Let me explain why I like to pay taxes for school even though I don’t personally have a kid in school:

I don’t like living in a country with a bunch of stupid people.

-John Green
Crash Course World History: Samuri, Daimyo, Matthew Perry, and Nationalism

I’m wordstruck…

Which makes the fact that today is Wordless Wednesday fitting.

Watch The Fault in our Stars Movie Trailer.

<iframe width=”560″ height=”315″ src=”//www.youtube.com/embed/9ItBvH5J6ss” frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen>

Then freak out until June.

French the Llama that’s a long time to wait!

Loves, Mae

PS- Wordstuck is a synonym of speechless.  Even if I just made it up.
PPS- Between now and June is a great time to read TIFOS- mini review 5 stars!
PPPS- In case the embeded doesnt work… http://youtu.be/9ItBvH5J6ss

A Guy’s Guide to Girl’s BC

SpoilerAlert: If you are sensitive to comedy, medical facts, or sensible discussions about adult sexuality, you should stop reading here…

and maybe not come back.  Just sayin’ -honesty and humor are sort of a thing here. (I will always welcome other views- so long as they are presented in love, and with respect for all- but that being said, this is my blog.)

Check this video out:

It is the most concise (I can’t explain the door knob in a 1:33- that is one minute thirty three seconds), clear, accurate, and wonderfully unabashedly direct explanation of “The Pill” as this video I’ve ever seen or heard.

I’m a firm believer in young women (and old women for that matter) taking control of their bodies, and understanding the pros, cons, and science behind their choices.  I am a firm believer in the right to choose (no matter what choice you make).  And I’m a firm believer that men are just as responsible for reproduction as women, and as such, should be involved in the education, discussion, and rights there in.

But not enough young (and old) men know their (and subsequently our) stuff.  “Girl Stuff” is gross, and weird, and alien (because wet dreams were so normal sounding when I was in the seventh grade health class- sarcasm), and so  any attempt at an intellectual (or educational) discussion is rebuffed.

The problem, and prejudice, and educational discrepancy is more than the left vs. right, or man vs. women argument intellectual and political pundents make it out to be.  These problems are radically ingrained in our culture, our educational traditions, even our social norms.  I left that seventh grade health class having a much deeper understanding of the mechanics of reproduction of the male body than I ever got (even through high school) on the female system- even though women’s bodies effectively “bare the brunt” of the whole baby making situation.

So why does something like this matter?  Because roughly half the worlds population can make babies.  And the other half join in on that.  Meaning roughly 100% of humanities physiological adults (adults according to body development, not brains- as exemplified by my big brother- love you D!) are involved in reproduction.

But we still live in a world (rather, I live in an America) where people argue if these simple facts should be told to young adults.  Where this information can be seen as corrupting, and immoral and degrading to society.  Meaning we bury and shame these simple little sciences which affect everyone.  While young people (and old people, too) continue to have sex without protection, leaving them vulnerable to the bigger, much more damaging effects of actual issues: misconstrued medical facts, unwanted pregnancies, being faced with “the right to choose” choice, long term illnesses, injuries, and heartbreaks (not to mention whole new tiny humans who have to be considered).

So watch this video.  And corrupt yourself.

Share this video.  And corrupt the future.

Because knowledge is power, and power over one’s own life is a right no-one, not even your crazy loving parents, should take away.

Loves, Mae

PS- Later on I plan to post on my thoughts about the adult’s right to choose, and the parent’s right to direct children’s moral and science education.  I welcome comments, discussions, and debate- but I ask that you speak (and type) with love for all involved.  XOXO-Mae

I’m starting a new thing for me… Five Friday Favorites.

Now that I’m working a 9-5 8.30-5.30 (stupid labor laws), I have the immense luxury of an actual defined weekend (save the few times a year I have to work on the weekend, or the many many Girl Scout Weekends). With a weekend comes that fantastic/horrible little thing, Friday. It is the worst day of the week- because you wake up with a ticking clock on your happiness/misery, and it is the best day of the week because… FRIDAY.

Without any more blathering… Here are this week’s Five Friday Favorites.

  1. YouTube on Lunch Breaks- because talking with your mouth full is rude… but watching isn’t.
  2. Harry Potter Series & Fandom- Um, yeah.  ‘nough said.
  3. Postcrossing.com – because who doesn’t love getting and sending mail?
  4. Not Dieting (and encouraging people around me to not diet)- skinny isn’t worth happy, or faking healthy in an unsustainable way
  5. Recycling– Even though I live and work in Oregon, this is apparently a struggle in my office- but I am slowly creating converts, and I love it.

