Eureka, The Future, and Nipple Tassels

So I’m spending a week in Eureka, California. Partially to check out a couple colleges, partially to spend time with my “it’s complicated” and contemplate where the relationship will go when he returns to our not-so-lovely hometown. However, this trip requires a lot of hours sitting in his dorm room waiting for him to get off work (even if I could leave the room without him, I wouldn’t even begin to know how to get around this crazily spaced out town) so I’m going to try to use that time positively and update this blog more.

Even though I lack a major regular following and so doing this may be kind of dumb, I do want to address why the writing stopped. Usually when writing stops on a blog, it indicates the writer’s apathy. It’s quite the opposite for me however. Any time in the last couple months that I’ve tried to sit down and write on something I find, I find three more things to write on and I go crazy.

I’m so frustrated, world. I’ve never been more scared as a woman. I know I have to do something about it, between the attacks on Roe vs Wade, Planned Parenthood, and just plain women as a whole. I find, however, that I don’t even know where to begin.

So I’m gonna try to say fuck it to being linear. If I don’t know where to begin, I’ll go with the middle of it all. I always want to stick to one article in an entry, but maybe I’ll have to shove a few in just to keep my head from exploding. And I definitely need to get on top of my career objectives.

“Stefani,” you may be asking, you curious little bugger, “what are your career objectives anyway? Are you actually trying to make a career out of sex?”

The short answer is yes.

To elaborate though:  I actually have a lot of objectives with my life and the work I want to do. The first goal is to get a, if not several, sex positive art residencies running. I haven’t really had a chance to show it yet, but I’m an artist at heart. Painting is the most effective way for me to show people what I’m feeling without the accompanied sensation of having my skin removed in front of a live studio audience, although I also work in other visual art forms like sculpture and photography. I also feel art is the most effective way to pass ideas to people, more than words, only seconded by music. So hey, if you happen to work closely with or run an art gallery or museum that feels like taking on a big ballsy comment, hit me up!

At some point I want to go back to school and figure out how to have a major that focuses in on sex and sex positivity. I’ve debated between a form of cultural anthropology, or human sexuality; though ultimately I may just make my own major.

Then, there’s this sort of eternal debate in my head, if I am promoting the ability for a woman to have an unconditional public, even pornographic, love for her body, does that mean I have to do the same, much like Madison Young or Jiz Lee? That’s a part of my goals I don’t really have an answer for yet. I guess I’ll just have to see what happens. I do know I would LOVE to try burlesque at some point, and it was a huge heartbreak for me when I lacked the ability to audition for SuicideGirls’ upcoming reality show.

Actually, discussion of burlesque leads me into the article that’s currently on my mind, the one that makes my personal debate a little harder.

The article is about a psychology professor who was fired from her teaching position at John F Kennedy University for being a burlesque dancer. Not because she brought it into her classroom in any way, or discussed it, or encouraged it amongst her students; just because she did it in her spare time.

They claim that students found out and it brought “shock and dismay”. They claim that students found out, her peers found out, and they “lost respect” for her, the hobby brought “ridicule” to the school’s name. Really, there’s a way to add additional sexual ridicule to the name of a man that cheated on his wife on a weekly basis and may or may not have gotten Marilyn Monroe killed? Do these people even live on the same planet as us?

Let’s even ignore the irony of JFK’s name being involved, or ignore that I don’t know of a single California kid who would bat an eye to not even naked dancing. If this were any other hobby of hers, there would be no cause to fire her. Let’s try this.

“It was discovered that one of JFK University’s psychology professors made model railroads in her spare time. It was a love she discovered after experimentation in college, even reaching out as far as miniature wooden airplanes. She had to be fired though, because her students found out and ‘laughed hysterically’ at their teacher’s ‘grandpa hobby’. Ultimately, she brought ‘ridicule’ to the campus, and it was unacceptable.”

Yeah, it’s pretty fuckin’ stupid, right? What does a train collection change about at least ten years’ worth of education?

What does 50’s music and nipple tassels change about at least ten years’ worth of education?

It would seem everything.

There’s something about this society that once a woman embraces her sexuality, she’s a joke.  No matter how much education she has, no matter how much of the world she’s seen, no matter what sort of mother she is, sister, daughter, friend; the label “sexual creature” is applied and all other labels are torn away. Actually, that’s put too nicely. The label “whore” is applied.

If somebody could prove that this is the same for men, I’d have at least a little relief. It’d mean less a hate of women and more a hate of sex. Either way it needs to be fixed in society, but it seems so grossly leaned against women. It goes back to how I started this post in the first place.

The thing is though, I don’t think it can be proven. I don’t think it’s the case at all. I think society hates women. I think almost all societies hate women. I think they have for a long time. Fucking Eve and her damn apple.

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~ by Stefani Vonne on 03/15/2011.

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