN THEATERS OR ON DEMAND OR NETFLIX OR WHATEVER

I haven't posted in literally 18 months but for some reason I am compelled after seeing Batman Begins Except It's Superman Man of Steel.  I really like movies based on comic books despite the fact that (sorry true blue nerds!) I have never read the source material.  The only comic books I've attempted to read were the Buffy Season 8 series, but I stopped because the guys at the comic book store looked at me weird when I came in to buy them (SEXISM).  All I remember is that the government was after Buffy and the Scoobies and they were in Scotland? And Dawn was a giant?  Anyways.  

So I actually enjoyed Man of Steel, though probably not for the reasons Christopher Nolan & crew intended.  It is gorgeously filmed and Henry Cavill is gorgeous and Kevin Costner is all "if you build it they will come" and the effects are AWESOME.  Despite all of this, the movie is not well-written or edited and is, therefore, unintentionally hilarious.  What follows is my recap of the film through one sort-of-nerd's eyes.  Apologies if I missed something; it was a long movie and I had too much wine afterwards.

A RECAP OF BATMAN BEGINS EXCEPT IT'S SUPERMAN, or, OBVIOUS CHRIST IMAGERY: THE MOVIE MAN OF STEEL, directed by the guy who brought you this travesty of a love scene.  

Part 1, in which Russell Crowe has lost a lot of weight since Les Miserables.

He called Jenny.

We begin on Krypton, which is totally exploding from the Kryptonians (?) draining the planet of all its natural resources or whatever.  Russell Crowe, aka Jor-El, delivers* his own son, Kal-El, while an intelligent version of one of those pin box things you would shove your face in to make patterns in as a kid looks on and gives instruction because alien technology.  Afterwards, he goes to the council of Krypton leaders.

Apparently they don't have tablets on Krypton.

*This is a big deal because on Krypton all the babies are genetically pre-coded for their destiny and grown in a Genesis Chamber, which is basically a giant kelp tank with fetuses in fake uteruses growing on branches.  The genetic codes for every unborn Kryptonian ever are all kept on an old skull fragment, called the Codex, which is in the Genesis Chamber with the fetuses, and it's all kinds of creepy and eugenics-y. 

JOR-EL: So, Krypton is dying.  We should probably go.  We can repopulate later, turns out we've been over-thinking that part--

KRYPTON LEADERS: You're suggesting we evacuate the planet?!

JOR-EL:  Well, we have like ships and technology and stuff, so...yes...?

KRYPTON LEADERS: THAT'S PREPOSTEROUS!

AUDIENCE:  Why are these morons wearing gold umbrella stands on their heads?

This enlightened exchange is interrupted by General Zod who comes in with his soldiers and is all like FUCK YOU, KRYPTON LEADERS, YOU TOTALLY SCREWED US OVER! and proceeds to vaporize some of them.  He's crazy but you gotta admit he has a point here.

Turns out he and Jor-El are TOTAL FRENEMIES (military vs. science, blah blah) and they fight about using the Codex to save all of Krypton's bloodlines vs. only those Zod deems worthy because he's basically Hitler.  Jor-El escapes and flies off on a dragon thing (this part is cool but, alas, no screenshot) to steal the Codex and then head back to Chez-El, where his wife, Faora, is waiting to help him launch their kid to Earth.  She's crying and having second thoughts until he's like, "Honey, I know this is hard but if he stays he dies because we are ALL LITERALLY GOING TO DIE.  Also, they have a yellow sun which is good for his cells and he'll be a Christ figure like a god to them," and then she's like, "I guess that makes sense," and they put Kal in his pod and start preparing it for launch with the help of the pin toy robot butler.  Jor-El converts the Codex into an energy beam which does something (foreshadowing dun dun DUN) to Kal and then he does some more science stuff which creates a Krypton USB Key (this is a thing) and throws it in there to complete the Earth Travel Kit.  As they are firing up the engine, Zod comes in.

ZOD: I'm evil; give me the Codex and I'll let you live!

JOR-EL:  As I keep telling everyone, we are all going to die anyways so, um, not worth it.  Also, the Codex is leaving with Jesus my son and screw you.

ZOD:  You're son's totally going to be a freak and no one is going to play with him!  Also I'm going to kill you! 

