Feminist Underwear

Things Recent College Graduates Know That Nobody Else Does (For the Class of 2012)

[This is the speech I would have never given at my graduation.]

Graduation day isn’t really for the graduates. Everybody knows that. It’s for our parents and extended family members and occasionally our professors and advisors and mentors, but it’s not for us. 

Or at least, the advice isn’t.

Our keynote senior class speaker wasn’t trying to give the class of 2012 some parting words of wisdom when she stood on stage last week and talked to us about finding the “puzzle piece” that will complete our rainbow collage or some shit (it was hot, I’m paraphrasing) but she was probably trying to impress the president of our school.

The student council member who addressed us at graduation wasn’t trying to remind us that we’d always have “a home” at our alma matter. Nor do I think, exactly, that she was trying to reassure herself, so much as she was trying to get one last seal of approval from the faculty members and administrators who read her speech and decided, in a completely objective and non-biased fashion, that it beat out the more radical, less feel-good competitors, the ones written by senior class nobodies.

The advice isn’t for me because why the fuck should I listen to it?

Why should I listen to people who are much, much older than me about my future, which is happening right now and probably going to keep happening long after they retire to Florida? Their “future”, their post-graduate funk, was years and years ago, before linkdn and craiglist and I’m not being cynical when I say the rules have changed and so have the players.

And why should I listen to people my own age, people from my own graduating class, about my future? They don’t know any better than I do about where we’re going to end up and how we’re going to get there.

I definitely don’t need late twenty-somethings posting their bullshit laundry lists on Jezebel or Thought Catalogue, telling me I should stop telling everyone about the semester I studied abroad (we know, we don’t want to hear that shit either) or that the “real world” is different from college. We all know you’re just trying to make amends for the mistakes you made less than five years ago, or retroactively decide to go or not to go to graduate school after all. 

I’m sick of getting advice because nobody, and I mean nobody, is in the position to give it to me because the only people who know exactly where I’m standing right now have no more experience than I do.

We don’t need your advice world. No matter who you are. It’s probably useless to us.

In fact, what nobody seems to want to ask us is what we’ve learned, in our four years pursuing undergraduate liberal arts degrees. Because we haven’t learned shit, right? We’re the assholes who still think Marxism works, the shitheads who sleep till noon and haven’t had a real hard day’s work in our lives, the douchebags who don’t know what a 401k is or how we’re supposed to get one.

What advice could we possibly have to give, and who would possibly take it?

It is with these thoughts that I present to you a list of things recent college graduates know that nobody else seems to know, remember or care about.

• Mornings are far and away the worst part of any day, and it doesn’t matter how much you try and dress them up with bagel brunches or incentives for coming in to the office early. They suck and they’re always going to suck, and we’re going to complain about them because we are human beings and that’s what we do.
• Having a “healthy lifestyle” sucks ass. You know why college graduates eat cereal and ramen and pints of ice cream instead of five small, well-balanced servings of fresh organic farmer’s market produce? Because working out every day and eating well every day and having a balanced schedule every day is boring and stifling and miserable. That doesn’t mean you don’t try and work in a half-assed speed session on the treadmill or a salad to your chicken nuggets every once in a while. But it does mean that college students know that sometimes it’s not worth spending money you don’t have on gym memberships and locally grown tomatoes when Doritos and Law and Order SVU in bed are what we truly need, on a spiritual level, to refresh ourselves.
• Sex is weird and awkward and fun and shut up, you think about it just as much as  we do. College students probably don’t have that much more sex than any other demographic, we just get to talk about it more because it’s what we’re expected to do. But running into a one-night stand on Academic Row or hearing a roommate go at it at 2 AM gives the college student the unique privilege of being in the know about how sex works: it’s strange, it’s not particularly cute, it can really hurt people (hello, rape culture is all around us) and we don’t have to pretend we’re not obsessed with it. 
• The world is a terrible place with some redeeming qualities, not the other way around. I feel like this is a thing you forget when you’re not in college because it would depress you too much. People would stop having kids and stop perpetuating capitalism (college buzzword!) if they really thought about all the bullshit that makes this society objectively terrible. College students, or at least the liberal-artsy ones, get to think about this a lot. We can sit in lecture halls and wax poetic about the patriarchy and the kyriarchy and homophobia and racism and poverty and systems that oppress people every day. And yeah, it’s because we have the time and energy to, but you know what? Someone’s gotta fucking do it. Some people, even people who are living this shit, don’t think about it every day. Probably shouldn’t, if they can help it, at all. Because you can’t. Because it would make you sick and sad to remember where we’re at in this world, and you wouldn’t want to go on living if you really stopped to think about it. College students do think about it, because it’s why we’re in school (or should be why we’re in school, at least) but the only other people who think about it are people who are forced to. Recent college graduates have the power to change the conversation. But we probably won’t remember that in 10 years, ourselves.
• Not everyone is going to be surprised (or even make it a Thing) when you come out. Recent college graduates know that when they drunkenly told all their friends they were a lesbian on New Year’s Eve their freshman year, only about 1 percent showed any shock at all. Not even their parents batted an eyelash. And even if some people have different experiences or dimmer relatives,  odds are, you’re not going to get a chorus of “You don’t say!”s when you sit everyone down at eighteen, nineteen, thirty seven, sixty four. It might be the easiest thing or the hardest thing you’ve ever done, and it’s different for everyone. But in college you learn how predictable you are.
• And finally, recent college graduates know, probably better than anyone, that whatever it is, you’ve got to figure it out for yourself. Not because every individual is a unique and special snowflake or because there’s value in the journey or some shit, but because that’s the only way anybody ever learns. Not by taking advice, even if someone gives you damn good advice. By figuring it for ourselves. All of it. Even if all we’ve done so far is take the advice of parents or older friends or advisors or professors, as we stand here at the crossroads getting bombarded with advice, it finally hits us that advice is the last thing in the world anybody needs more of. 

