Dating – In Shauna’s World
As with most single women everywhere there are stories of good first dates and bad first dates. But what exactly qualifies as a date? I find myself trapped by language. So here is Shauna’s Dating Dictionary. Some entries will be open-ended waiting further discourse. They can all be amended as well. Feedback is welcome.
Hook Up – A guy you take home and sleep with. In most cases you never see them again. Usually large amounts of alcohol is involved. If you are lucky a date could result. If you are even luckier you remember his name.
Booty Call – If you know a guy and occasionally call him to come over in the middle of the night (or wee hours of the morning). In this situation both know there is no emotional attachment. Booty calls are purely physical. It is possible to have multiple booty call partners.
Maintenance Man – a fun title to describe the guy who visits for the booty call.
Other Woman – the woman a married/attached man is seeing on the side.
Date – It has a definitive beginning, middle, and end with both parties exploring the possibility of seeing the other person for a second time. Important questions are answered about such things as likes, loves, dislikes, careers, families, past events, ect. But the most important thing about a date is that both people know it is a date. Meeting a coworker you have a crush on for lunch…date or no date? If you have doubt, its not.
Boyfriend – a guy you are seeing exclusively. I actually also use it to describe a guy that you are trying really hard to be monogomous with even if that is only a state of mind and not actually literal.
A guy I used to date – this is an all-encompassing term used to describe past men that you have either had a relationship with, used as a booty call, or just had a one night stand. It prevents other people in a conversation from thinking you are a slut.
The Other Woman Phone Call – the phone call you get from the wife/girlfriend of the coupled up man you are sleeping with. There is only one way this ends – badly. The only thing to do is hang up and pray your man doesn’t end up hideously disfigured.
Single – There are degrees of being single
1. Completely single, no attachments whatsoever.
2. Sort of single – seeing one, two, or more people consistently but occasionally.
3. Quasi-single – seeing one or two people on a regular basis with no commitment on the table.
4. Not really single – seeing someone almost exclusively but because no commitment conversation has been had the occasional booty call gets thrown in when necessary.
5. Not single – you have someone you call your boyfriend. However, this is truly more of a state of mind. At this state you have to make a decision to either remain monogamous or see others on the sly. Or perhaps you have an open relationship. Regardless, you are introducing the man next to you at parties, “this is my boyfriend”.
But even with this guide what do you call your summer romance guy? Most women move on past this stage of life but throughout college there is inevitably the summer romance guy. My examples will be posts in the future…I promise! But I struggle with the classification of the summer romance guy. In fact, based on the definitions above I was not-really single at the time of one summer romance.
Also – what do you call the guy who is married but seeing you on the side? If you are the girl than its easy, she’s the “other woman”, see definition above. Both tough questions…
Marriage and Other Such Related Things
Before I left for college in the Fall of 1999 there was a statistical anomaly among my fellow 1999 graduates of my small town. Some were already parents. Not a single one of those parents were married. However, it was only a matter of time before this situation was remedied. Some of the single moms married the fathers of their children, some married other men. There were a few who did not get married at all.
By the time my sophomore year of college rolled around every single one of my childhood friends had children, one or in some cases two. Except for one. Girls who I had known since age five were parents! This was really mind boggling to me at the time. Here I was having the time of my life in college and there were people whom I had once been close to no longer could relate to my life. It was troubling to me and eye opening all at the same time. Which of us was losing touch?
At the end of college I had some new friends – mostly guys and girls from the rugby team that I played with. Most of them were not single at the end of college and I found myself in a situation remarkably close to the one I found myself in at end of high school. Three of my closest friends were married within two years of graduation. We lost touch…in fact I think things were already moving in that direction before graduation.
Then, I received some interesting news the other day. An old college roommate of mine who had gotten married last year was getting divorced. I was stunned. Was this cycle beginning for a third time? Babies, marriage, and now divorce? Now, she decided to divorce her husband as a result of his continued infidelity. She found out he was cheating and she was getting out.
Here I am at 25, unremarkably single, no children, barely getting by, and light-years away from where I thought I would be five years ago. But I’m happy. There is so much that I have in my life that I’m grateful for. I don’t have to have children, a husband, or even a steady boyfriend to have a life that I’m happy with. There is no big picture. It took me this long to realize that the ideal American Dream of the house with the white picket fence is simply not for me. I’m okay with that!
Last Night’s Red Sox Game
Last night I got to watch my first Red Sox game of the season. Why only the first? Well, because they played the Baltimore Orioles and it was actually televised here in Washington, DC. Boston won (5-2), much to my delight, due to a Grand Slam from Wily Mo Pena in the eighth inning. It was great game and was everything a baseball game should be. Great pitching, good defense, and a really excited crowd that had both Boston and Baltimore fans in equal measure.
