Science, Boobies, and Breast Cancer

October is Breast Cancer awareness month. There are all sorts of days and weeks and months designated to promoting awareness of worthy causes, but breast cancer is especially important to me since my mother is a survivor. She was diagnosed the summer before my senior year of high school, which would be a little over four years ago. My mom was very lucky in that she caught the cancer early because of her persistent self examination. She felt a lump, but the doctors didn’t believe her – she nagged them and had more than one mammogram before they realized she did, in fact, have breast cancer. If she hadn’t been checking herself and been so diligent, I’m afraid to think what would have happened to her.

I have to admit, at the time I wasn’t really too worried. It was probably a combination of me being young and naive, and knowing that she had caught it early enough that her prognosis was good. My general mantra for dealing with bad things in life is don’t worry about what may happen, just do your best to avoid it and fret when it actually does happen. To me, we just had to be level headed, get treatment, and hope for the best. If her status worsened, then I could start freaking out. Not only do I have an oddly unemotional approach to life, but my mom was a fighter. She tried not to let it show how sick the chemotherapy made her, or how sad she was about losing her hair. Instead she would buy trendy hats or talk about how maybe she’d be more stylish by keeping her hair short after her treatment.

She even said the cancer didn’t upset her – the thing she feared the most is that she wouldn’t be able to watch my senior golf season because she would be too weak (I was the captain of my team and one of the best players in the region). My mom scheduled her chemo and radiation around my golf schedule, so she would be sick on my practices and well enough to walk with my Dad and follow me during my matches and tournaments.

She would brag to the nurses how her daughter was going to go study genetics and maybe solve all of these problems. While I’m not in cancer research and there’s not going to be some magical “cure” that works for every type of cancer, she still recognizes the roll that science plays in saving lives. I’ve said before that my mom is sort of a deist, but I don’t remember a single time her asking for people to pray for her, or referencing religion in any way. What I do remember is discussing treatments, what certain chemicals do, how radiation actually works… How I was learning about cancer in human genetics, and she would ask me how exactly cancer starts, how likely you are to get it, if her cancer means I’ll get breast cancer, if certain genetic tests were worth while… We talked about science.

Science saves lives, and it can only get better at saving lives if they have money and support. Visit the National Breast Cancer Foundation for information or to donate. Susan G. Komen for the Cure has a good review on breast self exams, for those of you with boobies (or with girlfriends whose boobies you like to prod). For those of you in the twitterverse, you can participate in #boobiewednesday to show your support for breast cancer research by tweeting about it and changing your avatar to a photo of your chest (yet more incentive to follow me on twitter*)!

I know there are some feminists who hate boob campaigns, like selling shirts that say “I Love Boobies”, because they say it reduces woman to their breasts. To an extent, I understand. Breast cancer research isn’t about saving boobs, it’s about saving women. If a woman has lost her breasts, that doesn’t make her any less human. But I don’t think these movements mean any harm. They’re just exploiting people’s infantile humor (omg boobies lol) in order to raise money for a good cause. It would be lovely if people would just donate money out of the goodness of their heart, but they don’t…so the way I see it, let’s milk boobie humor (haha, get it?) for all it’s worth. In the end, it’s saving lives.

*No, you don’t get a bigger version of that pic. You’ll have to live with 48 pixels.

Blogging is serious business

It seems like I’ve been on a trend of ranty/serious blogging lately. While I enjoy reading the discussions that go on in the comments, they also start to drain on me after a while. So, here, have something silly:

Me: Will you take my picture? I want a before shot, while I’m still female
Friend: Sure. No, pose more girly.
Me: KayAmerica’s Next Top Model, I am not. I can totally imagine Nigel telling me that my hand looks like a claw or Tyra saying I’m not smizing enough (yes, I fully expect you all to shun me for watching that stupid show). Oh, and sunburn from our Pastafarian preaching, yay!

But then the clock struck 8, and instead of turning into a pumpkin, I turned into……a skeevy used car salesman! I mean, a male! Actually, with my hair down I looked eerily like Penn Jillette, which would explain my magic trick of making my D-cups disappear.

Yes, Friday night I held a drag party. I think that’s an acceptable excuse for not blogging.

