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I'm vibrating with rage right now over the collected weight of existing outside of my own home.
It started with the nonsense about Black Widow, the bullshit nonsense of the press tour that I have largely avoided by not reading or listening to anything from it, the questions about diet and Natasha's sexiness and her place with ~*~all those men~*~, and then two of Johansson's castmates calling Natasha slut and a whore. Even as a joke, even if it did come as the product of their own frustration at that line of questioning, it was still a slap, and that only one of them apologized with anything like sincerity was a nice little follow-up pinch on the bruise.
It went on to include standing in lines trying to pick something up with men on either side intruding into my personal space to the point where I stuck my elbows out and stared at them without apparently making my meaning clear. While I asked a man my own age to get out of my bubble and got laughed at by an older man standing two behind him, Jessie's Girl played over the store's loudspeakers, that whining entitled ode to a woman who is referred to as nothing but the possession of another man. Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine!
Then home, home I go, forced to listen at a stoplight to the ravings of another white man declaring any woman who dressed inappropriately to be an abomination in the Eyes Of God. When he shouted "Can you bare yourself and truly say you are a lady?" I rolled down my window and screamed "Yes!" loud enough to make my throat hurt for a moment, thanking the deity who apparently doesn't hate me all that much for giving me a green light to get away.
His shout still followed me through the intersection: "I would say no!"
There are days where I feel like becoming a statistic. There are moments where I wonder what it would be like to just burn it all down. This day is one of them, and I want it to be over.
I'm going to go watch Orphan Black.
It started with the nonsense about Black Widow, the bullshit nonsense of the press tour that I have largely avoided by not reading or listening to anything from it, the questions about diet and Natasha's sexiness and her place with ~*~all those men~*~, and then two of Johansson's castmates calling Natasha slut and a whore. Even as a joke, even if it did come as the product of their own frustration at that line of questioning, it was still a slap, and that only one of them apologized with anything like sincerity was a nice little follow-up pinch on the bruise.
It went on to include standing in lines trying to pick something up with men on either side intruding into my personal space to the point where I stuck my elbows out and stared at them without apparently making my meaning clear. While I asked a man my own age to get out of my bubble and got laughed at by an older man standing two behind him, Jessie's Girl played over the store's loudspeakers, that whining entitled ode to a woman who is referred to as nothing but the possession of another man. Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine!
Then home, home I go, forced to listen at a stoplight to the ravings of another white man declaring any woman who dressed inappropriately to be an abomination in the Eyes Of God. When he shouted "Can you bare yourself and truly say you are a lady?" I rolled down my window and screamed "Yes!" loud enough to make my throat hurt for a moment, thanking the deity who apparently doesn't hate me all that much for giving me a green light to get away.
His shout still followed me through the intersection: "I would say no!"
There are days where I feel like becoming a statistic. There are moments where I wonder what it would be like to just burn it all down. This day is one of them, and I want it to be over.
I'm going to go watch Orphan Black.
