My New York Trip: Set in Motion

I haven't posted anything on social media about this, but I felt like this would be a good space to put the story to words.
Whoever has read these last two posts probably thinks I'm insane because I'm pretty much just writing about my love for CATS. Oh well.

I found out CATS was back on Broadway when scrolling through Instagram's exploring page. My heart raced, because I had this opportunity to go and see it live and on Broadway. But, my stomach also sank, because how would I ever get to New York? I started following the instagram page for the Broadway production, but skipped over the posts as quickly as possible, because my heart and head kept pulling me in opposite ways.

I got close to going when my best friend, Sarah, and I planned a trip to Maine. I figured I could possibly take a train down to New York and see the show one evening, probably by myself. The Maine trip was postponed and the plan fell through. Then, I started babysitting and the parents invited me to go to New York with them, and even get me a ticket for a matinee show to see CATS as part of my payment. They ended up going to Miami instead, and I was unable to go with them. By this time the production had announced it was in it's final few months.

I was aching to get up to New York. Dying to be there. In early December my request for a weekend off had been denied, I work in retail and it was the height of the Christmas season. The weekend off was supposed to be so I could go to Gatlinburg with my boyfriend and his fraternity, so I was upset, but not too upset. Then, my manger realized the mistake and found someone to switch with me, so I could have Saturday and Sunday off to go on the trip. Of course, by this time my spot wasn't available on the trip, so I was to stay home.

So, here I was with a weekend off and nowhere to go. I would spend a lot of time online looking up same day flights to New York, AirBNB's, train rides into New York from Philadelphia, and any other option I had to get to New York. It'd take a huge hit to my bank account, and I had no travel companion. Then, I had an idea. I sent this string of texts to my Mom:

Note: The Pennsylvanians are what we call my Dad's step-sisters who live in Pennsylvania. Also I say "many dreams" because I also really wanna ride on a train.

Mom was all in after that. I sent her the details that I had a vague idea of.

Not the most solid itinerary. But, this was just a few days before we would have to leave for the performance. I'd never done a spontaneous trip like this, but I was excited to be a part of it. I told my boyfriend with a lot of glee, and a lot of fear. He was skeptical, thinking we couldn't make it happen, as he is always trying to be realistic and practical. It's wonderful, except when your dream is at stake here. 

Then, Mom sent this to me. 

I saw it after I'd done a very energetic work out, high on the adrenaline of this opportunity I had to seize. It crushed me. 

I cried on the drive home, angry at everyone who doubted this. Angry at the fact that she was right, and at the fact that I hadn't planned this trip to occur over the summer or for an actual vacation. I let the text sit when I got home, taking a shower and trying not to think about being a nine year old who had printed out images of her favorite cat hanging on her wall, and above those images the words, "STARRING ON BROADWAY: PAIGE MCWILLIAMS" hung proudly. (I always remember how to spell starring because I'd misspelled it "staring" and my cousin corrected me)

Of course, Mom isn't one to let it go either. 

 

She also knew I needed to be conscious of my car tags. Such a kind woman.

I'd told my sister's, whom I live with, about the trip. They're older than me, and were both much cooler than me in high school. They went on spontaneous trips, they might not have been glamorous, but I'm always so jealous that they have these memories to share and my college career has been safely at home, quiet and mostly alone. Graciously they offered to give me my Christmas gift in advance: 100$ visa gift card to help me get to New York. They even said they don't need Christmas gift's so I could save some money. Of course, I already had their Christmas presents, but that's besides the point. The action made me want to cry, I had so much support coming from these women, it was almost overwhelming.

The next day I called into work, and spoke to a scheduling manager. This is the same woman who got me the weekend off, and now I was looking for her skill in getting someone to swap with me either Monday or Friday. I wanted to keep hours, so I preferred a swap and not for someone to pick up my shift. She seemed somewhat confused when I explained this when she said someone had accepted my Friday shift. But, she was determined to help me get to New York. She got this sweet woman, Megg, to take my Monday shift if I took her Saturday (the Saturday before Christmas) shift. I was beyond thankful to both of them. Now, I had a full three days to do this rush trip to New York.

