things of the utmost importance

when you publicly rail against the grammar of others, it becomes...public. if you were reaming yourself for your own grammar, that would be another thing entirely. i'm referring to broader issues like gender equality, too, something you show much less public interest in than you do in GRAMMAR or how much you hate ANNE HATHAWAY. i'm not saying the world would change; i'm just saying you would.

Wed, 22 May 2013 00:19:00 -0400

(cont.) also, going “that’s my opinion! don’t challenge it!” is a super dumb argument. kinda figured an english major could do better than that.

I personally feel like “public” on the Internet and “public” IRL are two different things, but we probably don’t see eye-to-eye there. When you took that tweet of mine and applied it to grammar, something to which I was not initially intending to refer, was that you attempting to…change…me? I’m not going to apologize for being bothered by improper usage, as I can’t really help that it bothers me. You seem to take enormous issue with my “public” defense of grammar—have I ever corrected you to your face? If I have, I do sincerely apologize. In my old age I’m beginning to realize that I can only control my actions and my usage and my language, not that of others, and I feel like a serious dingus for my attempts to try to change others, at least grammar-wise, in the past.

I do not “ream” myself for my own grammar because, in my academic writing where it matters most, my grammar and usage are flawless. If you’d like a writing sample, I’d be more than happy to provide one.

For the record, I do show some amount of “public interest” (in regards to this ‘blog, I suppose) in gender equality—several of my posts over the past year or so have been responses to things I saw on tumblr or elsewhere that were troubling to me as far as their portrayal of gender roles and perceptions, but if you’re going to read selectively I can’t very well control that.

I don’t exactly understand what you’re getting at with the end of your first message when you say “I’m not saying the world would change; I’m just saying you would.” What is the catalyst for this change? I am genuinely confused here—why are you so concerned with changing me? Wouldn’t it be more satisfying for you to let me plod on in my aimless sticklerism so I can continue to apparently entertain you with my fruitless grammarian antics?

The initial point I was trying to get at with my tweet was that I don’t appreciate sports fanaticism. I think that energy could be better focused elsewhere. Where else that may be is up to interpretation—you’re the one who chose to snidely apply it to grammar by coming to my ask box.

Finally, I never said that you can’t challenge my opinion. Everyone is entitled to his or her own opinion, and I appreciate your coming to me with yours. As this is my tumblr, I feel entitled to express my own opinions in and upon it. Your description of my “argument” as “super dumb” is spot-on, as I find this entire exchange to be “super dumb” as well.

Once again, I’m glad we understand one another. Have a nice evening.

imagine if people cared about important things as much as they care about grammar. "but grammar is important." no. s t o p

Fri, 17 May 2013 00:05:00 -0400

Oh, good. I saw this one coming.
Go right on ahead and apply a tweet of mine to something that I personally think is important. That’s about what Twitter is for, right? Expressing personal opinions in whatever serious or ironic capacity floats one’s boat? It’s so nice that you’ve cottoned on.
It isn’t as if it’s a secret that I find proper grammar and syntax to be of more importance in my life than who won or lost the latest sports-game-match. I was generally (not specifically—the fault here lies with me, it’s true) referring to broader issues like gender equality, but interpret as you will. I can’t make you care about the things I care about (like grammar), just as you can’t make me stop caring about the things I care about. Okay? Okay.
Would you like to address any of my other tweets? The ones about butts or pizza? No?
I’m glad we understand one another, Greyface.

Edit: The beautiful irony of this ask is that people do not really care about grammar. If people cared about “important things” as much as they care about grammar…not very much would change, I think. So I will continue to think grammar is important, to count myself among these happy few (and because I can’t help it), and you can continue to really really care about who scored so many goal-unit-baskets this season. This is fine with me. I hope it’s fine with you.