I know, I know. You’re going to keep giving us advice. You’re never going to learn. To paraphrase Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Spike (you’ve got to have an endquote or nobody’s going to remember your speech): Finish your big group sing, get your kumbaya-yas out. You’ve got to remind yourselves that there’s a point to all this, too. We get it.

We get more thank you think, is what I’m trying to say. Take our word for it.

danadonna asked: I got a 100 on the paper. Citing you as Liz Lemon 2.0. :)

Anonymous asked: I'm trying to cite you in a critical paper and I'm going to have to put Liz Lemon 2.0. Are you ok with that? I will send you a copy of the paper later if you like.

I mean, I don’t feel comfortable putting my full name out there but if you want you can cite me as Chelsea C. Also I would love to see the paper, which you can submit here.

Where I Get My Material

A lot of comedians get asked a series of similar questions: “So what’s in your act?” “Can you put me in your act?” “Are you gonna put that in your act?”  All of them are equally heinous and the only appropriate response to any of them is, “Well, I generally just plan out your murder in excruciating detail.”

But by far the worst question you can ask a writer or comic is where they get their material.  This question is asinine because the answer should be obvious. The answer is a)you get it fucking anywhere and b)none of your business, that’s why I’m the comedian and you’re gainfully employed.

As much as I try to relay to friends, family members and strangers on airplanes the way in which my “material” enters my brain in the form of whatever and exits in the form of a polished (lol jk) joke, people still seem to be confused, because they still keep asking the same fucking questions.

I have therefore, for your own benefit, compiled some examples of how I might attain the highest quality material for my Art:

• I go to the store and on the way there some dude shouts at me “YOU SO TALL YOU SO BIG!” Instead of sinking to the floor in crippling shame and agony, I begin feverishly squinting at him and preparing to write it all down later so he can suck it and patriarchy can suck it.
• I get really drunk and cry to my friends about why no one will ever love me because I’m either hideous and a pariah or simply too beautiful for anyone (depending on the day), and when they understandably become sick of having this conversation I console myself by believing that any potential love interest will be crying bitter tears when I feature them heavily in my Material one day
• I do absolutely none of the work that is required of me to succeed as a human being in the world (laundry, job searching, college work, etc) and instead write really terrible fanfiction about Ron Weasley because I need to “practice” writing “funny” 
• When my grandmother asks me why I don’t have a boyfriend or the conservative jerk on the phone when I’m giving political surveys at work tells me that the gays are ruining America, I remember all of it in detail so that I can make strangers laugh at my pain
• I watch bros interact on the street with their sorority sister love interests and I create imaginary backstories and characters for them and everyone has weird voices and this satire is all very cutting edge and important for my Material
• When I ram my entire right leg into a food cart in the school cafeteria and stare at the yellowing bruise 8 days later, I work it into a pratfall-y scene that I will probably never sit down to write for a TV show that will never exist
• I say terrible things on a daily basis without thinking because I have no filter or perception of what is socially appropriate and then when people naturally become repelled by me I just remind myself that this is all going to make great Material