 Finally, things were coming together. I had links to hotels and AirBNB's, I knew the cost of the train from Philadelphia to New York, and I was ready to start looking at tickets. On Thursday I went to school, expecting my Mom and I to work out the details that night. But, I got this text from her:

We were all set! She had gone to AAA (I am very confused about this place now, I thought they were just road side assistance), and had a package put together and made for our travels. We had plane tickets, a hotel room, and now all was missing was our tickets to the show. This was my job. 

Surprisingly, the 8PM show was cheaper than the 2PM show on Sunday, but Mom insisted we go to the show during the day as she was weary of New York. She wasn't sure what travel would be like in New York, if we'd walk or ride back to the hotel, so we decided to do the 2PM show, which she paid for since the tickets costed a lot more than I'd anticipated. After I bought the tickets I went downstairs where my sister and her friend were preparing baskets for a raffle they were hosting. I was so excited, and so afraid, and I didn't know how to express myself. So I sat quietly on her bed, watching them work out the details of their fundraiser. I was slowly letting reality sink in. I was leaving for New York Saturday morning, I was seeing CATS Sunday afternoon. I was seeing CATS. On Broadway. Getting as close as I ever would to achieving my childhood dream. I turned to every cat I saw for two days and said, "I'm going to see you on Broadway." Very few cared about this, but I laughed every time. 

Friday was spent in anticipation. Trying to get homework done for the weekend, going to work and thinking about all the possibilities of this trip, and then figuring out where I could buy some good skin colored tights for the performance.

This was just the beginning of our whirlwind trip. 

My career goals, paired with my affinity for CATS the musical

Hi, my name is Paige (like a book), and when I was a kid I wanted to be a Broadway star, now I want to be an editor and a writer. Now, let me explain how this relates to my deep, deep love for a little musical (that's probably really lame to love this much) called CATS.

It all started when I was small and shy going to visit my Dad's parents. When ever we went over to Grandpa and Grandma Jean's house there were several options for entertainment.
1. The small gazebo and pond, where one could sing Mulan's songs.
2. A decorative wishing well, where one could sing Snow White's song.
3. Pretend playing the organ (I was very talented at this).
4. Looking at Grandma Jean's collection of the trinkets she'd gathered from all across the world. Elephants and fine dolls, everything glittered and highly revered in their glass display cases.
5. Watching CATS on VHS.

Grandma Jean is my step grandmother, and she is so fancy and cultured. She's traveled the world, she wears fur coats, and she has seen several Broadway productions. I don't really remember watching it all that much at her house, because I eventually figured out I could borrow it from her from time to time. When that happened I watched it at least once a day, singing and dancing along. One time I remember her handing it over to me and saying, "Now remember, you have to bring this back." Which surprised me, because obviously I always brought it back, otherwise I wouldn't be borrowing it again. But, then again, I borrowed that shit for a long time. Half because we didn't go over as often as we did to my other grandma's, but also because that VHS was like crack to me.

My entire family knows about CATS, because I'd watched it so much. I even picked out what cat I wanted to be. At first, I wanted to be Victoria, obviously. She's the pure white cat who gets a ballet solo. Then I wanted to be Cassandra, because she had small singing solos and danced just as much as Victoria. Finally, I landed on Jemimia (Sillabub in American productions). She had longer solos, and was also a strong dancer. By nine years old, just a year into my first dance lessons, I had my entire career planned out. But, that plan didn't work out.

I danced at a small studio in my hometown, and I'm so fond of my memories there, but it wasn't as major of a school that one who aimed to have her name in flashing lights all across New York City needed to be in. As I continued into middle school I still held on to this dream, and all of my friends knew about it. I eventually joined a performance troupe in Oldham County that gave me singing and acting background, but by then I was slowly giving up on my dream. I still really, really wanted to dance. But I was beginning to understand that I wasn't the best in my classes, and I wasn't really excelling. I also became really fond of ballet, and it became my focus by the time high school hit. I quit that briefly, trying to re-center myself in jazz and tap. It was a horrible idea, so I went back to ballet, figuring I could be a part of New York City ballet.

This was when I began to write.

When I entered high school I'd just spent the summer taking endless ballet classes at UofL's Dance Academy, and I'd gotten my first laptop. I would stay up late writing these stories that I had made up to put myself to sleep. These stories used to be based on Disney characters and movies, or books I'd read. Then, they turned into me, a girl from Kentucky confidently living in New York, dancing her heart out with a company, falling in love with a lawyer, but waiting until marriage, and she also had great abs. These stories were horrible, but they came from CATS.