Blorange

Tue, 07 May 2013 21:49:45 -0400

On Friday, I graduated from Northeastern University with my BA in English. In 100 days, I’ll be flying to Scotland to attend the University of Glasgow for my Master’s in modern literature. In the meantime, I’m back in Connecticut to spend time with my family before I leave the country for over a year, and this means I had to clean and move out of the room in my Boston apartment where I’d lived for two years. While cleaning out my desk, I came across a stack of things that various members of my family had sent in the mail: newspaper clippings about Scotland or an author I like from my dad, magazine articles about publishing and cheap recipes from my mom, letters and movie news about The Hobbit from my sister.
I’ve always loved snail mail. My best friend in the entire world, who moved back to England when I moved to Minnesota from California, kept in touch with me through pen pal-style letters for years; whenever my school had a program to sign up for a random international pen pal, I always applied and participated with wild enthusiasm. There’s something about checking the mailbox and finding a nice white envelope with your name and a postmark from a foreign place on it—ripping open that envelope to get at the words inside is better than birthdays, in my mind.
I didn’t realize it until I was a sappy, blubbering pile of tears on my rug, surrounded by letters and clippings, but the fact that members of my family think of me when they’re reading something to the point that they snip it out of whatever publication and seal it up with a note to mail to me—that’s crazy awesome. It’s like all those creased pages from magazines and newspapers are physical evidence of my presence in their minds, and that’s comforting when you’re miles and hours away.
I’ll have to start reading the newspapers and magazines when I’m in Scotland so I can return the favor.

If you have luck, take it, care for it

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 12:07:31 -0400

My roommates and I went up to our roof last night to join the sky-high celebrations that erupted throughout Boston after news spread that Tsarnaev had been taken into custody, and our silly little skyline has never looked more beautiful in the fast-fading light of 9 PM. People were shouting and hooting and literally dancing on rooftops, and the streets were flooded with human relief and good feelings. To everyone on the Internette and otherwise who has reached out and checked up on me this week: Boston is mostly okay, so that means I am too.

kuebiko

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 11:44:00 -0400

have you got any spackling paste or putty?
glue or tape or thread?

I ask because
I appear to be full of chinks and gaps
and slits of light

like an old pair of jeans
worn thin at the knees
smelling slightly of love
and strongly of lonely

it would seem that all I am is in between

But, soft! lace top: Urban Outfittersskirt: American...

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 11:10:00 -0400

But, soft!

lace top: Urban Outfitters
skirt: American Apparel
tights: Simply Vera Wang (aka the best tights)
shoes: Jeffrey Campbell

Distressed Beethoven

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 11:53:13 -0400

I just made myself a macaroni and cheese grilled cheese, which I have never done before.

1. It was delicious and not nearly as messy or difficult to make as I thought it would be,

2. Easy Mac really does make things slightly easier when it comes to portion sizes, considering I only needed about a third of a cup of mac to make this sandwich, and

