…

…

The drive to Buford is really very lovely.

…

…

Let’s do an old fashioned Random History™ moment real quick.

Buford Dam @ Lake Lanier

Buford became a city in 1872.  They have a lovely new courthouse and square that caters to local businesses and families alike.  There’s a fish hatchery and a pond where families can go and fish together-and toke, if you’re like us, away from the Rat Race that is Atlanta.

…

…

The G-Man has never been fishing and to be honest I was a tad bit uncomfortable taking him for the first time without his father, but, well, too fucking bad.  J’s kids have been itching to get out of the hotel-another story-and while I do what I can to get them outside and run out of energy, the fact is that three boys without enough outside time will run you over faster than a Mac Truck on the way to a Hangover Convention.

…

So, off we go to Buford.  Fishing.  Tea.  A 2-year-old with nerves of steel.

…

I just watched him get closer and closer to the water.  He loves water.  Like waterbug he is.

…

…

…

Closer.

I really couldn’t put down that fucking pole fast enough.

..

I mean, I saw it a hundred years before it happened.

…

I usually don’t move in such slow motion.

…

In fact, I have a habit of going too fast when the mood strikes me.

…

In he goes, face first and of course I just jumped.  I had no idea how deep or how grody.

And of course, the fish….

…

Fortunately, for me no one bit me!

…

…

He flipped over, ONTO HIS FACE. Of course.  All I could think was that he’s crying and going to suck in all this water.

…

…

All the water.

…

But I grabbed him and he was okay.  Never a more complacent group of bystanders did I ever see.

…

It took me a few minutes, but eventually I did cave to the shaking and the crying and the scared out of my fucking minding.

I’m fairly certain my marriage is over.

It’s time to get drunk…and sing.

Boardwalk on the Beach is known for it’s bars and nightlife.  Apparently the largest Karaoke bar in the South-though, now that I think about it, I have no idea the name of the bar and I’m really not inclined to find out.

I have appropriate beach karaoke attire.  A short skort, a tank, Hilfiger flops.  A party attitude…

and…

my mom?

Well of course I have my mom.  My mom is totally my drinking pal.

I was pretty certain that karaoke was going to happen.  I’ve been singing “Before he cheats” for days in the car.  Appropriately, I’m the last Southern girl on the planet to discover Carrie Underwood.

Basic karaoke fodder.  Totally basic.

Jager bombs are very dangerous.

There’s a two hour wait to sing.

Some chick gets my song before I do.  She fails.  Doubly.

Chatting up a semi-bald metal wanna-be who sing Linkin Park and nods and smiles at my attempt at playful banter.

My flirt skills waver after the second pitcher of PBR and the third bomb.

Though, I do keep it together to sing.

Mom bails.  Won’t sing.  I hear her chatting up some dude about Lutheranism and Baptists and other metaphysical pursuits that kind of make me want to vom.

Oh, wait…

that’s probably the PBR.

My grandmother is different though.

There’s nothing I could do or say-she never yells at me, she’s quick to lend me $5 or $10 or $100 whether I need it or deserve it, which I rarely do deserve it.

Today after we went to Longhorn’s for my aunt’s birthday, filled with sweet margaritas and medium rare filets, my grandmother-or Gigi as she has affectionately become since the birth of my son-went and had pedicures and manicures at a nice salon in town.

We didn’t talk about anything life changing, in fact, she practically fell asleep in the deep tissue massage chair, but just the comfy air between us two, with the nail tech busy below, was nice.

We always did everything together, she taught me to read, walked me to the library twice a week during the summers when I was small.  She would push my hair back and tell me what a beautiful forehead her sweet angel had…

Our days are getting shorter.  I see the orange and red in the sky.  I get busy and she gets tired chasing my fair-haired baby boy.

When the sun sets, my face won’t be dry for years afterward.

I love…

the following.