I used to make up these stories because I was obsessed with dreams. CATS made me hyper aware of the word "memory," and of the moon in the night sky, and I was a little kid chasing her dreams of getting up on stage dressed in a leotard and wig. And my character always went to New York, because that's where I wanted to be. That's where the Broadway is, so that's where I needed to be. Even if I wasn't on Broadway I just had to be there. Now, as I look for jobs in the publishing world I'm turning back to New York, though the dancing dream has died.

I just went to New York this December. I had a couple of days off one weekend and asked my Mom on a Monday if she wanted to go on this adventure. She was all in. That Friday we were on a plane for New York with tickets to CATS in our pocket. I was afraid, I'd never been to New York, and I knew there was a chance I'd be moving there to follow a career, but I was still so scared of New York. I knew it wouldn't be like my stories, it'd be much harsher and colder. But by the time we left the next Monday I was staring longingly out the plane window at the New York skyline. I wanted to be back there.

Part of that is definitley because CATS was still there. We saw the show during a Sunday matinee, and I cried the entire way through. Etcetera (her real character name, I just figured it out this year and every time I'm like, Eliot and Weber, you nerds) ran down the aisle with glowing eyes as the overture played, and I couldn't hold it in. My Mom leaned over to ask if I was alright, and I said, "Yes. I just started crying." She gave me a tissue and I gripped it the entire show as I sobbed on and off. My heart raced the entire show, and for an hour after the show, because as we watched my shoulders heaved to the music. This was the closest I'd ever get to being in CATS. The closest I got to singing Sillabub's solos was mouthing along with Jessica Cohen. The closest I got to wearing the unitard was Samantha Sturm, who played Demeter, touched my hand as I tried to smile at her through the tears as "The Addressing of Cats" was sang on stage. The show was so amazing.

So, I went to the box office and bought tickets for the evening performance. I cried again, and made intense eye contact with Tantomile, but that's besides the point. CATS steered me back to New York, because I found such joy in that performance I have found joy in the city, and want to return to explore the rest of it, and find my confidence walking the streets, just as my character did in the stories I wrote.

Now, as I mentioned before I had goals of being Jemimia. Physically, Veerle Castelyn, was petite, but she had big eyes that were only made to appear bigger with her stage make up. So, I was already short (in fact I still match the casting call description of Sillabub: under 5'4, youthful apperance), and my eyes were big... but I always wanted them to be bigger. I'd spend time in the mirror lifting my lids as high as they'd go, stretching my eyeballs, willing them to grow. Jem also spent a significant amount of time looking and sining at the moon, so I did that too.

I was mystified by the full moon, staring at it during early car rides to school, and late car rides home from Memaw's house. When I couldn't sleep, I'd go to the window and look at the moon, thinking about dreaming and memories. I'd try and make my eyes as big as the moon, just like a curious kitten. At this point I find it interesting to point out that I am not a night person. Well, I'm more of a night person than a morning person, I hate mornings sometimes, but I don't stay up late. When I was real little I used to be knocked out by no later than 9:30pm. As the seventh child of my family, I'm sure my parents were extremely pleased about this phenomenon. Also, I was always a dog person. My sister was the cat person, so I was the dog person. My mind worked in opposites a lot when it came to my sister, I don't know it's weird. But anyways, despite these facts I was in love with the moon and the stars, so much so that one night when I didn't sleep until literally the next morning I was thrilled. I wasn't angry that I tossed and turned, I was elated to be up with the moon. I'd lazily walk to my window, open the sheer curtains like a rich woman in a 1950s film, and look up to the sky.

That night I also did one of the most extinsive story planning dream sessions based on a book I'd read for Book Bee. I valued myself on not only my dancing and singing, but my creativity and imagination. But, it was because I was going to be a part of a creative field while performing on Broadway (HUGE emphasis on Broadway, younger me was already a diva who would accept nothing less than Broadway!!).

So, this all added up. I spent a lot of time not only being a natural introvert, but one who was similar to a cat. Quiet, but playful. Aloof, but very kind. Occasionally graceful, but typically clumsy. My eyes were already big, as I said above, and I became a daydreaming, book worm. I miss high school a lot because I daydreamed constantly about the stories I was working on, about CATS, about my future as a dancer, and still got A's. Now I have serious participation points to rack up in college classes, and customers to attend to at work. But, I still love to visit the usually empty second floor of the library, or walk through the corner sections of work, taking in a few moments to be pensive. Now, what does all this fester to become? Do strangers and friends alike stop and tell me I remind them of a cat? Or even specifically my dream role from the musical? No. There's another person I've recently been compared to a lot.