Chop Suey for Charity

Not sure why none of you suggested this one, but I thought it was the most hilarious pick. Keep in mind I’m embarrassing myself for charity. Enjoy the silly singing and complimentary boob jigglage.

Thanks Mark for the backup vocals.

(Sorry it’s not the full song…camera battery died right when it cut off =( )

This is post 25 of 49 of Blogathon. Pledge a donation to the Secular Student Alliance here.

A Catholic Atheist

Hi everyone! My name is Vanessa and this is my first blog post that will be read by people other than my close friends. Hooray!

When asked to guest post, my first thought was to divulge all of Jen’s dirty secrets, as I had been her roommate a couple years ago (and incidentally will be again in a few days). Unfortunately, I couldn’t really think of a whole lot to share (though she does get quite a collection of dirty socks under her desk). So instead, I am going to share my atheist conversion story.

I grew up Catholic. My parents are Catholic and we went to church every weekend. I went to Sunday School (though it was never on Sundays) from 1st through 11th grade.I was baptized, confirmed, reconciled, and had my first Eucharist (eating the bread and drinking the wine, for you non-Catholics) all before I was 9 years old.When I was young, I was all into this. I mean, what else was I supposed to think? My parents told me this was the truth and I had no reason to believe that they were wrong.

It was probably around 7th or 8th grade, when I started taking serious science classes, that I began to question my beliefs. In high school, I became a critical thinker and started analyzing religion.Most of it didn’t make any sense to me. But I wanted it to be true, so I tried to hold on. That didn’t last long, however, because by 11th grade, I had given up on trying to make sense of religion. I remember watching the deleted scenes of Donnie Darko in which Donnie is talking to his therapist. She described an agnostic as “One who is skeptical about the existence of God but does not profess true atheism.” I decided that described me. That same year in English class, one of our spelling test words (yes, I actually had spelling/definition tests in 11th grade) was agnostic. The definition our teacher gave was “someone who doesn’t care whether God exists or not.” I was offended by that. I cared very deeply, because I was still trying to work out which side of the fence I was actually on. Incidentally, this was the same teacher that canceled our school’s annual Haunted House because it promoted demons and Satan and the like.

When I got to college, I was still pretty firm in my agnosticism. I made friends with a bunch of other agnostics and some atheists. Being around them and not being forced to go to church every day, I realized that the more I thought about it, the more ridiculous the idea of a god seemed to me. So by the beginning of my second year at college, I began defining myself as an atheist.

That is where I stand currently, and I am proud of it. However, I can’t bring myself to tell my parents or the rest of my family. I feel like it would greatly disappoint them. I feel like they would think they failed somehow in raising me. One day I hope to come out to them, but until then I’ll just continue with my secret life.

This is post 16 of 49 of Blogathon. Pledge a donation to the Secular Student Alliance here.

What should I wear?

In less than three weeks I’ll be at the Creation Museum with PZ’s enormous horde of heathens. But I’m having a serious problem, and I need your help.

I don’t know what blasphemous/nerdy shirt to wear. I have too many!

Here are my favorite options, and there’s a poll at the bottom where you can tell me what I should wear.

Official club t-shirt
*Quote is on back
Pros: School pride! Self pride since I designed it. Comfortable
Cons: Loose fitting, less boobage for others to enjoy

You Say Tomato, I Say Lycopersicum esculentum
Pros: Delightful biological nerdiness
Cons: So nerdy only biologists may get it (I’ve had this problem)

Spiritual Symphony Fin
Pros: Awesome looking, Jesus in a rock band will probably annoy the creationists
Cons: Must constantly deal with people asking me who the dude on the right is (They say Mohammad, I say Moses so I won’t be destroyed)

Biblical Disaster
Pros: Will be absolutely amazing to wear in the room that recreates the Ark
Cons: Older shirt and a little less comfortable

Stand Back (xkcd)
Pros: Irony of trying science in the Creation Museum. xkcd is awesome. This shirt gives me super boobs
Cons: May be mauled by atheist men for being an atheist chick who likes xkcd. Wait, maybe not a con afterall…

So, what do you think?

I really probably shouldn’t have added that last option, but I couldn’t resist. If you’re going to be a smartass, at least vote for a real option too ;-P

EDIT: Oi, there’s actually a little poll widgit there, but it’s no showing up in Google Reader. It does work on my website though. Damn you technology!