They fight and everything while Faora takes care of the pod, and when it's ready to launch Zod's like, "Faora don't do it!" and she hesitates because OH MY GOD WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU HESITATE?  EVERYTHING IS GOING TO HELL WE HAVE BEEN OVER THIS, BITCH, PRESS THE BUTTON!  Finally she does and off goes Kal-El to Kansas FINALLY. Zod is reaaaallly mad and kills Jor-El with a sword and Faora is crying and I forget exactly how but Zod is captured by the Krypton leaders.  They have a trial (Really, guys?  The world is ending and instead of just locking these assholes up and letting them die with everyone else you put them on trial?  Ain't nobody got time for that.) and sentence them to being ice blocks in a black hole for a while, after which time they will starve to death in space post-Krypton destruction (except they won't b/c otherwise there won't be a movie).  Before they are frozen Zod is like I WILL TOTALLY FIND YOUR SON FAORA and because she is stupid she lets them freeze him and his crew anyways instead of totally killing his ass.  Faora goes home to await destruction and is swallowed in a fireball with her pin toy robot butler by her side as Krypton's core explodes.  Bye, Krypton!  

Part 2, in which Henry Cavill spends 40 days and nights in the desert does manual labor and has flashbacks to his childhood a la Bruce Wayne hanging with criminals and Liam Neeson in Batman Begins.  It doesn't work quite as well here.

Thirty-three years later (well, would you look at that!) on Earth, Clark Kent is wandering around trying to find his destiny.  He is sometimes shirtless, though not often enough if you ask me, which you didn't.  First he's on a fishing boat when an oil rig explodes and in an awesome sequence saves all the workers and looks great doing it.  

This man is on FI-AAHHHHH

He falls into the ocean and flashes back to being a kid and having his x-ray vision and super-hearing and laser eyes completely freak him out to the point where he has to lock himself in the broom closet and they call his mother.  She gets him to calm down while the teacher and the rest of class surround them and whisper about how he's a freak because that's a totally normal thing to do when a 7 year old is having a nervous breakdown in a broom closet, amirite?

Back in the present day, Clark swims to shore, (sadly) steals some clothes, and somehow goes to work at a dive bar where he defends a sweet cocktail waitress from creeps.  He flashes back to being on a schoolbus in his tween years.

FAT BULLY: Hey stupid Clark, what'd you think of the game?

LANA LANG: Leave Clark alone!  We're going to have a great time on Smallville!

FAT BULLY:  I mean, I actually would just like his thoughts on the game.  I'm pretty tame as far as bullies go.

SCHOOLBUS:  AHHHHH I AM GOING OFF A BRIDGE INTO A RIVER!  

Clark saves them all from watery death by pushing the bus to shore and then goes back for the bully.  This turns out to be a bad move as said bully and his mom go to Chez Kent and the mom is all, "My son knows what he saw and HOLY SHIT MARTHA THAT SHIT IS NOT NORMAL, OK?"  If I were Martha, I'd be all like, "By the way, you're welcome for having a NOT DEAD SON!" but instead she's like, "Oh, well, you know how it is with boys, haha, more tea?"  Outside, Clark is mad that he is in trouble for saving like 10 kids' lives because, you know, most people get medals for that shit: 

JONATHAN:  Clark, we talked about this.  The world can't know about your powers because they would lose their shit.  Did you see what they tried to do to that guy in the bat suit in Gotham? 

CLARK: So what, I was supposed to just let them die?

JONATHAN:  Maybe. 

AUDIENCE:  That shit is cold, Jonathan. That shit is cold.

JONATHAN:  Clark, let me add to your emotional turmoil by telling you that you are actually an alien that we found in a pod.  We are not your real parents and all you had with you when we found you was this weird USB key made of a metal not on the periodic table, which, as I don't have to tell you, is some serious shit.  

CLARK: ...

JONATHAN:  So, whoever your real parents were sent you here for a reason and one day you'll figure that out and it's up to you and destiny and you could change the world.  But yeah, like I was saying,  people fear what they don't understand so good luck with that.

CLARK:  This day sucks.