I would now like to propose a poll:

Do I have a Luna Lovegood "Vibe"
1. YES! OMG I'VE BEEN RACKING MY BRAIN FOREVER! YOU JUST HAVE HER AIR, YOUR HAIR IS SIMILIAR, YOU EVEN SOUND LIKE HER. (All things people have said to me)
2. No... it's something else. Maybe like a person dressed up as a cat singing and dancing to unpopular, but super iconic, showtunes.
3. Who is Luna Lovegood?

 

(I also really love Parks and Recreation a ridiculous amount. But it's honestly nothing compared to my passion for CATS. Trust me. But I keep CATS very private, despite this long post. Parks and Rec is still cool. CATS is v dorky and it took me up until 10th grade to figure that out. But I could watch that shit all day. All day.)

ANYWAYS! My true love and dedication to CATS morphed itself into a literary reference. How ironic! It's as if my name, Paige, wasn't destiny enough, apparently I had to assume the characteristics of a cat character to become a character within my new career path.

I figure a lot of stuff out while watching CATS live on Broadway and crying. I looked up at the Jellicle moon, and realized this show was why I was so in love with the moon all those years ago. The show is why I'm drawn to New York and wrote stories with the setting. It had my butt in dance classes for ten years, loving every second, even the ones I knew my childhood dream was dead. I also realized that Skimbleshanks, the railway cat, doesn't ask train passengers if they want their tea "With a straw" but rather, "Weak or strong." 

But most importantly I realized I had a full book of poetry memorized. I still get chills when in a poetry class and a TS Eliot poem is referenced. It always contains lines from "Memory" and makes me want to watch the show again. It makes my heart happy to see those lines and hear them read by other students who might not understand the show, but it's now in their lives too. As I watched the performers give their all on stage I cried, and realized how beautiful it was that the entire time I'd been focusing on the dancing and the singing, I was absorbing a key part of my future career.

I'm currently at Spalding University, working on getting my BFA in Creative Writing, and it's all because when I was a kid I watched a musical that was just a full book of poetry brought to life. Now, I own several TS Eliot books, and enjoy reading his work. And yeah, every now and again I like to indulge in my old dream of bringing that poetry to life through song and dance. 

Thank you CATS, for not only being as amazing as I think you are, but for helping me to chase my dreams. I will always be fond of the memories we share, and for the person you've helped me become. 

I will love you, Now and Forever.

(P.S. Please come back to Broadway soon! 16 years was too long! Let's say a short two?)

The College Mentality

Our head's are
Full of hopes and dreams
Yet we are tearing at the seams.

The meaning of Planned Parenthood

Today, I went to this really great bar and restaurant called "Garage Bar." It's located here in Louisville, and it's kind of a hip joint all the kids go to, and it has very millennial food items. Anyways, I went there because today is the day after the Women's March, and all purchases benefit Planned Parenthood of Indiana and Kentucky. I had to go out and show my support, even if it was just getting an order of beignets to go. (Listen, I wanted to go and get drunk off of basil and lavender drinks, but my parent's are coming over for my birthday dinner so I didn't). So, after circling the block twice looking for a big enough street parking spot to pull into and then giving up and parking in a paid public parking lot which I did not pay for I went to get my beignets.

The first thing I noticed was a family leaving the joint. It was a Mom, a Dad, and two kids under the age of four. They were enjoying time together, Mommy and oldest son running on the sidewalk, Dad behind them joking about how Mommy was wearing the perfect running shoes (she was in a maxi dress with nice flats on). I went inside, and low and behold in the midst of this lunch rush was not just single women wanting to support Planned Parenthood, but families. A lot of families.

Here's why I think this is important: Planned Parenthood isn't just serving a bunch of butch women, or stereotypical sorority girls who are labeled "sluts." The purpose of the institution isn't to just provide abortions in a way to plan parenthood, it's a place to go for all different types of reasons. It's to help men and women when dealing with reproduction. It's also there for people who need STD or HIV testing. It's goal is to help women and men understand birth control, and provide contraception so they don't have to give abortions. You see? It's not just a baby killing factory, it's a baby planning factory.

