Sasha talks politics

Who says the mother must be good? What is it in she that demands 'good'? She is simply woman. The mother is nothing short of her own person, sometimes indulgent of her flaws. Why must 'mother' and 'woman' be differnt than 'man' and 'father'? These are not so different. Gender and breeding play their part, but what more? The woman is the mother is the life. She cannot be good always. She is a person and she is entitled to her faults, shortcomings and life. Because she gives life, is she not also right to take it, direct it, dictate it? Her own and others. She can be a bad character, and a more interesting person.

today was

rough. Acting is hard.

Femme Fatale

There is something inherently dangerous about being a woman. Whether it’s danger to you or simply the danger you offer, it’s there. And what’s the difference really? If he can get off just by claiming the “she was asking for it.”? We all know it’s true. No matter how liberal, how feminist, there’s always that small, quietly screaming voice in the back of your mind that asks what she was doing dressed like that in such a shady place so late at night. The woman serves the man. Protect him, protect his rights, protect his reputation. Even if it costs you your own.

But I won’t get ahead of myself.

What I’m really talking about is the danger we offer just by being born our gender. There’s something mysterious, seductive, risky, about most women. It’s bred into us from the start. It can get a girl into a lot of trouble. You wake up one morning and forget to look right, fill in the wrong blanks, and bam, it’s all over. There’s the questioning, the confusion, heartbreak, god forbid- the tears. Yours of course. Because a smart woman keeps a few of those on reserve at all times. Even if it’s your fault, you forgot to check the glass, if you cry, most guys will feel instinctive guilt. It comes in handy. Cry for Michael and he’ll forget the issue instantly.

It’s all a bit silly, really. They don’t care about you, no more than you care about them. It’s pride, I think.

It’s all about being born a woman. You can’t win, so you might as well do your best to just play along. When you’re driving and get cat called at the stop light, don’t get pissy and fly a bird; that’s no way to win. Look over, smile, pull down the sun glasses. Give those hicks something to whistle at. The power is in your face. The power is in your control. Let the boys yell, at least they’re distracted while your hands grab the wallet. And the wheel.

Sasha goes to a wedding

Every one from high school is fat.

I went to this wedding this weekend and I highly suggest them as ego boosts to those who have managed to keep their slim figure through the post H.S years. I ended up at this 'show' through a work relation with one of the Bride's younger siblings and, well, it's a long story really and it's not this story.
Brother 1 (my date) was playing usher and sat me in the back (far from the family) with Brother 2's date. Or, as he put it, "My brother's latest casual sexual encounter". Nice. Bride looked pretty as a princess. She was in the pop crowd when we were tweens and with all of her old cronnies present, I couldn't help but feel like she was treating this like the best prom ever. Only, she's the only one in a nice dress and she just got voted queen.

The reception was down home small towntastic. 5 kegs of Natty Light and free Franzia was a-flowin'. To set them apart from the rest of us, the bridal party was drinking out of extra large Mason jars. All the pop girls changed into thier cheetah print party gear for the dancing. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Dancing didn't come until after we'd eaten to 'blotation' on catered hamburgers and hotdogs.

I didn't dance. But I did get to sit next to girls from my old class and catch up on all the gossip. For the record, 4 of the 7 girls at the table are expecting, 2 are engaged, and 3 (total) know exactly who their baby daddy is. Like I said, free beer.

Tattoos

When you have a tattoo, people seem to think they have a right to look at it. Or worse, know what it's about. I cannot tell you how many times I've been standing in line at the grocery store, minding my own business, balancing my organic soy chocolate milk and my vodka when I feel someones cold clamy fingers pulling down the edge of my shirt. It's bizarre. Like, hey, how are you? Your hand is in my top. What the hell is wrong with you and do you plan on buying my drinks? By the way, I'm Sasha. Nice to meet you.
It's like these kids didn't learn basic manners.
Look, okay, I have a tattoo, you have a tattoo, we're brothers on some level, sure, but we aren't that close. You have a coy fish and chinese symbols. You're white. You'll live in this godforsaken town for the rest of your life. I have ambitions, motivations, I aspire to things greater than what are refleced in your rockin' dragon tat.
The point is this: stop touching me.

Bedside table

I can always tell who is laying on my left side by taking a quick glance to the right. It's all about the cup. Heavy glass Deskey with the glucose design? Landon. Black and red mug? Michael. Half empty whiskey glass? Andy. It saves a lot of awkward moments of confusion. Just make sure to wake up to the right, check the cup, roll over and with a flirty, sleep in my voice smile, "Morning (name here)." Follow up with an ironic, "How'd you sleep?"

Each cup says a lot about each boy.

Andy and his whiskey. Just imagine what kind of guy wastes that much alcohol every time he's with me. It's not like he gargles the remainder of his nightcap in the morning. And let me just say, Andy isn't cheap.

Michael using a mug. Who knows what that says. He's a little simplier maybe, but I'm biased, I know. Hearty, perhaps.

Deskey. Oh, Deskey. How modern of him. Does it help that it's only water and that he reaches over me to sip while he thinks I'm sleeping. I need this boy as much as he needs me. Which isn't really very much on either side.

So, the leason? Always look right first, things will be much less awkward if you fill in with the right name.

I woke up this morning and realized that I was not late for work. I also realized that I was in bed alone. This is unusual.

I'm studying acting, and I mean, you've gotta get the lifestyle down first. Haven't been sober in a few days. I'm working on breaking some records here. How long has it been? No.Idea. It's hard to have a solid idea about much these days. For obvious reasons.

Palin

asks that we respect her teenaged daughter's choice to keep her child. Palin also says that she would "veto a woman's choice to an abortion even in cases of rape..."
Right, we should definately respect her family's choice and support her plans to deny us the same choice.

I

would like you all to know:
I love you as best I can