1. Essay finals.

2. Mothers-in-law who will never actually be my mother-in-law.

3.  Making myself wholly available to people, we’ll call them my friends, and thank they profusely when feeling abused.

4. Ice cream.

Though, I did have pasta this weekend.  And it was awesome.  And I’m not sorry at all.

So, there.

Below and for the next million pages you will find my first draft of my term paper for Sociology 3001 (Sociological Writing.)  I’d love any and all comments, emails, berrations, etc.

Thanks

Changes in Appalachian Communities: Progress on the War on Poverty

Alana Berry

March 30, 2009

Sociology 3001

University of West Georgia

Abstract:

1963 saw the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, but his plan to revitalize the poorest parts of America did not die with him. In 1964, President Johnson declared “War on Poverty” in a federal effort to eliminate the destitution and hopelessness many American citizens were living in. Through the creation of the Appalachian Regional Commission and other federal programs combined with the grassroots efforts of community leaders, some progress has been made over the past 50 years. A renewal of interest in the region has many questioning if enough has been done and whether or not this area can be saved.

Article:

In 1964, following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, succeeding President Johnson declared war on poverty in America. Appalachian America was at the forefront of this new social initiative. Several ideas were proposed to alleviate the suffering of American citizens, suffering that many associate with third world countries and not the United States of America. Inhabitants of the mountains are often stereotyped as being distrustful of outsiders and fiercely self-reliant. Because of this, the most effective way of combating the social ills of Appalachia are community action grassroots efforts started and sustained by the people who live there. More than 50 years later, the struggle continues, but progress has been made.

Johnson was clear in his 1964 State of the Union address. “This administration today, here and now, declares unconditional war on poverty in America. I urge this Congress and all Americans to join with me in that effort.” Johnson went on to outline how America could answer the needs of its poorest citizens. He made clear that the attack on poverty should be a national one, but that the battles would be fought at the State and local levels. He emphasized a “cooperative approach” that would strike at what he felt to be the real heart of the problem; education, medical care, housing and “decent communities.” The community would be the key variable in the equation regional betterment in Appalachia.

Appalachia presents the problem of people referred to as the “hard core poor.” The President’s Commission of Income Maintenance Programs would place “the aged, the disabled, female-headed families and those whose limited skills seem unlikely to be demanded by an increasingly complex industrial system” (Zarefsky 1986:102) into this category. The Office of Economic Opportunity (OEO) sought to help mountain communities through job training, but by their own definition, many of the people they sought to help were outside the training parameters. Beaurocratic programs like those of the OEO were unsuccessful.

Many Americans have a limited frame of reference for what and where is Appalachia. “Appalachia, as defined in the legislation from which the Appalachian Regional Commission derives its authority, is a 205,000-square-mile region that follows the spine of the Appalachian Mountains from southern New York to northern Mississippi. It includes all of West Virginia and parts of 12 other states: Alabama, Georgia, Kentucky, Maryland, Mississippi, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Virginia”. (Appalachian Regional Commission 2009) It is important to remember that the people of Appalachia have always been somewhat isolated from their urban or suburban neighbors and because of this, they have created their own culture, dialect and community priorities which can often clash with the ideas of outsiders. The Appalachian community is a complex combination of people, industry and environment that creates a unique living situation strangers find difficult to understand. One of the largest issues that, while not exceptional to the mountains, remains a profound problem with households in the region. Married families in Appalachia are more destitute than their mainstream American counterparts. Concerns such as income, child-care and housing are exacerbated in a community with a limited economy. The aging population of the area presents a similar problem as single person households increase alongside their poverty rates. (Werner and Badagliacco 2004) All of these must be taken into consideration when creating a plan to help mountain communities.