It’s officially summer!

Why? While walking to lab today, I got my first cat call of the year. Woo. I don’t know if there’s something about warm weather that gets guys all worked up, or if it’s the fact that I’m no longer wearing jackets and sweaters that hide my boobage*, but this always happens in the summer. Seriously, can someone with more testosterone than me explain this phenomenon to me? I really don’t get why guys think it’s so awesome to hang halfway out of their car whistling and yelling nonsensical flirtations to some random girl. I never know if I should be flattered, or if they’re just doing it sarcastically to mock me…

Me: I don’t get catcalling, like while you’re driving away quickly. What’s the point?
Male Friend: I think it’s more about the guys in the group… guys don’t do it alone
Me: Yeah, it was the passenger in a car. I just don’t get it
Male Friend: Oh, so he was a Scrub. You don’t want none of that.
Me: lol scrubs don’t get no love from me, don’t worry

*I’ve been told that I have “surprise boobs.” Most of my shirts come up to my neck so no gratuitous cleavage, and from about September to April I’m wearing sweaters that apparently flatten me out. I’ve caused more than one guy to go wide eye with shock the first time they see me shirtless. This is why I don’t get girls that flaunt cleavage all the time – it’s so much more fun to take them by surprise! That being said, my threadless shirts are pretty tight in the chest, so I guess that shows them off a bit. You know what, I can’t help that they make those shirts for skinny A cup girls… Wow, I’ve been a bit obsessed with boobs lately, haven’t I? I can’t stop talking about them! Boobs! Boobies! Breasticles! Ahhhhhh!!!

It's officially summer!

Why? While walking to lab today, I got my first cat call of the year. Woo. I don’t know if there’s something about warm weather that gets guys all worked up, or if it’s the fact that I’m no longer wearing jackets and sweaters that hide my boobage*, but this always happens in the summer. Seriously, can someone with more testosterone than me explain this phenomenon to me? I really don’t get why guys think it’s so awesome to hang halfway out of their car whistling and yelling nonsensical flirtations to some random girl. I never know if I should be flattered, or if they’re just doing it sarcastically to mock me…

Me: I don’t get catcalling, like while you’re driving away quickly. What’s the point?
Male Friend: I think it’s more about the guys in the group… guys don’t do it alone
Me: Yeah, it was the passenger in a car. I just don’t get it
Male Friend: Oh, so he was a Scrub. You don’t want none of that.
Me: lol scrubs don’t get no love from me, don’t worry

*I’ve been told that I have “surprise boobs.” Most of my shirts come up to my neck so no gratuitous cleavage, and from about September to April I’m wearing sweaters that apparently flatten me out. I’ve caused more than one guy to go wide eye with shock the first time they see me shirtless. This is why I don’t get girls that flaunt cleavage all the time – it’s so much more fun to take them by surprise! That being said, my threadless shirts are pretty tight in the chest, so I guess that shows them off a bit. You know what, I can’t help that they make those shirts for skinny A cup girls… Wow, I’ve been a bit obsessed with boobs lately, haven’t I? I can’t stop talking about them! Boobs! Boobies! Breasticles! Ahhhhhh!!!

Exercise :(

So today I went with a couple of friends to the gym. Ohhhhh boy. To give you some perspective, the last time I jogged/ran/did any sort of real physical activity was in my high school freshman gym class six years ago. Well, I played golf competitively through high school, but walking for 5 hours with a heavy bag on your back is only good for so much. It kept my weight down but I was still a weakling.

So, yeah. Today was a little rough. I’m going to predict that I’m going to be very sad when I try to get out of bed tomorrow morning and all I can do is roll onto the floor. My 15 minute walk to lab will be fun. Of course, this is exactly why I need to exercise – because I’m hideously out of shape and I’ve gained about 10 pounds in the last year. I know I’m still within the normal weight range for my height, and I by no means look fat, but there’s this little nagging voice in my head saying “If you don’t get in shape now it’s all downhill from here.” My friend promises me he’ll make a regimen for me that will avoid my boobs. Because really, I’ll be sad if the first thing to go are my D cups instead of my…well, anything else, really.

