Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Dress Shopping

Amy and Bee and I went wedding dress shopping in Sacramento yesterday- Ryan was there too, although I am fairly certain he didn't know what he had stumbled into. It was a sodden miserable day, and we visited every freaking vintage store listed on yelp.

Long story short, they all sucked. I was looking for a fabulous cocktail dress, possibly from decades past. The first store resold disposable fashion. (So much zebra print.) The second had some fabulous coats, and many many beaded things- but I'm thirty years too young to shop there. The third store had been replaced with a bicycle shop, and the fourth....

Well, it sold secondhand lingerie. And bondage gear. And sex toys. And Zoot suits.

No dresses.

So we went to the mall and found a very nice dress. It's pale lavender. The saleslady cooed when I said it was for my wedding. I also tried on pretty much everything in the prom department. And I bought a suit, so I can fight with my mother about wearing jeans to interviews. Also, I am so epically bad at navigating Sac that I think Ryan hates me now.

I am convinced that clothes shopping is a trap meant to subdue and distract women from the real meat of things. My dream is to have C's wardrobe: endless stacks of t-shirts and underwear and jeans, with four neatly stored outfits for special occasions. I hope lavender dress 1a can become my second special occasion outfit. The suit is #3.

The wet woolly weather eventually trapped me in a little town along the I-5 corridor, where I spent the night in a cheap hotel watching TV and sweating in my skivvies. I'm not trying to kickstart a porn movie- apparently everywhere I go now has the heater modulator broken- set on 'high'. (This is also true in my car.)

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

At least I got it out of the bookstore...

Fifteen posts in January, two in February. That's the sort of trend we want to see.

So I went to San Diego last week to see... people without nicknames. What should I call y'all? It was lots of fun- C got to hang out with a former roommate and play video games and bicker in loud voices, I found someone else who follows my feminazi blogs; there was a dog with exceptionally soft ears and good food and slow lorrises and a tortoise fight. Also I bought some books. (Shocker)

One of these books is Madame Bovary's Ovaries- it's about how classic literature reflects things we've found about evolutionary psychology. It sounds like a worthy premise, but the book is terrible. There are no end notes, for starters.

Shouldn't such a book have a decent understanding of the literature discussed? I've read five Dickens novels- not one has a secret relative aiding the main character. The author states that this is the unifying theme in Dickens- like matrimony in Austen. Speaking of Austen- there are many ways to interpret Mr. Darcy arranging Lydia and Wickham's marriage, but I don't think his protective instincts towards children even enter the picture. There's an early 20th century theme where women discover that they are more than objects- please do not summarize that as ladies being happier when banging rockin' dudes. Let's just assume I yelled about sexism for about five minutes there.

I'm not even going to get into what he said about Lolita and menstruation.

The science is really formulaic. Did you know that adolescent males often disagree with their fathers? Did you know that males freak out about paternity? Did you know that stepparents and children often do not get along? Did you know that science has a reason for this? I was hoping for new concepts.

For instance, why not illustrate the grandmother principle using the Little House series? When the Ingalls live near their extended family little favors- like maple sugar, rennet, and help with the harvest- are constantly being passed around. During this period, all the children survive, no one becomes blinded or consumptive, and they eat things besides wild game and cracked wheat. Oh, and Proust survives with his genteel poor parents because his grandparents take them in. Grandmothers are similarly important to child survival in Toni Morrison and I, Claudius. (They survive. What more do you want?)

If you're going to talk about Austen, why blather about hypergamy? When you are poor, it is a good idea to marry a rich person. Duh. Why not talk about resource concentration due to primogeniture? It's one of the hidden themes of early European literature- generations of people willing to abandon most of their children so that a few can continue to be rich.

Why not talk about different theories for the survival of homosexual traits? Of forming complex social networks as safety lines, instead of just marrying the right dude? Of the advantages a female reaps due to cuckolding her mate, rather than just the disadvantages to the mate? Of limiting the number of offspring one has, delaying the date where one starts bearing offspring, and allowing bachelors and spinsters? Of generous uncles who neglect their own children?

My biggest pet peeve is in the mate selection chapter. He refers to what sounds like a fascinating study- comparisons of desired traits in mates across several cultures. I'd love to read more: please see no damn end notes. The author goes on and on about how males in most cultures seek young, attractive females, and females seek wealthy, high status males. He cheerfully explains that because of this dichotomy the war between the sexes will never be resolved and it is foolish to try. Then he states another finding from the survey to prove a point about the bitter rules society forces us to live by. Apparently every single culture has two traits that both sexes place in the top three traits one seeks in a mate: intelligence and kindness. Damn society for punishing us for stealing and cheating and driving drunk! The man is keeping us down!

Hold that little factoid in your hearts, chickens. Throughout the world, a majority prefers mates who know not to poke sleeping rhinos with sticks and are pleasant enough to let others know this is a bad idea. I have a friend (not, I think, a reader of this blog) who constantly bitches about how he can't get a girlfriend because he's short and doesn't have a shiny car. Dude. Dude. You lost your last girlfriend because you mocked her religion all the time, told stories about getting high at her work parties, and drove you both deep into debt buying coffee and computer games. You lost your last girlfriend because you weren't smart enough to think these were asshole things to do.

Keep in mind that nearly a hundred years of evolutionary psych was written by men- only now are we seeing papers on the terrible physical costs of motherhood to mammals, the other side of harem infanticide, and the benefits of mating with low status males.

Oooo, I think I'm supposed to talk about wedding dress shopping next week

Friday, November 6, 2009

Maui

is full of industrial areas overgrown with plants. For some reason, this combination has always pleased me. An abandoned lot full of invasive species makes me depressed, but if the blackberries and hops are crawling over rusted pipes or aluminum siding, I feel deep satisfaction.

It might not be that full of plants and abandoned (or active) factories- but Amy's avoiding the highways and barreling down cane roads instead.

Amy took me out to the best bookstore ever- a shack stuffed full of slightly moldy books with a live chicken in the philosophy section. All books are ten cents. Amy bought some books on 1950s agriculture, and some books on how the environmental movement is crazy. (this way other people can't buy them) I bought a whole bunch of classic science fiction because such books should cost a dime. Upon return, she stole a couple of my books.

I've tried stealing "Soil, the 1957 Yearbook of Agriculture" but it's a tough read.