3. Holy fucking shit I am never eating anything else ever again.

You are as bumpy as a log

Tue, 19 Mar 2013 13:17:00 -0400

I’ve always had a thing for menswear: how proper one looks in a well-executed suit, the rules and tips that go along with dressing well, the subtle accessories and details that round out any ensemble. In the sixth grade, I wore a tie to school every single day without fail—most of the time it was an Avril Lavigne-esque tie-and-t-shirt combo, very expressive of my inner teen turmoil. I’ve been quietly collecting waistcoats and blazers for years, recently my necktie collection doubled in size, and I had always dreamed of wearing variations on a three piece suit, so when the spring semester started I sort of thought “fuck it,” and made my dreams a reality. This means I’ve been stepping out more often than not of late in a button-down Oxford shirt fastened with a necktie (always fashioned in a double Windsor) with a waistcoat or sweater vest buttoned over top, and a blazer thrown over that; my bottom half is always covered in either black skinny jeans or one of my many stupidly short skirts. This is my girl version of menswear, and I always feel like such a boss when I wear my haberdashery; I carry myself differently because looking fly bolsters my confidence, and I get the Manhattan Once-over thrown my way far more often when I’m dressed to the nines.
Last week, I was headed to my literature class from the student center, my big headphones blasting and my boots making a mess of the puddles on the ground. I was wearing my favorite combination of argyle sweater vest, vintage navy double-breasted blazer, bow-tie, and white corduroys. Suddenly, there was a finger in my sternum, and I looked up into the brown eyes of some dude. I slammed my headphones down from my head to my neck and said to him,
“What the fuck?”
To my great surprise, a smile played at the corner of his unshaven lip.
“Why are you wearing a bow-tie?” the guy asked, all six-foot-five of him standing directly in my way and towering over me. I was late. This was not cool.
“Because I like to look nice.” I replied, trying to step past him, but he put his foot in my way.
“Do you have an interview, or something?”
“No! I just like to look nice. Step off.” He tried to put his foot in my way again, but I jumped over his knee and clomp-clomped away, my big ol’ boot heels echoing loudly on the quad cobblestones.
I was pretty blown away by this encounter. Certainly not everyone dresses like this on the daily, but I don’t remember being scheduled for a fucking interrogation, and I’ve definitely never had anyone stop me in my tracks by literally poking me in the collarbone before. It’s fine to wonder and ask questions—someone on campus recently thought I was a visiting professor and asked me about it and we had ourselves a hearty little guffaw—but it’s not cool to be a rude, assumptive asshole. When I’m wondering about what someone is wearing, I usually just go on wondering because interrupting their walk by pestering them with questions would be annoying; when I really really like something that someone is wearing, I’ll usually try to tell them, but I’ll do so as unobtrusively as possible. Being handed a compliment on your outfit is nice; being interrogated at finger-point about your clothing is weird and invasive and uncomfortable—did this guy think I was going to stop and have a nice little conversation with him? Was he hoping to dissuade me from wearing a bow-tie ever again? He at least seemed to take my negative attitude in stride, as if he understood that what he was doing was impolite and sociopathic behavior—was he trying to get a reaction? How hard is it to just be a regular human and let “why is that girl wearing a bow-tie?” fester in your brain rather than getting in her face and interrogating her?
I hope I see him around sometime, and I hope he’s eating something so I can walk up and put my fingers in his food and go “why? Why are you eating this?”

/post/42021232978 It's not someone yelling it at your face and sitting back smugly thinking that they're great because they're male and you're meek and feminine. It's somebody paying a few simple compliments. I don't think you need to freak out over a post that was never intended to cause hurt. The person who wrote that wanted to make girls feel a little better, I think you should just appreciate the sentiment and not rip apart the person who was just trying to make someone smile for a second.

Fri, 15 Mar 2013 15:12:00 -0400

Based on this response, I don’t know if you understand precisely why this photo is problematic. Firstly, the picture is of a book, Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul II, to be precise. This list of “reasoning” is published in a popular series of books that millions of people read. Why is this an issue? I thought I explained quite nicely (though ironically) in my original comments, but I’ll walk you through it again. Hold my hand, and don’t forget to look both ways before you reevaluate your internalized perceptions of gender roles.

This list is not some person “paying a few simple compliments” (and even if it were, I do not find anything on this list to be particularly complimentary). This list is a perfect example of how deeply and thoroughly patriarchy has infected our culture. This list is patronizing. Am I supposed to be flattered that my argumentativeness is perceived as “cute,” rather than valid, according to this list? Am I supposed to appreciate the fact that this list casts all women as pugnacious, dramatic, and weak (points 14, 18, and 20)?

You assert that my response is a “freak out”—any emotional response is immediately over-the-top, right? Showing my passionate disagreement with this list is a big no-no because I’m a girl and I can’t possibly separate emotion from reason, right?

You also suggest that “the person who wrote that wanted to make girls feel a little better.” Make girls feel better about what? Why do women need to feel better? Could it be that we are constantly confused and pulled in a multitude of various directions by the standards of the patriarchal society in which we live? Do we need to be made to feel better because we beat ourselves down for not living up to some ideal that has never been fully explained to us? Why don’t I feel any better after reading this list?