Part 3, in which Clark Kent meets Lois Lane, Elliot Stabler, Toby from the West Wing, maybe the General (I think he was there at this part anyways?), and half the supporting cast of Battlestar Galactica

Lois Lane gets out of a helicopter in the frozen tundra/mountains of Canada, where she is greeted by Helo from BSG, and the cool half of the audience is like, "It's Helo!  Wow, is this all he's done since Dollhouse?"  Helo's like, "Joe will get your bags," and LO AND BEHOLD, "Joe" is Clark Kent!  Lois meets Toby from the West Wing as well as Colonel Elliot Stabler (DUN DUN):  

LOIS:  I'm here to get info on the thing you found even though you tried to stop me!  But the Canadians believe in freedom of the press, so HA!  

COL. STABLER:  I'm not happy to see you here because I hate the Daily Planet and reporters and I hate you, but Toby from the West Wing and Lt. Gaeta, late of BSG, will tell you everything you need to know anyways from our scans.

LT. GAETA:  It's an alien object encased in ice for like a bazillion years so we are not alone.  Are these all the lines I get? 

COL. STABLER:  Basically.

LT. GAETA:  Damn it. 

COL. STABLER:  Ms. Lane, here's your bunk; definitely don't go outside in the dark and scale a glacier to go investigate the alien thing and take pictures, ok?  G'nite. (DUN DUN) 

Lois proceeds to go outside in the dark and scale a glacier to go investigate the alien thing and take pictures.  However, "Joe" has beat her to it and uses his laser eyes to carve a tunnel into what turns out to be an old Kryptonian scout ship, where he sees a USB port that matches his key.  The consciousness of Jor-El appears and tells Clark all about his backstory and the Codex and all that good stuff we've already been over, thank the lord:

JOR-EL: So yeah, you can be the bridge between us and the humans and show them the way and be a Christ figure and that's your destiny and here, I even made you a suit with a cape and this symbol means hope so you are all about hope, son!  

CLARK: Cool.

Like an idiot, Lois gets into a fight with a pin toy robot butler which gives her a nasty abdominal wound.  Luckily, Clark shows up in time to squash the robot and save her and she FREAKS OUT and he's like, "You are hemorrhaging internally so I need to cauterize the wound, sorry," and I'm like, does cauterizing really take care of the internal bleeding?  Anyways, he does this with his laser eyes and she screams and it's a bit disturbing. 

Clark flies the ship to Antarctica or something and, with Jor-El's ghost's guidance, puts on his suit and "tests his limits," and there is a cool scene where he figures out he can fly and this goes on for awhile but it's fun and the expression of glee on Henry Cavill's face is pretty cute.

Later, Lois is back at the Daily Planet, which is apparently the only newspaper in the entire world that is still profitable, and is trying to pitch her "laser eyes super strength man" story to Perry White/Morpheus, who is one of two, count 'em, two black characters** I recall from the entire movie.    He's like, "No, and also Jimmy Olsen is now a girl named Jenny."  Lois is like FINE WHATEVER and leaks her story to a crazy conspiracy theorist blogger and then proceeds to track Clark down via an  INVESTIGATION MONTAGE.  She interviews Helo, and the oil rig guys, and the cocktail waitress, and grown up Fat Bully, who now hilariously manages an IHOP.  She finally finds Clark's mom and then goes to his dad's grave, where Clark meets up with her and is like, please don't out me.  She is touched by his BLUE BLUE EYES and doesn't, and gets into trouble at work for leaking the story to the conspiracy blogger, but Perry White is like, "You're on admin leave and I'm pissed at you, but I know you're telling the truth so I'm glad you're shutting up because if this is what it looks like people are going to lose their fucking minds," and I'm like, IS THIS PART OF THE MOVIE OVER YET?

**The movie's two black characters.

Part 4, in which shit finally gets real (sort of)

Clark goes home to his mom and is like, "I figured out my destiny, sort of!  And don't worry about that reporter, I'm going to hit that, probably."  At NORAD (sadly my friends had to tell me this is what this was, I don't know these things), the second black character, General Swanwick (aka guy who was in the Matrix AND Dollhouse; SO MANY CONNECTIONS!) is getting reports that there is a ship orbiting Earth.  The ship, which is of course General Zod's because DUH, hovers over Metropolis and sends a signal out to all the world saying turn in Kal-El or they all die:  

JENNY OLSEN:  Wow, the evil threat message is even on my NOKIA PHONE!  