I played baseball when I was a little girl. Yes, baseball, not softball. My last year playing we won the championship. It wasn’t exactly one of the greatest acheivements of my life or anything but still memorable enough to respect the game of baseball. Some people say that its boring. I wouldn’t say that it is boring but sometimes you have to be in the right frame of mind to watch a game on telelvision. Sometimes its nice after a long day to just sit back, have a beer, and relax.
Of course going to a game is a completely different story. I’ve never been to a Major League baseball game, not for lack of trying. I’ve been to Minor League games before and they were far better than watching a game on tv. I tried to go to last night’s game but Baltimore is about an hour away and no one wanted to drive even if I bought the tickets…oh well. The Red Sox have a few more games this season in Baltimore. I’ll get there.
There is something about going to a live event. I don’t care if its hockey, basketball, football, or a concert I know I’m going to have a good time. There is something about the energy of the crowd, the talent looming largely in front of me, and the excitement of the whole experience. I love watching people who are doing what they love. Athletic or creative people may just do what they do for money, but you can always tell when their passion is gone.
So here is a new life goal for me…to find something I’m passionate about and share it with others. Perhaps this blog is such an outlet. I guess that remains to be seen.
I’m not going to write about my job
I was determined that once I started this blog I wasn’t going to write about either of my jobs…too much. This is mainly to preserve my job in case some coworkers come across what I’ve written. But it is going to be difficult. I’m underappreciated, underpaid, and many days – like today – treated like complete shit. Who wouldn’t want to bitch about that?
Once I was sitting at a metro station in the afternoon just after leaving work bitching to my sister about my job. I said something like “its just a never-ending void that sucks out all my energy.” The woman next to me just started laughing. I’m not sure if it was my actual words or my mournful tone.
Perhaps all this is on my mind because tomorrow is Secretary’s Day. This will be the second year in a row that my company has opted not to do anything for the underappreciated administrative staff here. I’m one of the few in the company whose title has the word “assistant” in it. My boss won’t even so much as take me out to lunch.
I wouldn’t mind so much if I hadn’t grown up with a father who adored his secretary. In fact, my parents are such good friends with her and her husband they going to camping together at least two or three times a year. I remember shopping with him for the perfect gift for Secretary’s Day and Christmas. I’ve never gotten a present for either.
Perhaps this is an unrealistic expectation as I work in a completely different environment and my boss actually admits to never having completed an entire book during his 33 years on this earth. Am I being petty and slightly materialistic? Yes, I am. But I’m worth it, damnit!
Dirty Dancing – Raising Feminist Hackles
This was a post I wrote as a “guest” for meetjustin.com’s blog. He never got around to publishing it and so I thought that I would now. I could have saved it for a rainy day but its been sitting around too long for me not to share!
‘Dirty Dancing’ is a movie about a hot summer romance, sexy dancing, and “learning how to be a better person”, right? Of course! It’s an 80’s classic almost every female ages 15-100 has seen. Who didn’t want to be Baby, losing her virginity to a guy as hot as Patrick Swayze?
If you are one of the few who haven’t seen it then here is the shortened version. Baby Houseman and her family spend the summer of 1963 at Kellerman’s resort in the Catskill Mountains (although the movie was filmed in North Carolina. For more random movie trivia see http://www.fast-rewind.com/). It looks like she is going to have a boring summer until she stumbles upon the staff cabins one night. The entire staff is bumping sweaty body against sweaty body and making it look sexy. Baby tries and doesn’t even come close to looking sexy even after a brief lesson with Johnny, the dance instructor.
Eventually, after sneaking back to the staff cabins for a few more nights, she discovers the dance staff has a problem. Johnny’s dance partner, Penny, is pregnant. Baby saves the day, not once but twice. First, she asks her father for the money for Penny’s abortion. Mr. Houseman asks why she needs the money and she replies, “I can’t tell you”. Then, she takes Penny’s place as Johnny’s partner in a dance exhibition at the neighboring Sheldrake Hotel. It takes virtually all summer for her to learn the moves.
The night of the exhibition is the night of Penny’s abortion. Johnny’s cousin runs to the car upon their return from the Sheldrake and says Penny’s procedure did not go well. “He had a dirty knife and a folding table. I could hear her screaming in the hallway.” Baby saves the day again by waking her father, who is a doctor. He comes to Penny’s side and makes everything better. This is, naturally, the night Baby loses her virginity to Johnny.