You think that I should appreciate the sentiment, and I think you should take a step back and read what this list is really saying and give “appreciating the sentiment” a try yourself. Or, if you so choose, don’t. Don’t think. Don’t reflect. Read this list, smile, and go on about your day.

luffings

Tue, 12 Mar 2013 13:27:14 -0400

It’s frustrating, sometimes, to see people my age setting parameters for their love lives.
I’ve always thought that if you try to define the love you’re looking for—if you try to know what it looks like before you see it, if you try to understand how it feels before you feel it, if you think you’ll know the words to say before you need to say them, if you have a script that you’ve learned and memorized down to the lighting cues and emotive pauses—your love might pass you by.
Late at night, when you’re sitting on the subway and you feel an arm brush your shoulder, and you look up into bright eyes whose gaze seems to hug yours for just a moment before their owner whisks them away in a gust of movement out the doors and down the platform, remember that looking for something or someone specific in love is like wearing blinders to shut out all the other nicens going by.
So often do I encounter shopping lists of characteristics that one’s love absolutely must have, be it skinny jeans or floppy hair, and while those lists are being hastily written, love is outside walking its dog and hoping for some company. Open your doors and windows and tear up your pages of definitions. Quit ruining love by wanting it so bad, and stop going by a checklist of traits. Don’t worry, don’t fret. Let love happen where it will.

Spent the weekend in NYC with the beautiful Jacqueline, eating...

Sun, 24 Feb 2013 08:35:00 -0500

Spent the weekend in NYC with the beautiful Jacqueline, eating eggs Benedict and watching Doctor Who and helping her turn twenty-two. It was lovely.

"Don’t you know I’m a villain? Every night I’m out killin’, sending everyone..."

Fri, 22 Feb 2013 07:39:59 -0500

“Don’t you know I’m a villain?
Every night I’m out killin’, sending everyone runnin’ like children.
I know why you’re mad at me: I’ve got demon eyes, and they’re looking right through your anatomy—into your deepest fears.
Baby, I’m not from here, I’m from the Nightosphere.
To me, you’re clear; transparent.
You’ve got a thing for me, girl.
It’s apparent.”

- Marshall Lee the Vampire King

Writing about reading about writing about reading

Tue, 19 Feb 2013 08:45:16 -0500

Writing about reading about writing about reading:

operation-critique:

I’m more than halfway through my senior year in college, and tumblr is a godsend: there is no better tool for rapid-fire procrastination, and I’ve carefully curated the dashboard of my main blog into a collection of art, photography, comics, news, and discussion to satisfy my interest in…

I’m doing a directed study in Digital Humanities as part of my final semester at Northeastern, and after a month and change of research and reading on the topic, I’ve devised a project that will manifest itself as a tumblr blog. My posts will be akin to case studies on various aspects of critical response culture on the Internet with a particular focus on tumblr and fandom activity—next week’s is going to focus on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the wild popularity of the Sherlock Holmes character, and the tumblr fandoms involved with Doyle’s works. If you have any interest in keeping up with this little school project of mine, feel free to follow. I’m hoping that, eventually, the work I’m doing at operation-critique will evolve into a thesis that will hold some importance in the academic space; this is an area of discourse in which I’m intensely interested (discussion and response in casual or non-academic contexts), and the opportunity to devote a large chunk of my time to this study is seriously exciting.

chrisbaldie: This is a real conversation that happened between...

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 18:58:00 -0500

chrisbaldie:

This is a real conversation that happened between me and the lovely MacKenzie.

Apparently it amused me so much at the time, I wrote the transcript in the back of a sketchbook and only just found it.

Hey! That person in the hat and the bowtie is me!

DREAMS DO COME TRUE

Thu, 07 Feb 2013 09:43:00 -0500

Are you familiar with the concept of language evolution in regards to english? also that the rules enforced in standard english have little connection to how the english language actually works?

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 14:02:26 -0500

I am familiar with language evolution, and I know that standard English and the way that English actually functions in day-to-day living are two very different things. However, I very much like the “rules enforced in standard [E]nglish” and I appreciate proper writing that mostly follows the rules. I don’t think that it’s possible to follow all the rules of English all the time and still truly express what you’re trying to express, but I like some effort. I also get truthfully, honestly annoyed when I see improper usage like your/you’re, they’re/there/their, it’s/its switches; apostrophe abuse; and general misspellings. I think that these things are easy to learn, catch, and correct; others stand staunchly behind their blatant misuse as if it is a trophy of which to be proud, and I scoff! As I am allowed to scoff.
Chalk it up to my inner perfectionism and tendency to project it onto the world around me (and my resulting constant disappointment), but as I said: it’s something I’m working on quelling and dealing with in general, and I get secretly (and now publicly) pleased when people police themselves on my behalf. It just makes me happy.