The conspiracy theorist goes on TV saying, "We should ask Lois Lane because she totally knows this guy," and the FBI and Col. Stabler show up at her apartment, and Lois is like, "Oh, fuck."  Clark goes to a priest in Kansas for guidance in a scene which is hilarious in its pointlessness:

CLARK:  So, I'm the alien.  Can't trust Zod but can't trust humans either.  Any advice?

PRIEST:  Uhhh...take a leap of faith?

CLARK:  OK.  (Leaves.)

Clark flies to...the desert (?) to meet the General, Col. Stabler, and Toby from the West Wing to turn himself in to the US government.  They take him into custody and put him in an interrogation room with Lois Lane where they sort of flirt and she almost says "superman" and then the general interrupts through the mirror and Clark's like, "Guys, the jig is up, I have x ray vision and can fly and why are we even doing this?"  And the General and Toby and Col. Stabler are all, "Ok, well, we're turning you into Zod," and Clark's like, "Fine, whatever," and the audience is like, "Why did this scene happen?!"  

So they are back in the desert and Clark and the military are waiting for Zod's henchmen and Lois is all, "Don't do this," and Clark is like, "I have to because guilt," and flashes back to when his Dad died...I think?  Maybe?  Or maybe it was later in the movie that he flashes back to this one?  Or earlier?  In any case, the timing of the flashback did not make sense.  Christ, this movie was badly edited.  But in any case at some point Clark flashes back to this so we might as well hear about it now.  Teen Clark is in the car with his parents and Hank the dog:

TEEN CLARK:  I HATE YOU DAD AND YOU ARE NOT MY REAL PARENTS ANYWAYS AND I AM A WHINY TEEN.

MARTHA: Clark!  You are being a little bitch again!  

JONATHAN:  No, he's right, we're not his parents, but he's going to seriously regret his bitchiness in a minute so let it go.

HANK:  Ugh humans.

A tornado suddenly comes and all the traffic stops and Jonathan helps marshall everyone to hide under an overpass for safety when Martha freaks out because they left Hank in the car, right in the tornado's path. 

JONATHAN:  I will risk my life for the dog!  Clark, stay here with your mom! 

TEEN CLARK: But...there's a tornado...and it's just a dog...seriously?!

HANK: Fuck you, man.

After nearly being crushed to death by a car, Jonathan rescues Hank, who runs to safety with Martha under the overpass.  Then, instead of RUNNING TO SAFETY, Jonathan just STANDS THERE LIKE A COMPLETE FREAKING IDIOT and holds up his hand to Clark all, "No, son, let me go," and lets the tornado blow him away FOR NO LEGITIMATE REASON WHATSOEVER.

TEEN CLARK:  KAAAAAAAHHHHHNNNNN!!!!  NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

HANK:  This is awkward.

So, that was the flashback and it is the most frustratingly ridiculous superhero origin-story parental death ever in the history of film ugh.

Back in the present, Clark says, "I let my father die, even though it was mostly the result of my parents' joint stupidity, so I'm going to go to Zod to save Earth." (I think?  In any case, later in the movie he goes into danger again and maybe uses the flashback as an excuse at that point, who knows.)  Lois is like, "Ok then," and finally a ship comes with Zod's bitchy henchwoman to take Clark away.  The General and Col. Stabler are like, "So, Earth and Zod, we're cool now, right?"  BUT it turns out Zod also wants Lois Lane because *reasons*.  Lois agrees to go because Zod is an evil space alien with unlimited firepower so...limited options there.  Clark gives Lois his USB key and they go up to the mothership and Zod is like "I AM ZOD***!  You triggered a signal with your USB key and so we found you after 33 years of searching so here we are MWAHAHA!"

***I AM ZOD!

Upon exposure to the Kryptonian atmosphere inside the ship, Clark becomes weak and passes out and then Zod goes into his mind and is all, "Give me the Codex and join me and we will rebuild Krypton on the bones of humanity!" and Clark is all: 

UM NO THANKS

So Zod's like, "your loss" and has one of his henchmen take some of Clark's blood to figure out why he is so strong on Earth.  Meanwhile, Lois is being held prisoner in a chamber with no guards because that strategy always works out well for villains.  She sees a USB port and plugs in the key and Jor-El appears and is like,  "Honey, I got this, just do what I say," and he awesomely takes over the ship and opens doors and helps her get into an escape pod while he turns the ship back to human eco-levels.  Strong again, Clark kicks the shit out of everyone and flies Christ-like out into space to save Lois as she falls to Earth.