Of course, the largest outside factor that affects this area is coal. Coal mining and production is one of, if not the largest,economic contributor, while at the same time being a huge consumer of natural resources in the form of land and forest consumption. The industry in the region lacks adequate regulation and continues to produce millions in revenue for the mines while failing to contribute to the local communities in which they do business. Not only is the economic problem a concern, but the safety of the residents is affected by “mountain top removal.” Residents near mines suffer from “rock slides, catastrophic floods, poisoned water supplies, constant blasting, destroyed property, and lost culture.” This is combined with other ill effects on health from coal dust that aggravates both school children and the elderly. “The long term health effects have yet to be studied and may include “liver, kidney, and spleen failure, bone damage, and cancers of the digestive track.” (Baller and Pantilat 2007) There is also the case of coal companies taking advantage of the region financially. Businessmen and politicians created tightly woven factions to gain control of the vast coal resources in West Virginia and Kentucky in the early 20^th century. This unethical union bought senate seats, like Johnson Cameron’s in Kentucky, who actually lived in West Virginia and Clarence Watson a seat in West Virginia, even though he was from Maryland (Drake 2001:157). Because of this, many decisions about the region were being made not from community leaders and long-time residents, but by outsiders and the top of the upper class who’s priorities were decidedly different from those living in the area.

Many people consider this area of America to be beyond help. This way of thinking is the product of ignorance of the region and it’s history. Even though many Appalachian states are in the Deep South, this area was predominantly unionist during the Civil War and in fact, became the base for the Republican Party in the South after the war (Drake 2001:154-155). Natives also have long and intimate family connections with each other that are deeply intertwined. History like that of the Hatfield’s and McCoys is folklore to the rest of the country, but to the people of this area that history is real and even today fresh.

In 1963, before his death, President Kennedy created the Appalachian Regional Commission to put into practice plans for economic revival. The ARC presented President Johnson with an outline to organize these efforts. This report included just two basic points as the Commission worked on a complete “plan for Appalachia.”

1. An immediate, or short-run, investment to provide basic facilities and programs not provided in the past but which are essential to the growth of the region and opportunity of its people.

2. A regional organizations to allow maximum use of both existing and new resources in a continuing development effort. (A Report by the President’s Appalachian Regional Commission 1964)

Johnson and the ARC did have some success. The poverty rate from 1964 to 2000 decreased dramatically from 31% to 13.6%. The number of adults receiving a high school diploma increased by 70% (Associated Press 2004). Unfortunately, while there have been some very impressive overall changes, there are still so many living there that want to work, to do more than survive but the local economies are just non-existent.

Because the coal companies pay very well, up to $60,000 a year for a entry-level worker, and provide good benefits those jobs are scarce (A Hidden America: Children of the Mountains 2009). With an increase in technology, the jobs are even more difficult to get. In 2003, more than 4 million tons of coal rolled out of this southernmost West Virginia county but it took barely 700 people to produce it (Associated Press 2004). Not good odds for those with little education and children at home to feed. The coal company positions are in stark contrast to the option that most residents have, which are minimum wage retail positions at dollar stores in the many strip malls dotting the area (A Hidden America: Children of the Mountains 2009). Because of this, many people turn to drugs not just for the escape, but as a much needed source of income. In April of 1998, the U.S. Office of National Drug Control Policy (ONDCP) officially designated areas within Tennessee, Kentucky and West Virginia as the Appalachia High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area (HIDTA) (Tennessee Bureau of Investigation n.d.). The largest reason for this designation and spenditure of local resources was that the area had perfect climate conditions for the cultivation of marjiuana and, more importantly, low median income plus high unemployment rates equaled desperate people willing to do anything to survive.