Hmmm, now that I think of it, my weight gain is perfectly correlated with a decline in sex, and the 3 pounds I’ve lost in the last month are…well, you understand. I guess what I really need is some sexercising. I think that’s a work out regimen we can all agree on.

Boobs and Atheism

Man, I just can’t stop talking about boobs lately.

Anyway, Friendly Atheist shared this idea for the “Atheist Bust Campaign” the other day:

Other than the fact that it’s hard to read (should be one phrase per cup!), I personally thought it was hilarious. Bus. Bust. Har har. A play on words, plus it’s a bit ridiculous – who would expect to see this on a bra if you’re getting hot an heavy with some girl? What a silly way to advertise! Funny, right?

“Do we really need to objectify women to make our case? This seems pretty tasteless to me.”

“I know it seems to be the consensus that anyone calling this sexist needs to “lighten up,” but I’m pretty sure this is exactly what stopped a lot of people from listening to Peta (in addition to a variety of other hypocrisies of course, but this is one reason). Objectification is bad no matter who does it, and it’s especially annoying as a feminist to see another cause I care about wanting to use it in order to reach out to nonbelievers.”

“I find the ad mildly offensive and somewhat humorous, but I’d be much less annoyed if there were another ad showing off a close up of men’s filled out briefs. But then that begs the question of what exactly do a bra and briefs have to do with the message here?”

“For those of you suggesting that the users who rightfully mentioned this should just “lighten up,” I ask–do you really want atheism reflecting such narrow-minded views about gender stereotypes, too? Atheism is supposed to be a part of the movement of intelligible REASON. It’s bad enough the religious are so willing to persecute women for being even remotely sexual and the LGBT community for merely existing. Also, if you disagree that subtle forms of sexism–even sexist humor–can be harmful to women, I suggest you read up on the stereotype threat literature.”

The comments for this post annoy the crap out of me. Yes, you all need to take a fucking chill pill, and that’s coming from a fellow feminist. It was one joke based on a play on words. Maybe if there was a national campaign dedicated to nearly naked skeptic girls without equally nearly naked skeptic dudes, then I’d see the objectification and problem with exploiting female sexuality for advertisement. But it’s not. The Richard Dawkins Foundation isn’t funding it; there’s no grassroots atheist boob effort. Maybe if we had been the “Atheist Class Campaign” the joke would be a booty for the “Atheist Ass Campaign.” “Atheist Dunk Campaign” would be “Atheist Junk Campaign” and we could all stare at some guy’s crotch. My point is, the person who made this image probably wasn’t going out of their way to objectify women – bust just sounded like bus, and the idea of atheist advertisements on bras is ludicrous and funny. I hardly see how a single joke is equivalent to PETA’s trashy campaigns or religious oppression of women and LGTB groups.

Are we not allowed to joke about anything sexual at all because of the fear of not being politically correct? My friends and I make jokes that uber-feminists would consider sexist, but you know what, it’s about context. We’re not making them because we think it’s true that women are dumb or emotional or whatever – we make them because we think it’s ridiculous that people actually do think that way. We’re mocking people’s intolerance. I don’t Feminist Avenger Punch my guy friends when they jokingly tell me to get in the kitchen and make them a sammich. Why? Because I know how to take a joke. If they were the type of males who actually believed that, I wouldn’t be friends with them.

This is why a lot of times I hate calling myself a feminist. I want equal pay, equal opportunities, etc, etc… Why don’t we worry about the big problems instead of flipping out over a joke about a bra? Yes, we should have concerns about the objectification of women in our culture – but when it’s something minor like that, I think we all need to calm the fuck down. I hate the fact that I’ve been told I’m not a “real feminist” because I’m not totally extreme. I had a friend once try to argue with me that shaving your legs was just conforming to the oppressive patriarchal rules, and if I disagreed with her I was just not educated enough to understand. No, I fucking like having smooth legs. It feels good. Even if it’s a symbol of the higher standards of beauty women face, I really don’t care. And that was an argument from someone who wears make up, and I don’t wear any. Should we start a jihad against lipstick because of what it symbolically represents, or try to tackle the bigger problem of women’s self image and social standards of beauty?

That being said, here’s a SMBC that I like to believe was released today especially for this post:
Now if you excuse me, I’m going to go prepare myself for the upcoming feminist flame war. *crawls in her barricade*