Are you guys getting this yet?

Zod is SUPER MAD and decides to go down with some of his posse to harass Clark's mom and destroy her house and barn to find out where the Codex is when Clark shows up and a BIG BATTLE SCENE begins because Clark is like "OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST ATTACK MY MOTHER.  COME AT ME BRO!"  The battle scene is basically Clark and Zod flying at each other and banging into shit and throwing each other all around Kansas and Fat Bully's IHOP and this goes on for quite awhile.  The army shows up under the lead of Col. Stabler and they proceed to make things EVEN WORSE for everyone by firing at Clark in addition to Zod and his posse and the audience is like SMH.  Eventually Zod's protective helmet thing comes off and he is overwhelmed by his senses and has to go back up to his ship, so Clark fights two of his henchmen including this super evil bitch who Just. Will. Not. Die.  After tons of things blowing up and flying and crashing and the army and Col. Stabler getting in the way (DUN DUN), the henchmen also finally leave.  The army people approach Clark with their weapons but are uncertain what to do.

COL. STABLER: This man is not our enemy.

CLARK:  NO SHIT, SHERLOCK. 

AUDIENCE: So this is the first Earth battle scene.  That means we have, what, at least like 2 or 3 left?  Jesus.

Part 5, in which I am sorry I started this recap because JESUS CHRIST this movie was long and confusingly edited

Back on Zod's ship, Zod has figured out from his henchman's blood test that the Codex is actually inside Clark himself (remember the foreshadowing from earlier?)...and Zod doesn't need Clark alive to to resurrect the Kryptonian race!  OH NOES!  He tells his peeps to deploy the "World Machine," and then goes to the scout ship to reprogram it and take it to repopulate the Kryptonian species.  He argues with the ghost of Jor-El about morals and genocide for a bit and it's boring and finally he delete's Jor-El's consciousness file and is like, SHOWTIME, BITCHES.

I am still evil and this movie is still happening.

(Note: at some point in here there was another flashback to Clark being teased by actual bullies and not fighting back and Jonathan being like, good job!  But I don't remember when it came into play or why exactly it was relevant but just noting it because I TAKE THIS SHIT SERIOUSLY, ALRIGHT?)

Zod's ship goes to Metropolis and the World Machine goes to the opposite side of the Earth in the Indian Ocean (I think?) and they start doing a joint pulsing magnet thing which sends a shockwave of destruction throughout Metropolis.  It is like Independence Day but a lot slower and lamer.  At NORAD, the General and Toby from the West Wing and some Military Chick are looking at Science Readouts: 

We are doing science.

Dr. Toby determines that Zod is terraforming so he can kill all the humans and remake Krypton on their bones.  Luckily, Jor-El's ghost foresaw this exact situation (?) and told Lois how to stop it, and Lois told Clark (who is now going by "Superman," finally), and they have a pow-wow with the General, Dr. Toby, and Col. Stabler to go over the details:

CLARK:  Here's the deal: we can send them back to the Phantom Zone, using--

DR. TOBY: --a singularity!  YES! SCIENCE!  All we need to do deploy the pod you were found in with your USB key and against Zod's ship here in Metropolois...

CLARK:  ...and I'll go to the Indian Ocean to stop the World Machine...

DR. TOBY: ...AND ZOD AND HIS WHOLE CREW WILL BE SUCKED INTO A BLACK HOLE!  President Bartlett will be so proud!

COL. STABLER:  That's a viable plan.  

AUDIENCE:  What...but...what the fuck?  How so?

LOIS:  Clark, this is so dangerous!  Don't do it! 

CLARK:  Well, like I said earlier (or maybe now, who knows when that flashback actually happened, fucking editors), I let my dad die to save a dog and I'm semi-guilty and tortured about it, so I'm not going to let Earth down, ok?

LOIS:  Fine, we still have two battle scenes left, let's do this. 

Meanwhile, in Metropolis, Perry White and Jenny Olsen and some other guy are running from the destruction while  Lois and the military are in a plane trying to deploy the pod to stop Zod using Science.  There's a very tense buildup and a battle and there's a showdown between Col. Stabler and Zod's super-bitchy hench woman who will Just. Not. Die. as they approach Zod's ship and Lois tries to get the USB key into the port.  