All of this information and background leads to one place. What is working? There are programs making great strides in substance abuse treatment, education and providing basic services to the tenants of these mountains. The Rural Women’s Recovery Program (RWRP) works with women in Ohio to help them navigate government buerocracy in order to receive the social services they need. WIC, Planned Parenthood and the local Department of Human Services all work with RWRP by sharing information, even though staff and budgets are short (Tatum n.d.). The VISION program in Schuylkill County, PA uses a similar format by connecting community resources with each other to promote change. These community partners work together to develop programs that help several areas of concern simultaneously. One example is the VISION program teamed up the “Schuylkill Chamber of Commerce Foundation and formed a forum comprised of sophomore, junior and senior students from area schools. This group will meet regularly to share information between schools, communities, and businesses” (Schuylkill County’s VISION 2008) The Mud Creek Clinic was featured in Diane Sawyer’s 20/20 report “Children of the Mountains” but much of the good work of Eula Hall was left out in favor of a more sensationalist view of the community leader. Ms. Hall has lived in the area all her life and is exactly the type of that came to mind when the ARC was in its inception. She began the clinic in 1973 with a tight budget and commitment from two local doctors to help. Today [1999], the Mud Creek Clinic in Grethel, Kentucky, serves over 7,000 patients a year from a modern 5,200-square-foot facility. The clinic is the only facility in Floyd County that provides health care based on ability to pay.” The climic provides other basic needs as well, dental services, a food pantry, portable water and a clothes closet are all part of this blossoming outreach program (McDaniel, Appalachian Scene: Eula Hall: A Driving Force for Change 1999). There have been others as well, Carroll Smith a former coal miner in Letcher County, Kentucky brought door to door recycling and union representation to county employees and was quickly elected to county judge executive. After his election he proposed an ordinance to limit logging that was damaging county land and roads. He proposed a minimum wage increase, a recycling bill and an smoking ban in public buildings-proposals that were becoming common place in the rest of the country (Eller 2008:246-247). Though none of the aformentioned proposals passed, Smith developed a reputation for caring about his constituents more than the bottom line from coal, oil and logging companies, who lobbied to gain his favor.

Appalachia is a beautiful and vibrant part of America. Long considered “The Other America” the people have been marginalized and ostracized as though they live in a different country. A piqued interest due to news stories has inserted these mountains into the mind of many who want to help. What Appalachia needs is not fly-by-night magazine specials and one time contributions from the other side of the country, but continued community outreach that will educate residents on the importance of small but profound ways they can change their lives. Preventative health care, especially prenatal care for expectant mothers and regular well-check ups for young children. An emphasis on proper dental care and maintance can do much to deter the Mountain Dew addiction that mainstream audiences were shocked over in Sawyer’s 20/20 special. Unfortunately, until the large industries making so much money from this region decide to contribute back instead of filtering resources both natural and financial away from the hills, many local efforts will be just a small drop in a very large budget. People like Eula Hill can only do so much without real corporate sponsorship. As techological advances in mining, oil production and logging lessen the need for human workmanship and machinize the process, there will be less jobs paying a livable wage and more competition for jobs without one. This will continue to add to the two biggest problems for Appalachia’s younger generation. They can either leave-and deplete the culture and heritage as the next group of young people try to find fortune elsewhere or, they can stay and perpetuate the cycle of no education, low income and no end in sight for the generation after. Neither choice is a good one, but without big money, the big dreams of new communities for the younest inhabitants of Appalachian America will never come true.

References

Interview by Diane Sawyer. A Hidden America: Children of the Mountains ABC News. February 13, 2009.

A Report by the President’s Appalachian Regional Commission. Washington, D.C.: Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office, 1964, 17.

Appalachian Regional Commission. 2009.

Associated Press. 2004 “Some still fighting War on Poverty after 40 years.” Sullivan-County.com. May 23. Retrieved March 30, 2009 (http://www.sullivancounty.com/nf0/june_2004/app_poverty.htm).

Baller, Mark, and Leor Joseph Pantilat. 2007. “Defenders of Appalachia: the campaign to eliminate mountaintop removal coal mining and the role of Public Justice.” Environmental Law, June 2007.

Drake, Richard B. 2001. A History of Appalachia. Lexington, Kentucky: The University Press of KY.

Eller, Ronald D. 2008. Uneven Ground: Appalachia Since 1945. Lexington, KY: University Press of Kentucky.