What are your five Friday favorites this week?  Tell me in the comments!

Loves, Mae

Inspired: Foolish Oats goes Home

Recently I found Foolish Oats on YouTube randomly.  It was her black and white video montage paired with delicately read insights that let me get lost in the words and images and the false nostalgia for a different, quieter, more intelligent life.  I find myself transfixed, and usually end up having to watch episode twice or three times before I can internalize it.

There was something in particular about this one, I was surrounded by others in the company break room, and utter enthralled.  And so I wrote.

Don’t feel pressured to read it- it’s just a little pen to paper, but here it is, just in case you are interested.


It’s easy to pretend to live, in this quiet city life, when hustle and bustle surround you and you can exist alone.  It is east to live that way.  No friends, no family, just an eclectic gathering of acquaintances and regular strangers- co-workers, baristas, the fluffy dog that walked at the same time she ran.

It is easy to pretend in the city.

But then it is different here, in the borrowed mother’s mini-van where childhood overwhelms the sense of familiarity.  This place, a place no longer belonged to- where from I embarked on the road trudging away from these people in these areas.

But I am here, returning here, for duty, and truth, and the lost nostalgia which has plowed the road for me.  He- here with me, old friend, old man now, everything we though he’d be, driving the future we knew he’d have.  Two sons, names I don’t know, hockey playing growers like we used to be.  And this map I’ve wrestled a thousand times, find our way to a place we once knew.  This city of past of presents.  Fear, loathing, and home.

Here to bring one more son.


Tell Me The Truth

There’s a little white lie we English Literature girls keep to ourselves… not everyone loves Austen, Bronte (x3), and Eliot.

Before you yell “Traitor!” and send me to the gallows let me say:  I generally like my classic literature.  I genuinely adore some of Dickens’ work.  Willa Cather and I had a (one-sided) love affair one Christmas vacation.  I’ve read or am waiting to read just about anything sold in Barnes & Noble’s paperback classic edition- and I’m in the process of buying up whole collections of special print-editions.  The utter truth is that I love stories, and that is because of the groundwork laid by these important and lasting works.

It’s just: Some girls don’t want to be associated with the romance. Some of us don’t want to be associated with the drama. Some of us think our heads might explode if we have to read one more 17th, 18th, or 19th Century Social Drama with too long prose and run on but grammatically correct sentences and antiquated words and oh my God did he just try to sell his daughter? I’m a feminist.. I have most of a Woman’s Study minor (by accident) to prove it!

But there’s another truth. You get a group of us English Literature girls together, and the little white lies fly. It doesn’t matter that you don’t believe in true love, that you work for the Women’s Independence and Killing All Men Society (for the record: I don’t think that particular organization exists).  We’re all like:

I loved 19th Century Women’s Literature. Loved it. Where’s my freaking Mr.Darcy???

And then we go home, and look at the dusty Barnes & Noble classic paperback we spent $1.50 for at Powell’s for a class.  It remains a relic from a semester past: smashed between some other required reading from that History of African Music class and the Chicken Soup book your mom sent, instead of actual chicken soup when you were for-real sick.  This is a book that was never cracked past page 77, because we had 12 others to read, noodles to cook, and couldn’t deal with the weird references to underwear and we feel the tiniest twinge of guilt before reading Twilight before bed.

The truth is these novels were the Twilight of their age (though the fine women of those days kept their male protagonists low to moderate creepy- not the super creepy bedroom window crawlers of today).  They weren’t hugely appreciated at the time- they were trashy, and teaching bad manners, making poor marriage material out of impressionable young women.  And now we think they are brilliant, because they are compelling- if you can get through the verbose prose and the morality and the laundry.

But that is the truth to it, isn’t it?  These stories have lasted and become classics because they are compelling- and nothing is more compelling than getting to watch it.

A YouTube channel called “The Autobiography of Jane Eyre” reminded me of all of this.  Jane Eyre is a perpetual resident of my To Be Read shelf.  I could own upwards of 5 copies, if all my books were unpacked and in the same place.  Adaptation is considered blasphemy in many literary circles- but I’ll tell you this- I had a much bigger reaction Episodes 55 & 56 than I ever did to any Bronte work.

So here’s the little black truth: Some women of the English Literature world have read these classic novels, and loved them, truthfully.  I don’t love Austin, or Bronte, or Eliot, but I will sit and watch adaptations to them all day long.  Because the truth is, I want to know:  Where is my Mr.Rochester??

Tell me your truth: What are your little white lie books?