DR. TOBY:  WHY ISN'T IT WORKING?

LOIS:  Something's wrong!  It's supposed to go all the way in!

AUDIENCE: That's what she said.

Eventually, Dr. Toby figures out that you have to close the damned pod for the USB key to go in and the whole apparatus to be activated for...science.  Col. Stabler sacrifices himself and most of his crew (and finally kills the stupid bitchy hench woman) and flies the plane, pod and all, into Zod's ship, just as Clark has destroyed the World Machine after an epic struggle.  Perry and Jenny are saved just in time.  Lois falls from the plane and of course Clark is there to save her, and then he is off to fight Zod who has shown up with his scout ship.  Zod is all, "if you destroy this ship, you destroy Krypton!" and Clark is all, "Eh, Krypton had its shot," and then he uses laser eyes to blow up the Genesis Chamber and crash the ship.  The world is saved!  Everyone is happy!  Lois and Clark reunite in the rubble outside Metropolis!  They kiss! Perry and Jenny and the other guy look on and are like GO GIRL YOU GET THAT KRYPTONIAN ASS!   

LOIS:  They say it's all downhill after the first date.

CLARK:  I think that only applies to humans.

AUDIENCE:

OBVIOUSLY Zod is not dead and he reappears and makes more threats and throws Superman to the ground.

CLARK:  You're a monster, Zod, and I'm gonna stop you.

AUDIENCE:

Now begins the FINAL BATTLE SCENE, where Superman and Zod proceed to TOTALLY DESTROY LIKE HALF OF METROPOLIS, because Superman couldn't have made the tiniest effort to move the fight anywhere else sparing millions of dollars in additional property damage and possibly thousands of lives? 

"This seems like a good place for an epic battle!" -No one.

They fight for a while and the end up in Grand Central Station some train station in Metropolis, where a Cute Wittle Family is...hanging out?  Anyways, Zod is like I WILL DESTROY THEM WITH MY LASER EYES!  And Clark is like NOOOOOOO and grabs Zod and has him in a choke hold and FINALLY SNAPS HIS NECK AND ZOD IS DEAD THANK GOD THE MOVIE MUST BE ALMOST OVER.

Lois comes in and Clark is like tortured by having killed Zod...for...some reason?  And this is the face he makes:

I AM UPSET FOR SOME REASON THAT I SAVED THE WORLD  AHHHHH!

And he hugs Lois and Metropolis is mostly in ashes and...that's that scene.

Part 7, in which I am going to go drink wine now

We cut to Clark's dad's grave, where Clark and Martha are bonding post-near-apocalypse:

MARTHA:  Your dad really thought you were going to be a force for good and that people would know about you and you would be great you know.

CLARK:  Really?  Then, what was with all those mixed messages, and the whole "No one can know! They won't understand you" and dying to save a dog, and telling me to let those kids die, and--

MARTHA:  That's not important right now.  So what's your plan now, kid?

CLARK:  Well, I need a job where I can go anywhere dangerous at a moment's notice and also a disguise, so I'm thinking journalist at a newspaper and...glasses?

MARTHA:  That oughta do it. 

THE END OF THE MOVIE THANK JESUS SUPERMAN

I'm thinking of recording this...

...anyone have any equipment?  It's a parody of Taylor Swift's "We are Never Ever Getting Back Together" and is a good summary of how many ladies feel about politics this week, I believe.

I remember when you Repubs said, ladies,

The war on women isn’t really real, now we’d 
Love it if you’d let us tell you what
You should do with your bodies. (What?)
Then you came around again and said
"Ladies, we miss you and we swear we’re gonna change, trust me."
But remember how Paul Ryan tried to say
That there are different types of rape? We’re not stupid.

Oooh we gave to Obama last night
And oooh, for the last time we’re telling you, we’re telling you

We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
You can go on Fox News, spew some more lies, have a Tea Party

And we are never ever ever ever gonna vote for Romney.

Like, ever...

Remember when we tried to call you out
And you insisted that you only care about
The e-conomy, which actually would be helped if you
Stopped trying to take away our healthcare.

