I think it's important for everyone to realize that a lot of good work gets done by crazy people.Read More
There were many social media celebrities spawned out of Hurricane’s Harvey and Irma. Intense situations bring out extreme feels in humanity. Some people write checks to their local not for profit, some make posts about leaving the bathroom door open to let the wind through and some, some guys are just trying to get a little affection.
Enter Jilted in Jacksonville.
This Craigslist ad offers a place to ride out the storm in Jacksonville for the right woman or women. It is succinct and to the point yet for some reason, women started losing their mind.
Before I go any further, allow me to explain myself. I am a feminist. But I am a feminist that is also a bit of a butch lesbian. I have a male energy about me, and I get the privilege of watching football with the dudes and talking about boobs and ALSO I get to sit in on/participate in period bitching with the ladies. Lesbians, the swiss army knife of humans.
In short, I don’t sleep with dudes, but many of them are my friends and I often see situations where being the white dude in the situation is the only thing the poor schmuck has done wrong.
So. in the name of humanity and moving our society forward in a healing direction, I would like to break down for you exactly why this guy is feminism in action and if you are a woman who is offended by this ad, you aren’t a feminist, you are spoiled. I also know this means my feminist friends will tell me why I’m wrong. Balance, amirite?
The title of the post is “do you need a place to ride out the storm” He didn’t even put “ride” in quotation marks, italicize it or add a creepy, winky emoji
He states his status as single, and requests that you be single. He respects boundaries and parameters, y’all.
HERicane. HERicane. HERicane. Smooth, man. Real smooth.
He clarifies that he lives alone, even though he doesn’t have to, cause let’s be honest, if you have time for this post we know you don’t have many distractions.*Here he secretly sent a message to single straight women that he knows how to do his own laundry. I realize these heteronormative tells might not be easy to detect for my queer lefty family, but this is a catch in their world, trust me.*
He hates to sleep alone. VULNERABILITY. Isn’t this what we have been asking from our men? If we really want to CoExist, don’t we need to stretch beyond ourselves and see where this guy is coming from. He has a need, he is clearly trying to communicate it. And he said cuddling is more fun, not “imma stick it in ya”
He is clear and direct about his relationship to substances. Ever think you’re about to have a great camping weekend only to realize your camping buddy is gonna be drunk the whole time? This guy just wants to smoke a joint, cuddle and watch the storm blow in maaaaaaaaan and he is respectful enough to tell you it might smell like weed in his house. The house he is offering as shelter to you. Fucking. Gentleman.
He indicates a clean home ( another secret message to the single older women that he doesn’t need a mama) This dude has game you guys.
He objectifies himself. He’s 5’8, 160 lbs, blue eyes. He includes a photo of his face, well lit, with no attempts to disguise his gold chain. This is him, and he is open for business, ladies.
“I’ve always wanted to be with two ladies lol so we can work something out” he literally just said, hey, if you feel uncomfortable alone and have a friend who also lives in a flood zone, bring them along! Or maybe that was a secret nod to the lesbians? Maybe a once in a lifetime flood is a great time to go for that threesome. I mean YOLO, right? Either way, he is clear about what he likes and even had a nervous “lol”. That's downright endearing.
You must respond with picture and TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT TO DO OR ARE LOOKING FOR. Once again, he is communicative, sets his own boundaries and asks what yours are. He shames no one, has room to spare and would rather spend it cuddling than talking football. Winner.
I tried to find the post to respond to him, but it had already been removed. It started popping up all over my news feed yesterday so the poor guy probably started to get mean emails about how he felt entitled to women’s bodies. Eye. Roll.
Here’s the thing. Riding out a hurricane can take weeks if power is lost. This man offered shelter and that also likely means water and food that could be his if this turned into a real life or death situation. We are talking about Florida. It will be 100 degrees for days on end post storm. If you don’t have electricity, you’re definitely going to need water. He does NOT have to offer shelter to a stranger and if he wants to set some parameters for his home, so be it . A woman might've emailed him and said " I don't fuck until month three" and maybe they played scrabble by candlelight and are in love now.