Facial Cheeks

Wed, 06 Feb 2013 07:59:00 -0500

It’s a little bit odd to realize that you’ve successfully and accidentally played a mind game. I’m not talking about any particular person here, but I’ve noticed recently that I’ve been able to invade the brains of some people around me.
As is probably apparent to you if you know anything about me at all, I am a grammar prescriptivist and stickler 98% of the time: I believe language should be used properly as often as possible to ensure the clear communication of ideas, and that other 2% is reserved for creative writing—I’m completely alright with breaking the rules, as long as one knows what rules he or she is breaking.
I used to publicly and obnoxiously correct verbal grammatical mistakes: loudly pointing out incorrect usage of “I/me,” scoffing at the use of “irregardless,” making a disgusted face at anyone bold enough to contract “you” and “all” into “y’all.” When that awful movie “Two Weeks Notice” came out, I walked around with a Sharpie pen à la Lynne Truss and added the appropriate apostrophe: “Two Weeks’ Notice.” It was vandalism, truly, of others’ speech and of public advertisements, but to me grammar is important enough to warrant such vigilanteism.
In recent years, I’ve backed off from correcting people. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve directly verbally corrected someone during a conversation over the past year, and I’m pretty proud of that fact. I realized that others begrudge me my corrections, however actually right I may be: it’s fucking annoying to be corrected, even when you’re wrong, and I thought that perhaps my correcting was engendering bad usage just to spite me (my parents are evil masters at the craft of “bad grammar just to make MacKenzie angry”). So I stopped, but I didn’t let the hazy cloud of grammar prescriptivism that precedes my presence dissolve around me; instead, I just made it abundantly clear that I make every effort to speak and write correctly (Twitter notwithstanding), and I think that everyone else should, too. However, I can’t make anyone do what I think is right and so I think of myself as leading by example, even if nobody is paying attention.
Even more recently, I’ve noticed that this sort of silent, lurking grammarian attitude works to my advantage far more often than outspoken prescriptivism. By making my status as an English major, writing tutor, and #1 fan of English grammar known, I apparently planted some seeds of language consciousness in friends of mine, and those seeds have flowered into minor paranoia. If someone fucks up their grammar around me, they correct it while I nod happily or maybe press the tips of my fingers together and cackle madly. Simply through my action of making my obsession with English known without imposing it on others, they in turn apparently respect? fear? my attitude about language and see fit to make sure their own usage is up to par around me. It’s gone so far as people making typos on Facebook and then *correcting themselves in a later comment if it’s on my wall or if I’m involved in the thread.
It’s inception, plain and simple, and it’s insanely satisfying: either way, people are noticing their mistakes and making an effort to use English correctly, and that’s all I cared about in the first place.

eat more gyros

Mon, 04 Feb 2013 08:14:00 -0500

Fuck. I didn’t hear what you just said. Was it a question? An exclamation? Shit, the “pardon?” moment has passed—what the hell did you say? I look into your eyes and note the shape of your ‘brows in the hope of digging out a context clue, but alas! Your face is as blessedly blank as my head.
Hurriedly, worriedly, I float a “yes!” out there because it is almost always the right answer, unless the question is “are you a fan of cancer?”
But, apparently, it’s the wrong answer this time, too, as you cock your head and peer at me oddly with pursed lips and wrinkled forehead. This is the point at which I would love to press the pause button and grab your shoulders and say “I’m really sorry that I didn’t hear what you said and then felt uncomfortable asking you to repeat yourself! I replied with an affirmative because I panicked! I didn’t realize you were asking me whether or not you should break up with your boyfriend! I didn’t mean to sound so excited! Let’s just pretend that didn’t happen and try again!”
Sadly, this doesn’t work because social situations don’t have pause buttons, and even if they did I would have lost my remote a long time ago.