Johnson, Lyndon B. 1964. “Annual Message to the Congress on the State of the Union.” Washington, D.C., January 8.

Jr., John Benhart. 2007. Appalachian Aspirations: The Geography of Urbanization and Development in the Upper Tennessii River Valley, 1865-1900. Knoxville, TN: The University of Tennessee Press.

McDaniel, Lynda. 1999. “Appalachian Scene: Eula Hall: A Driving Force for Change.” Appalachia Magazine: Journal of the Appalachian Regional Commission.

McDaniel, Lynda. 2001. “Appalachian Scene: It’s All About People.” Appalachia Magazine: Journal of the Appalachian Regional Commission.

Schuylkill County’s VISION. 2008. “2008 Year in Review.” Schuylkill VISION Retrieved March 30, 2009 (http://www.schuylkillvision.com/2008%20%20Year%20in%20Review%20Economic%20Development%20Education,%20Energy.pdf).

Tatum, Tanya. “Rural Women’s Recovery Program and Women’s Outreach . . .Serving Rural Appalachian Women and Families in Ohio.” Treatment Inprovement Exchange. Retrieved March 30, 2009 (http://tie.samhsa.gov/Taps/TAP17/tap17rural.html).

Tennessee Bureau of Investigation. Drug Investigation Division. Retreived March 30, 2009 (http://www.tbi.state.tn.us/divisions/did_progs.htm).

Werner, Tammy, and Joanna Badagliacco. 2004. “Appalachian Households and Families in the New Millennium: An Overview of Trends and Policy Implications.” Journal of Appalachian Studies 10, no. 1: 373-388.

Zarefsky, David. 1986. President Johnson’s War on Poverty. University, Alabama: The University of Alabama Press.

(Please leave your lame comments at the door.)

And my st00pid boyfriend drove.  Because we were high.  And I guess I felt the better driver of the two of us was him.

Is it ever really him?  The better of anything?  I mean seriously, when is “he is the better” ever the real answer?

It was drizzling and we hit a tiny, teensy, you’d really need to be blind to see it, spot of standing water.  He slams on the brakes.  Well, of course he slams on the brakes.  Because that’s the opposite of what you’re supposed to do.  Well, the second thing you aren’t supposed to do…is over correct.  Jerk the wheel in the opposite direction in which you are hydroplaning.

Yeah. None of the right things did he.

We made three or four revolutions.  I’ll never forget how blue his eyes looked to me.  Big as quarters as he screamed, “Oh Shit! Oh Shit!” over and over.

We went down a 20 foot embankment on I-75 north just past Barret Parkway and hit a tree head on.

We were fine (obviously, dumbass, I’m writing this) but I was terrified.  My little car was totalled.

Anyway, this morning I got super, dooper lucky.  I found a parking space very close to class in the rain.  As I’m moving through the TLC building (and that does not stand for Tender Loving Class) a chick I’ve never seen before and her very musical theater I swear I’m straight (I’ve got the gaydar of a 25 year old dancer at Swinging Richards) boyfriend walk right up to me.

“You know who the Rockettes are?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The Rockettes.  You know who they are?”

“The Rockettes in New York City?  Yes, I know who they are.  Why?”

“Well, what do they do?”

“Uh, they’re a kickline.”

“Yes!”

Victory was evidently very sweet for her.  He walked away bitterly disappointed.

I do  what I can.  Really, I do.

Anyway, the whole world is now apparently pissed off at me.  The thing about this that really sucks is that for all the things my relationship is, it’s fun.  It’s no drama.  It’s lots of laughing and very little if any crying.  The crying usually comes from other people interfering.

Of course I’ve been made to feel like I’m the one with a maturity problem.

Though, I am not passive-aggressive.  I went straight to the problem.  Like you’re supposed to when you’re an adult.  Confront the aggressor.  Figure out the problem.

Now, he’s upset with me for being caught in the middle.  Which isn’t my fault.