My point? Let’s stop shaming humans for being, human. If this guy’s post read “suck my cock, save your life” then yes, by all means we should storm in tampons blazing and burn the fucker down. But, it didn’t. It was honest, open and vulnerable, the one thing we’ve been telling our men to be. Maybe don’t shit all over it next time?
PS. the least feminist thing to do is to rant online about how some other woman shouldn’t be interested in this. Hericane man might be her fucking jam. Mind your business.
Originally published August 12, 2014
Most comedians are taking an inventory of some sort today. Whether it is an inventory of their own struggles or of those in their circle of comedy buddies, it ishappening all across the globe. A large majority of us get it. I thought I got it years ago, but I didn’t. Until I did.
A mere 10 years ago, I struggled to understand friends battling depression, panic attacks and manic behavior. I had always been “pretty well-rounded when dealing with tragedy.” Those were my therapist’s words, not mine. Therapist? What does a well-rounded person need with a therapist, you ask? I’ll give you the cliff notes. There was a short period in my life, 3 years or so, that just wouldn’t stop kicking my ass and so, my brain broke. Just.like.that. I remember the moment it happened as clearly as if I had broken my leg. It was that profound of a moment. I could almost hear the SNAP in my brain. I thought to myself, “so THIS is what a nervous breakdown feels like, huh.”
That is what people who can’t comprehend things they cannot see, don’t get. It is different than being sad about a bummer thing that happened to you. It is a fundamental shift in the way a brain works, in the same way a broken bone is a fundamental shift in its composition. The difference is when we break a bone, our friends rush to our side and offer to go grocery shopping. When you break your brain, people tell you to get your shit together. But your shit is broken. Your brain is a clusterfuck of thoughts and emotions, each shitty thought ricocheting like its an endless game of BINGO. Each haphazardly bouncing to the forefront at random while some mysterious voice calls out the writing on the ball. “Why were you just rude to that nice lady, asshole,” “stop wasting your time, you don’t have the talent,” or ” of course she will leave you, look at you.” Whatever your struggles, they will pop into your head on repeat, over and over and over again. Just wanting the game to end. For someone to call “BINGO!” Anyone but you, that is.
Let me be clear. What was happening to me at the time was something I DIDN’T BELIEVE IN. Yet, it continued. I was in no place financially to run off and heal my brain. Few of us ever are. Rarely can one call into work “crazy” and check out for a month and let the swelling go down. If I had a broken leg, sure, I would have been given time to let it heal. But on a broken brain, you just keep going. You add more stress to what is already there. Compound stress. One on top of the other. Until you are at maximum capacity. That kind of strength gets applauded when it is applied to a physical injury (think of Kerri Strug and her Olympic glory) but oftentimes goes unnoticed when your brain is broken and you try to stay in the game of life. And worse, if you check out, people will say you chose to quit. Would ANYONE have blamed Kerri Strug for checking out and not jumping on an injured ankle? Not likely. But folks will run to the front of the line to judge Robin Williams. Some will go so far as Matt Walsh and claim to KNOW that it was a choice, plain and simple. I don’t know Matt Walsh and I respect his opinion. But to him I say, “I KNOW MAN! I used to be just like you! And now I am on the other side. Do your best to stay where you are buddy, trust me on this one.”
Of course killing yourself is a choice. It isn’t homicide. But if anyone thinks a normally functioning brain comes up with suicide as an option, they are ill-informed in the mechanics of our brain. Furthermore, if someone implies that choice is made out of selfishness, they don’t understand that the LAST thing a suicidal person thinks is that anyone will care if they are gone. That is part of the jedi mind tricks your brain has in store for you. It is broken and bruised and wants to be done. You are the only one that can help your brain put a stop to the constant insanity.
I’m not sure why I’m writing this, honestly. In upcoming weeks, there will be talk of the “dark side” of comedians. This is a real thing. I don’t know if comedians are more susceptible to this “dark side” than other artists, or if it is just the club I belong to, so those are the people I know. What I do know is that instead of throwing your ego and emotions into a subject you may know nothing about (like I used to do) try trusting it is just something you don’t understand and hope to god you never do.
What I do know is that I used to be in the majority. Strong mental capacity. Mad coping skills. A joke and a smile kind of gal. Unable to comprehend suicide or depression or why my buddy started crying. Until it happened to me. I made it through it, and I am thankful for it.