The plot thickens when Baby’s sister begins seeing Robbie, the man who “got Penny in trouble”. She plans on sleeping with him until she discovers him in bed with another guest. Robbie, the waiter, who plans on attending medical school, really gets around. Up until one of the last scenes in the movie Mr. Houseman is under the assumption that Johnny was the father of Penny’s baby. In fact, he completely disapproves of Baby’s association with Johnny and forbids her to see him again. Naturally, as all rebellious daughters do, she didn’t listen. They spend the remaining days of the summer with each other. The last weekend of the summer Johnny is accused of theft. Baby admits that it couldn’t have been Johnny because she was with him the night of the theft. Johnny gets fired and Baby’s relationship with her father further deteriorates. Then, in the most famous movie dance scene of all time, Johnny returns to Kellerman’s for the final dance number and the staff gets to do “their kind of dancing” in the main hall. Mr. Houseman finds out Robbie knocked Penny up and sort of apologizes to Johnny for thinking it was him.
How many times have I seen this movie? Too many. But I saw it again recently and my feminist hackles were raised. One of the main underlying issues in this movie is Penny’s abortion. It’s a rather important aspect of the plot. In fact, the movie gets down to the real meat of the abortion issue. Why would a woman have an abortion? Let’s break it down in Penny’s case:
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She gets pregnant by a guy who turns out to be a total ass and was deceived into thinking her loved her.
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She is completely on her own with no family support.
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She is smart enough to know that the father (Robbie) will not be in the picture whatsoever.
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She uses her body as a means of making money, ie dancing.
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Her job at Kellerman’s is seasonal.
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She is really too young.
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She heard about a “reliable” MD who would perform the procedure.
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She found the money for the procedure, ie Mr. Houseman through Baby.
The moral question of whether it is wrong was never, ever brought up in the movie. Penny made her decision and her friends supported her. In fact, they went out of their way to help her in every aspect. But the underlying theme her is that Penny made the decision herself. And she was petrified. What is so scary is that Penny had no place to go to have the procedure done safely. “A dirty knife and a folding table”. That line has stuck with me since I saw the movie again.
If President Bush and his abstinence-supporting cronies have their way, a virtual black market of “dirty knives” and “folding tables” will exist in dirty warehouses, filthy alleys, and God-knows where else. It doesn’t have to be this way. Baby believed the world could be a better place. I firmly believe that it can be, but taking away a woman’s right to an abortion is not the way.
Who is Shauna and What does Venus Obsequens mean?
Venus Obequens is a soubriquet to which a temple was built in dedication of the Roman goddess Venus during the 3rd century BCE. This temple, which was located near the Circus Maximus, was built with money from women who were fined with the crime of adultery. It was one of the oldest known temples built to honor Venus in Rome.
How on earth I could I not name my blog after such a tremendous monument? Built with women’s money who were found guilty of the crime of adultry? Imagine…first these women needed to be having an affair (okay, not hard). Then, they needed to be caught (it happens even to the best). Next, they needed to be found guilty in the Roman court (not exactly a jury of peers). Lastly, they needed to have this money collected from them (did debtor’s prison’s exist in ancient Rome?)
Several questions pop into my mind about this. Who thought that building a temple with this money was a good idea? There had to be enough money floating around from these women to build a temple in the first place. How many were found guilty?
While I am a student of history I don’t know that much about the ancient world. I do know a little about the history of women to know that these women most likely did not have control of their own finances. Which means that the money to build this temple actually came from their cuckolded husbands. That is the greatest irony for women of the ancient world right there.
Seriously, these men paid the debts of their wives, which they most likely were legally obligated to do, only to have a temple built to Venus – the goddess associated with love, fertility, and beauty. I’m sure that is the last place these men would have donated their money after learning their wives were sleeping around.
I once had a professor in a sophmore history class who had nicknames for virtually every student. This was rather impressive because the guy was an adjunct and if his job teaching five history classes wasn’t enough, he actually remembered two names for his students. My name is Shauna and my nickname was Venus.
It stuck around in my brain for awhile even after the class was over. Why on earth would he have picked that name? Did that mean he though I was pretty? The class did not really leave an impression only because it was a high school world history class rehashed. Magellan sailed around the world, Cortes conquered the Aztecs, the triangle trade, did Columbus really discover the new world? Blah, blah, blah.
So why will you want to keep reading this blog? Well, my life may not be all that interesting but occassionally it is. However, there are so many issues in the news recently that have just plain ol’ gotten me mad. And I just needed to talk about them. For example, the most recent blow to women’s rights last week in the Supreme Court. I won’t start with any at the moment because my very first post would be a thousand words. I’m warning you now, I can be long winded. However, I can be coherent in all that wordiness and to the point. Okay, okay…it will be my personal challenge.
Venus Obsequens 