Oooh, we gave to Planned Parenthood last night
And oooh, for the last time we’re telling you, we’re telling you

We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
You can go on Fox News, spew some more lies, have a Tea Party

And we are never ever ever ever gonna vote for Romney.

Oooh yeah, oooh yeah, oooh yeah
Oh oh oh

I used to think that you could get it together
And I used to say, "Never say never..."
Huh, so Todd Akin goes on the air is all like, "I misspoke”
And I'm like... "I just... I mean this is exhausting, you don't even know how the uterus works,
and I am never voting for your party. Like, ever"

No!

We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
You can go on Fox News, spew some more lies, have a Tea Party

And we are never ever ever ever gonna vote for Romney.

We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney
We are never ever ever gonna vote for Romney

You can go on Fox News, spew some more lies, have a Tea Party

And we are never ever ever ever gonna vote for Romney.

How to impress people at work without having a clue what you're doing (a response to Molly Templeton's call for "how to" articles by women)

Here's how to impress coworkers and bosses at your company without having a damned clue what the hell you're doing.

1.  Memorize all the acronyms.  This doesn't necessarily mean you have know what all the acronyms represent; just remember the acronyms themselves and use them as often as possible.  Why?  Because nobody has the damnedest idea what any of them could possibly mean.  However, if you throw enough of them around, you will *sound* as if you know what you're going on about, and people will treat you with reverence and fear.  If anyone is ballsy enough to ask you to define an acronym, no problem - simply comply and define said acronym with yet another acronym.  This has never failed me.  For example: 

Me:  Hey, Bob, are you going to the sync at 1:30 on the GBS team's HBC project council?

Bob:  Yeah, I think so - what's the HBC project council's mission again?

Me:  Oh, last week at the GBS team's weekly PSS meeting they explained how the HBC council will be working to refine the XPC's PSM ratings framework.  (Awkward pause) Oh, did you not make that meeting, Bob?  

Bob:  *Mumbles unintelligibly and shuffles away*

2.  Always be rushing somewhere.  Nothing gives the impression that you are very busy and important more so than being constantly in a hurry, even if you're just going to the kitchen to get a coffee to sip while reading gossip blogs back at your desk.  I once knew a woman in my office who jogged everywhere she went.  She would literally *sprint* from her desk to the printer - which was three feet from her desk - at least four times a day with such an expression of thunder on her face that one might imagine her printouts contained nuclear codes or the location of Osama Bin Laden's secret lair.  For over a year, we all assumed she was the busiest and most productive worker on our team - until one day, I happened to amble by while she was sprinting over to the printer and discovered her collecting a stack of Banana Republic "Friends and Family" discounts.  After watching her for a few days, I realized that most of her printouts were for coupons, movie or theater tickets, and pictures of her kids.  She still works at my company and has been promoted to manager.   

Well, I sure learned my lesson.  Today, when my Fandango ticket for the Dark Knight Rises was printing, I booked it over to that HP DeskJet in record time.  The admin who sits across the hall from me was visibly impressed.

3.  Know how to do v-lookup and a pivot table.  Excel baffles most people, me included.  However, I can do a v-lookup and a simple pivot table.  Therefore, most of my colleagues think that I am a GENIUS.  It has been scientifically verified that 98.23% of individuals outside of the Finance department at your company don't know how to do anything in excel other than scroll, add an autofilter, and look stuff up using ctrl-F.  However, if you can do a v-lookup, a pivot table, or both, and get someone to see you doing it, you will never, ever get fired.  Why?  Because, my friend, you have got mad technical skills that your department cannot lose.  That, at least, is what they will say in your performance review.  

And, finally, the most surefire tip of them all: 

4.  Stay signed into your work chat 24/7.  Sure, you won't actually be working, but there's no better way to show your team that you are a workaholic who puts the company's welfare above your sleep and personal sanity than that little dot next to your name being any color but grey at all hours.  Even the "orange" of idle is better than nothing, because, for all anyone else knows, you just stepped away to get coffee.  You'll be back!  Or maybe you're on a videoconference or a Skype call.  Who knows?  All anyone (and the IT department) knows is that you (or at least your computer, phone, or tablet) are connected to your corporate network at 3 a.m. PT on a Wednesday - and that shows commitment, damn it. 

Enjoy your corporate success!

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