All in all, the golden rule of Where I Get My Material is this: It usually happens from a combination of living my live and staring at the computer for prolonged periods of sadness, so let’s not try and complicate a good thing.

mischiefmanagement asked: JUST SO YOU KNOW MY PARENTS KNOW SO YOU DON'T GOTTA WORRY ABOUT IT

Please Pass the Heteronormativity: A Lesbian’s Guide to Acting Straight Around Your Friends’ Ignorant Parents

By now, you’ve probably perfected the art of acting straight in front of certain groups: your elderly relatives who Can Never Know, your conservative coworkers, or that weird guy in your class who would probably ask if he could “watch.” It’s taken a few trial-and-error moments of accidentally revealing that your boyfriend’s name is Susan in front of a professor or two, but at this point, you’ve reached Cameron Diaz or Jennifer Aniston levels of straightness in public.

So naturally, when you’re around your friends, you look forward to the opportunity to let loose, talk about Olivia Benson, watch marathons of the L Word on mute, etc. Even if your friends are straight, they know that they better put up with your shit because they have no idea how good they’ve got it. You’ve finally struck the balance between your private and public self, not because you’re still in the closet but because you don’t want to get hate crimed while buying some milk and eggs.

And then, just as you pull in to your friends’ driveway, it hits you, like an avalanche of crushed dreams and broken promises: Ohmygod, Chrissy’s parents don’t know.

Sure, you could tell them and spend a fun 20 minutes of heightened awkwardness and discomfort with people you don’t particularly give enough of a shit about. Alternately, you could continue looking out for Number 1 and just grin and bear the weirdness as they grill you about how things are going in your life.

Here is a list of handy tips and tricks to remember so Mr. and Mrs. Jones don’t accidentally learn that that nice girl Chrissy hangs out with is, in fact, a gigantic lez:

• Be vague with your pronouns. If someone asks you whether you have a boyfriend, just say, “I am seeing someone, yes.” If they say, “Oh, what’s his name?” say, “Is that a new sweater, Mrs. Jones? It’s very pretty.”
• Talk about school a lot. Straight parents like to ask a lot of questions about how your classes are going, so let them. If you’re majoring in Feminist Literature with a minor in Queer Studies, though, maybe talk about your Communications requirement or something.
• Reminisce about you and Chrissy’s childhood, where nobody was gay because everyone was a child. If you didn’t know Chrissy as a child, talk about how you two met. Straight parents love stories like that. 
• Make friends with the family pet. If it’s a cat, though, make sure they know you are also a “dog person”, even if this is not true, because otherwise they might get a little suspicious.
• Engage in conversation with a younger sibling/family member, if there is one. Straight people like when you are good with children, and they also have a harder time believing you bat for the other team if Chrissy’s little brother Johnny really likes you, because lesbians are sexual predators who eat children for breakfast.
• YOUR FAVORITE FOOD IS NOT SUSHI. Even if it is. Even if you are eating sushi for dinner with Chrissy’s parents. Your favorite food is salad.
• If you were stupid enough to wear a flannel shirt, don’t panic. Generally speaking this might be a sign of queerness, but at this moment in time hipsters have ruined queerness for everyone, so you’re probably off the hook. Just make sure to bring up David Foster Wallace or your favorite band that Chrissy’s parents will not have heard of to complete the illusion.
• If you play sports such as softball, you don’t. Instead, you enjoy “going to the gym” or “working out”, something that straight girls do a lot of, especially in groups.
• Your favorite singer is Taylor Swift. Straight parents love Taylor Swift because she is wholesome and extremely heterosexual.
• Take a deep breath and begin memorizing key phrases like, “I’m not really into politics” or “I don’t know who Ellen DeGeneres is.” Acting straight is easy once you get the hang of it!

How I’d Hypothetically Propose to Ellen Page in a Hypothetical Situation that in No Way Mirrors Real Life

Ellen Page and I have been dating for a few years now.*

At this point, we live together** in a cozy loft apartment with solar panels in Toronto or New York or perhaps L.A. if I can be persuaded to allow direct sunlight to hit my body. True love conquers all. 

Let’s say I’m 26. That would make Ellen Page 29 or 30***, depending on the time of year. It’s a good time for us both to get married because I’ve always leaned towards being married young, but Ellen Page is currently 25 and her career is taking off, so she could probably use a few more years of independence before she meets me, the love of her life.

