2008 In Review

Given that I have been posting daily for three years now, I feel justified in using a year in review post as a cheater escape to avoid actually talking about something today, because I feel like some of my better posts probably get lost in the sheer volume of material here. Maybe I will start a page with “best of” posts for the edification of new readers. At any rate, here are 12 posts from the year which I think were particularly good/interesting.

In January, I talked about being compared to bacon: “‘She looks just like a big slab of bacon,’ one of them was saying as I took out the garbage on my way into town to pay the rent, and a gale of deep throated male laughter arose, the kind of laughter that makes me nervous.”

In February, fixing the carousel in Molybos: “This was in fact such a frequent occurrence that Alexandros at the hardware store kept little carousel repair kits ready to go in paper bags. You only had to go up to the counter and ask, and he would vanish into the back room and reappear a few moments later, ceremonially carrying a plastic bag filled with bolts and nuts. If he thought you didn’t have a wrench, he would offer to lend you the hardware store’s wrench, shaking his finger at you as he reminded you of the consequences for not returning it.”

In March, I delighted in the return of spring:

In April, I read Everything Conceivable, and it sparked some thoughts: “She also talked about the way that fertility treatments are reshaping the structure of the family, and that was interesting to read about. Thanks to advances in infertility treatment, for example, gay and lesbian couples can have kids, which I think is awesome (my one exception to generalized loathing of fertility treatments). And more complicated situations are arising, like a kid with two parents in addition to a birth mother (surrogate) and a donor mother and/or father.”

In May, I thought about veterans: “Every day this week, I’ve passed them at the Post Office. The chipper woman at a folding table scattered with poppies, with an aging representative of the Greatest Generation propped up beside her, staring blankly at the Chapel by the Sea announcements pinned to the noticeboard.”

In June, there was a freak thunderstorm (which later led to epic fires): “So there I was, minding my own business, chatting with Baxt, when she said that she got epic hail at her house. And I was all like ‘Dude!’ and she was all like ‘it was weird.’ And suddenly, there was a huge-ass mother of all thunderclaps basically right over my house which caused Mr Bell to rocket into the air, followed by a wicked lightning strike, and I looked outside…”

In July, I remembered getting electricity: “My father had planned the inaugural use of our electricity with care. He thought about simply flicking the lights on at dusk, but he decided that it lacked flair. Instead, he trundled into town and returned with a top of the line record player and a formidable set of speakers, and when the party started to flag, Maria Callas singing La Traviata rang out through the trees, creating at first a sudden hush and then an excited chatter as my father turned all of our four lights on, one by one.”

In August, I expressed discontent with the fact that the media sticks feminist issues into the style section: “When you publish the results of a survey which shows that girls are every bit as talented at math as boys, it should go in the sciences, or perhaps the news section, depending on whether or not you think that the fact that girls and boys are equally good at math is ‘news.'”

In September, I criticized the depiction of polyamory on Bones: “Polyamory is all about communication and open discussion, and what Brennan was doing was pretty much the opposite of that. How much more interesting it would have been if Brennan had been modeling a healthy polyamorous relationship, discussing issues with her partners and working them out, instead of just sneaking around and stringing two men along.”

In October, I talked about my subscription to the National Review: “I even brought in a National Review article for class discussion about a controversial ballot initiative (I ended up getting in hot water, and being rescued by my father, who pointed out that the National Review was a respected publication, whether or not the teacher agreed with it, and I was therefore entitled to bring in articles from it). After said show and tell, ‘bring in an item of news to share’ was disbanded in favor of ‘craft like the Egyptians,’ and I was permanently disinvited from several of my classmates’ homes by their parents.”

In November, I talked about how the personal is political: “I’m queer. And not in a ‘of a questionable nature or character,’ ‘mentally unbalanced or deranged,’ ‘bad, worthless, or counterfeit,’ or ‘not feeling physically right or well’ kind of way. You probably already know that, if you’ve been reading this site for any amount of time, but I think that this is the time to explicitly state it.”

In December, upskirting aroused my ire: “One of the interesting things about this type of pornography is that it is heavily rooted in lack of consent, which differentiates it in my eyes from pornography in general. Posed upskirting photographs with a consenting model are not popular. What people want are ‘illicit’ photographs in which a woman’s private parts are photographed while she is unaware.”