Eventually she’ll get her way.  Because for what am I putting up with all this bullshit if there’s no goal.  And don’t get it twisted.  There’s not.  Much as I’d love for there to be.

*sigh*.

Yay.  Weekend.  Meh.

There’s a line of involvement where you’re no longer introduced as “my friend.”

There’s a line of involvement where you can be trusted to drink an adult beverage around *gasp* minors and not feel guilty.

There’s a line of involvement where you can be treated like an adult with an active, positive sex life that deserves respect and privacy.

Apparently, I’ve still not reached that line.

Oh, I know.  You don’t have to tell me.

What sucks is that, the person that makes me feel so wonderful is related to the person who makes me feel so bad.

Would you like an update?

Well of course you would.

The sickeningly sweet over-the-top I wouldn’t offend you if it meant saving the starving children in Africa attitude has been in full effect.

“Hi, how are you?”

“Can you get that recipe for me?  I’d love to have it.”

“Just lay back down, you should get some more rest if you can.”

I know what sincerity looks like and this ain’t it.  I’m not the best judge of character when it comes to men (or I am I just ignore it) but my mama didn’t raise no fool.

In any event, in an effort to be sensitive to other members of the household, most physical activity is pursued in a room away from bedrooms belonging to children and mothers.  Lights out, doors closed, not necessarily quiet, but definitely not having the cops called on a noise violation.

When someone inadvertently opens a door and turns on a light and the tell-tale signs of the road to orgasmic ecstasy are all around, what is the appropriate response (given that the person involved is not your 15 year old daughter?)

I’ll wait while you decide.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

We have a winner, Bob.

It’s turn the fuck around and go back where you came from.

Not shuffle and bustle and move a bunch of shit around in search of a midnight snack while I sit here with a cock inside me trying to figure out if I need to cover up, cry or run away.  Damn.  Basic roommate etiquette.  Every college freshman knows this.

I couldn’t be seen as there was a flimsy accordian door separating us from her in the kitchen.  A never closed off kitchen window with merely a cotton panel to shut out the over sink light.

But I could be heard.

I could hear.

Another insincere apology this A.M.

So today, an ultimatum.  Which sucks.  I do not enjoy trying to force someone to react.  I want them to react on their own.  To act like an adult.  An adult with any amount of control over their own fucking household.

I really tried to think of a way to make this funny.  But I’m fuming.  I’m hurt.  I’m frustrated.  I’m saddened that the reality of how much I mean to someone is being shoved in my face when I just wasn’t ready for it yet.  I just wanted a little more time to decide for myself how long to let it go on.

Hell no, I wouldn’t cancel the combined outing with him  and her.  Not on your life would I dream of giving someone the satisfaction of continuing to intimidate me.  I’m being unfair with that?  Really?  Seriously, I’m the one?

I call bullshit.

I know what the answer is.  I’m just not there yet.

I mean, I know, I know. 

BUT WHY?

Well, there seems to be some super gravitational centrifuge reverse black hole for couples at airports.

Airports and theme parks.

You can’t walk 20 feet in either place without tripping over some poor pimple-faced emo kid, whose mom won’t let him pierce his lip so he bought one of those totally super ghey pretend face jewelry thingies, sucking on the face of the unfortunate young lady, in shorts so much more unfortunate that they may have at one time fit a Cabbage Patch Doll before they shrunk, that he has some how convinced to love him. And let him touch her. In public.

It’s sweet.

I dare you to say it’s not.

I love the reunions.  Young.  Old. Ugly.  Gorgeous.  You see affection in all shapes and sizes and colors and levels of fashion victim.

It gives me hope, it does.

If super fat trailer trash on their first flight outside the mobile home park in East Bumfuck, AL can find each other and make out under the bright and optimistic lights of Atlanta-Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, then surely Shirley, that delectable Cuban in line at Busch Gardens may materialize on my doorstep one day.

Mmmmm.   I do love a good Cuban.