Ellen Page and I have been discussing marriage for about six months and while we both understand the cons of being tied to a heteronormative system of capitalist values, we can’t think of a better way for our friends and family to celebrate our love, so we’re on board with getting married but are not officially engaged, as of yet.

Ellen Page is a morning person**** whereas I am more or less nocturnal, being a famous and successful stand-up comedian who runs in circles with Steve Agee and Sarah Silverman and Tig Notaro, my very best comedian friends in this scenario. So generally speaking, Ellen Page is the one who makes the coffee in the morning because she gets up at a normal hour whereas I like to avoid the moments where the sun is strongest in the sky. Also she probably has to go film movies early in the morning, right? Right.

Anyway, Ellen Page usually wakes up and takes care of the coffee situation first but on this particular morning, I sneak out of bed very early with stealth and grace and don’t even trip over anything or make any noise at all (which is how you know true love has literally altered my body chemistry) so she’s still sleeping angelically***** whilst I tiptoe merrily into the kitchen.

Ellen Page isn’t particularly into jewelry or anything but she knows that I am, in a big, way, and that I want an engagement ring but only if my fiancee wears one too because feminism, so she’s talked about the kind of engagement ring she would want to wear, were she going to wear one.******

It is a fair trade, conflict free ethical ring (maybe it doesn’t even have diamonds, maybe it’s just like a cute emerald ring or something? hit me up ellen) that I place jauntily next to the coffee maker, which I know she will be standing in front of in about an hour, with like a cute note. Nothing fancy, maybe it just says, like “Wanna get married?” or something. But cute. It’s very cute. 

Then I sneak back into bed and wait for Ellen Page to find the fair trade ethical ring and then she wakes up and she’s so happy and excited and she cries and then everyone cries and we live happily ever I’m thinking late October but as long as it’s not a beach wedding I’ll compromise probably no kids but I’m open to the suggestion as long as they don’t come out of my body and listen I’m not really a dog person but Ellen Page’s dog and I will probably get along fine as long as her dog also likes social justice and eating food.

————————————-

Footnotes:

*Not strictly true, in that we haven’t met, but I’m sure she has a wonderful sense of humor.

**Nope.

***This is true, because her birthday is on Wikipedia.

****Maybe?

*****This is my imaginary scenario so Ellen Page will sleep angelically if I want her to. Get off my dick guys.

******Also false.

Just One of the Guyz

Elizabeth Banks and I are in a fight.

See, I like Elizabeth Banks. More than that, I want to like her. She’s made a name for herself mostly in comedy and we all know how much I like pretty blonde ladies who do well in comedy.

However, her recent Women’s Health interview left me feeling deeply saddened, and it wasn’t just because she tried to insinuate eating bananas was as delicious and easy as eating candy. (I call bullshit, hungry actresses.)

She also said,

“I can hang with the dudes because I love beef and baseball and driving fast and flirting. I understand where men are coming from and I’m interested in typically male endeavors. But I can also wear the short skirt and cheerlead.” -source

In short, she revealed herself to be:

Really, Elizabeth Banks, really?

You enjoy watching sports games and eating food?

Since you seem to be confused, here are a few examples of things most human beings enjoy:

• Pizza/wings
• Beer
• Playing Video Games
• Watching Television
• Wearing sweatpants

Here are a few examples of things our society seems to think that only men enjoy:

• [See above list.]

Furthermore, let’s talk about what it means when you insinuate (or declare openly) that you are “just one of the guys” (besides the obvious insinuation that you are a supreme asshole.)

It means that you think you’re better than other women.

See, according to these nerds, most girls don’t eat food or drink beer. Most girls don’t watch spots or play sports or video games or sit on the couch yelling at the TV.

And let me tell you, as a professional lesbian who also hangs out with a lot of straight ladies, I have not met one woman who doesn’t at least marginally enjoy most of these things.

What makes you so insecure that you have to cut down other women and “feminine” activities like shopping or whatever, to make you feel good about yourself? Oh wait, it’s society.

But I’m sick of that shit. I’m sick of women who put down other women, directly or indirectly, by calling themselves one of the bros or one of the guys or one of the dicks.

Because guess what? If some dudebro is impressed by the fact that you enjoy eating food and watching TV enough to act like no other woman on the planet likes it, he’s a douchecanoe. And you shouldn’t want to be friends with him anyway.