Oh, wow. 1. No pressure, or anything. Also: it is not the girl...

Fri, 01 Feb 2013 09:07:00 -0500

Oh, wow.

1. No pressure, or anything. Also: it is not the girl who smells good—it’s her shampoo, or her perfume, or her deodorant.
2. Let’s be real, she nestles into your neck because she doesn’t want to crush her ear between your collarbone and her own skull. But, you know, chalk it up to mysterious lady powers if you want.
3. As a lady of above-average size, I just gotta say that sometimes it ain’t so easy.
4. Girl kisses have magical healing properties, just like the tears of a phoenix.
5. “Oh my God you guys, how cute is it when girls put food in their mouths? When guys eat it’s for survival, but when girls do it’s like novel behavior! How absolutely adorable of them, feeding themselves! Awwww.”
6. “I don’t even gotta tell you guys, you already know—ladies take FOREVER to get dressed! Nevermind the hundreds of demons they battle with in front of the mirror while trying to choose an outfit that is comfortable, cute, and flattering but that won’t garner them unwanted male attention…the real payoff is seeing that ass in those jeans, amirite?”
7. Yes, definitely. Always. I’m really, really warm, and this warmth is here just for you. Trust me.
8. But only if “no matter what” is yoga pants and a t-shirt, because that’s as casual as girls ever get, right?
9. “SO cute how girls are constantly beat down by society’s unrealistic expectations of female beauty! They’re so desperate for positive feedback and praise, and that is SO ADORABLE!”
10. “That they can even form sentences is just so charming, but oh man you guys, when my girl starts trying to argue? I just want to pat her head like a little endangered panda! Oh, you! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
11. You act like our hands and heads have homing devices, dude. My hands don’t “find” yours—my eyes see where your hands are and send impulses to my brain, and those impulses tell my hands to grabby grab yours. Stop it.
12. All women smile in exactly the same way.
13. “Shitty.” You’re into feeling shitty. Good to know.
14. “Women LOVE to fight, amirite guys? Can’t even go an hour without an argument!” And apparently this is something that guys LOVE about girls.
15. Those exclusive kisses are the only reason you should ever do anything nice for a girl. Even if you just helped her carry her groceries to her car and you don’t know who she is, EXPECT SOME SMOOCHING because THOSE ARE EVIDENTLY THE RULES.
16. Those three words, in tandem, will also usually lead to kisses. I + love + you = kisses, so don’t worry about throwing those words about frivolously. You might break her heart by misleading her, but at least you got some of those awesome girly kisses, right?
17. Shut the fuck up.
18. A girl in emotional turmoil is just so sweet and cute. The way she collapses, shaking violently from head to toe and choking on her own spine-wracking sobs, into your muscled arms, is just so lovely and wonderful that you don’t even care what’s wrong. Also, are those her boobs pressed up against your abs? Nice.
19. This one’s a trick! Girls ONLY cry over silly things! If a girl is crying about it, that’s how you know it’s silly! What a handy indicator.
20. “Ha! Women! Women are WEAK! That didn’t HURT!”
21. “Oh, shit. Maybe that did kinda hurt. Ahh…fuck. Gonna have a bruise there. Oh, you’re sorry? Ha, ha! Sorry for -ah- what? You think you -ow- hurt me? How -ehh- cute!”
22. “I just love hearing your voice—cracked with tears and garbled as you sniffle watery snot further up your nose—over the phone as you confess that you miss me. Your deep, crushing sadness and loneliness is evidence that our relationship is strong.”
23. “Sure, I miss you too, but I will never tell you because I’m A MAN and men don’t HAVE FEELINGS.”
24. Changing the world over a silly thing that made a girl cry? This last one is obviously a joke.

Nothing about her intelligence, her strength, her class, her personality, her sense of humor. It’s all “the way she kisses,” “the way she looks,” “the way she does.” According to this list, guys like some warped perception of femininity. They do not like girls.

please don’t leave me alone but don’t come any closer either

Sat, 15 Dec 2012 09:19:54 -0500

please

don’t leave me alone

but

don’t come any closer

either