The hilarity of it all doesn’t really peak there, however.  This past weekend the plan was to attend The Holy Land Experience in Orlando, FL.

Yes.  I am atheist.

Yes.  I’m obsessed with religion.

Yes.  I’ll…

…wait for it.

Yes.  It’s weird.

Are you done?

Unable to attend because a theme park in Florida somehow managed to get itself filled to capacity, which I wasn’t sure was even possible (and am still a little curious if my non-theistic aura was showing), I wondered what kind of good Christian PDA one might find at the product of this country’s ridiculous love affair with fundamentalist evangelical religion.

I’m going back.

I need to see that Replica Crucifixion Jesus smiles on public tonsil hockey.

Before he ceremoniously gives it up to the Big Guy Working the Controls.

You have one or maybe two drinks in a day, you obviously have a drinking problem.

You’re loud in bed, so you must be cheap.

You have strong Southern manners, therefore, you are fake.

Oh, and my number one favorite.  You genuinely care for someone-so you’re obviously in love.

Life is a growth process and most of the time I welcome those opportunities.  Sometimes, they just beat you down.  The fact is, that you truly can’t please everyone and my goal is to be a good mom and hopefully please myself in the process occasionally.  I’m under no obligation to be who Mom or Dad or his mom or anyone else decides I ought to be.

My only obligation is good parenting.  Be true to myself.  Hell, that’s a tall order as it is with the whole world pulling at every limb!

I’ve been dating the same guy since October.  I care for him deeply, but I know it’s not going to be any more serious than what it is right now.  Would I like it to be more?  Probably, but the longer I’m in this the more I realize that there’s just nothing wrong with spending time with someone who is good to me, cares for me and has a really good time with me.

His mother, unfortunately, doesn’t really see it that way.

I’m not his dead wife.

I’m not his wonderful female best friend.

I’m just…

me.

So it really doesn’t matter who I am, I FAIL.

Part of it makes me really angry.  She’s rude, she’s insensitive.  She’s the opposite of everything I know about men and their mothers in the South.

That’s what I get for dating a Yankee I suppose.

The other part of me just wants to brush her off as shallow and ignorant-but, well, she intimidates me.  I’m not usually easily intimidated, but she rules over their house like the Queen Bee she’s been allowed to be since his wife died.

He shares some responsibility for her actions.  Survival mode required him to put her in this position without much thought to the long term consequences.  She’s with them all day and then he treats her as a baby-sitter at night.  Well, those night plans usually include me, so, obviously I must be the culprit.

None of this is neither here nor there I suppose, really, because I’m the only one in this equation I can affect.  All I can do is do me.  Everyone else can just suck it.

I’m a bit concerned, actually, about some of the things I find.  I am a member of an online dating site.  It’s free…no cheesy guarantees of finding love in six months or it’s free, but really, really free.  If your a moron or a dork, you’ll probably stay that way in your mom’s basement.  I’ve been a member since before I got married so needless to say I’ve had to do some housecleaning since so much information has changed.

I find that there are many questions related to sex, which of course is to be expected but one reoccuring theme is rather disturbing to me.  There seem to be a lot of people, men and women alike, who are obsessed with rape fantasies. 

I just don’t get it.

BDSM or any light variation thereof, I get.  I am generally a very outspoken woman, even overbearing at times and the last thing I want in the bedroom is to be in control.  I’m very submissive and I like it that way.  I enjoy the strength of a man and have no interest in dominating those activities.

Submissive is one thing.  But rape?  When I think of rape, I don’t get turned on.  I think of bloody legs and busted lips.  Tears and sleepless nights.  While I have had the unpleasant experience of being somewhat violated, both by men I barely knew and friends/boyfriends alike, I don’t think any of them can compare to being violently torn apart from the inside out.

So am I missing something here?  Because what I think these people are fantasizing about has little to do with rage and control than the “rape” they are idealizing.

Am I wrong?