And guess what else? When you say shit like, “I can still put on the short skirt and cheerlead” you’re basically affirming the fact that most men, especially the kinds of men you’re trying to make nicey nice with, will sexualize you anyway. They’ll objectify you. They won’t support you when you tear down other women, and if you spend time tearing down other women then women won’t support you either, and you will end up very sad and alone. You’re not one of the guys. You don’t want to be one of the guys. And the fact that being a woman is something you’re ashamed of says more about you than it does about All Those Other Girls (TM.)

Expectation:

Reality:

The girl in the bottom picture isn’t getting a lot of cool new man friends to chill out with. She’s getting hit on by skeevy weirdos who don’t respect her and probably don’t want her at their football watching party unless she’s going to be dancing topless (because they’re assholes, surprise!), and she just wasted a whole bunch of energy putting down all of womankind to do it.

So ladies, let’s make a pact to stop calling ourselves one of the guys because we think we’re being cute. Let’s instead call ourselves women who like shit that lots of other people like and if guys want to chill out with us and do that shit do, then that’s awesome. If not, it’s their loss.

10 Fun Valentine’s Day Activities to do with your Significant Other

1. Be spontaneous! Go to the DMV together and wait in line. Spend a whole day there!
2. Consider a romantic arts and crafts activity, like constructing homemade anal beads or building a spaceship made out of yarn.
3. Try something new in the bedroom. For example, scream “YOUR MOTHER NEVER LOVED YOU!” at the height of climax for a fun surprise.
4. Order for each other in a restaurant. If your significant other is allergic to something, make sure you get it for them to demonstrate that your love can overcome any obstacle.
5. Go on what starts out as a romantic hike and turns into hours of being lost and frightened and cold and alone in the woods. Laughingly bet each other who’s going to break into hysterics first! A sense of humor is the most important thing in any relationship.
6. Plan a large brunch with your entire extended family, and make sure to discuss important topics like politics and religion. Getting to know each others’ families can bring you closer.
7. Have a vegan salon day! Instead of wasting time and precious Earth energy, give each other the royal treatment in the comfort of your own home! Use teabags and old avocados from the compost heap to give each other relaxing facials. Make your own nail polish using fruit juices and period blood. 
8. Have lots of other friends in relationships? That calls for a group outing. Get the gang together for something everyone will enjoy, like highly competitive drag racing or a World of Warcraft tournament!
9. If you’re creative types, compose each other epic poems! The catch: you have to memorize the whole thing and then dictate them to each other, a la John Milton. Nothing under 5,000 words! ;-)
10. Spend the day communicating using only eye contact. This means no words-spoken, written, or signed/pantomimed! You’ll have a fun day figuring out new ways to say, “I love you.”

Titles For Potential Love Songs I Would Write If I Did That

• “Thank You for Understanding How Important the NBC Thursday Night Comedy Lineup is to My Well Being”
• “Let’s Eat A Lot of Birthday Cake and Then Potentially Have Sex But Only If I’m Not Too Full”
• “I’d Love to Sit At Starbucks With You For a Few Hours and People Watch”
• “Tell Me I’m Funny Or I Will Throw Myself Out of This Window”
• “You are Definitely At Least Marginally Attractive”
• “I Would Break Up with You For Ellen Page But I Still Love You”
• “If You Call Me Babe or Baby or Honey or Lover or Lovekins I Will Actually Murder you in Cold Blood”
• “I Have a Lot of Anxiety About Whether You’ll Get Along with My Family”
• “I Knew I Loved You When My Best Friend Said She Thought You Were Great”
• “I Want to Make Out With You in Public But Only When I’m sure The Area Is Gay Friendly Enough for Us Not To Get Hate Crimed”
• “Let’s Get Stoned and Watch The Daily Show”
• “Our Wedding Will be Harry Potter Themed And Hopefully Legal By the Time We’re Ready to Get Married”
• “Let’s Talk Passionately for Several Hours About Our Favorite Fandoms”
• “You and Me are My New OTP”
• “Thank You For Not Commenting on My Lady Mustache”
• “You are Not Like a Virgin So Thank God for Small Miracles”
• “No You Cannot Read My Old Fanfiction, Sweetheart, but Nice Try”
• “I Would Still Be Attracted to You If You Shaved Your Head Because I Don’t Adhere To Patriarchal Beauty Standards”
• “I Borrowed Your Eyeliner and You’re Not Getting it Back”
• “The Last Time I Resorted to Stress Eating Was Before I Met You So I Guess That’s a Good Sign”