The problem with people who want to squash PP also want to teach kids abstinence only. Well, this is bullshit. Yes, obviously it's the best method, but there are other methods that are just like .1% less effective. So, if you don't want people to have abortions, then you should at least teach them how to prevent pregnancy. It's extremely uncommon for people to wait until marriage to have sex, even in schools that teach abstinence only. At Catholic schools students actually wait and anticipate who will be the pregnant girl this year, despite the school's teachings. So, if you don't want abortions, tell kids to wrap it before you tap it, or to get a baby zapper whether pill, insert, or implant. We have to be smart about this, guys.

I stand with Planned Parenthood, and I never want to see it go away. I hope it continues to help people plan when they want to be parents, and to help them through the process. I want them to always be available to provide support and education to those who couldn't find it in school or at home. This is why, today, I eat beignets.

Revival and Renovations

The other day while working at Barnes and Noble I was stared down by a rack of cards for graduation. They all had motivating words about graduating, heading down the road to success, and encouraged following your dreams. Now, as a senior in college this has officially become one of my biggest fears. Because, not only am I a senior, but I am a senior in the school of creative writing, which isn’t exactly a common degree with a set career path. So, yeah. In a year not only will I have to start adulating (hardcore), but I will also have to put some serious work in towards my dreams and goals. Work I should’ve been putting in these past three years (if not more). But I haven’t. So here we are.

                I started this blog my senior year of high school and have since let it go. But, I’d like to revive it. It started as a feminism blog, but I think I’d like to get more creative with my posting. I am not sure what I will write, maybe some book reviews, maybe just my thoughts about people's graphic t-shirt choices, maybe a poem about my Memaw. I don't know yet, but I know I just need to write. And I need to get my writing out into the world, and this blog is the best way to do so. Now, as most of you know since you follow me on social media, I do not post a lot. I am very shy and quiet, but that shit ain’t gonna fly in the real world. It’s time to put on my big girl pants and not be afraid of posting opinions, weird thoughts, and my creative writing. Woo! Terrifying.

                So, here it goes. As I like to say to my sister’s dog when I have to pull him out from under the couch to take him on a walk, “It’s fine. Everything is fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. It's fine.”  

Rousseau AKA The Enemy

     So this week in my history class we read a couple articles by this guy named Jean-Joque Rousseau. And basically he wrote an article titled "The Social Contract" which was about the human race being selfish creatures and needing to work as a whole, or what he called "The General Will," in order to survive. So, in order for this to happen everyone has to give up their individuality and all their material items and express the same thoughts and feelings.
     Great guy already!
      Next we read his article, Women: "Especially Constituted to Please Man." And that's when I lost it. When I first read the article on my own I took notes on it, here is a snippet of what my notes looked like:
     Article says: "Women should know their place."
     My Notes say: "*NO ONE LIKES YOU ROUSSEAU!"
     Article says: [Talking about the perfect couple] "One must be active and strong, the other passive and weak. One must have power and will, the other have little power of resistance."
     My Notes say: "1. I hate you.
                                 *I'm not writing any of your horrible beliefs down."
     Article says: "... this is not the law of love, but it is the law of Nature, which is anterior even to love...."
      My Notes say: "2.I'd like to throw you into nature.
                                 *And when I say nature, I mean wolves.
                                       -And bears."
      Other comments included, "When does Rebbecca Walker, Alice Paul and Tina Fey come in?" "Where is your grave, I'm going to attack it with my feminism!" Then I attempted to draw the Feminist symbol next to #FEMINISM at the bottom of my paper. Because this is how I take college notes.
     But, as I promised I'm going to talk about positive things. So, I'm going to list the terrible things that Rousseau says and then comment on how women have defied him and his mid-1700s beliefs on women.
      Rousseau said the "perfect couple" should be as different in personality as they are in anatomy. I say no! Women and men can be as alike as they want. Just because one guy is a doctor doesn't mean he should find a woman who is a maid. He and she can be with whoever they please! Today there is no rule on who you have to marry. As I've mentioned before, I love the movie and book Pride and Prejudice, and one of the lines Mr. Darcy has this wonderful quote when he is talking to Lizzy and confessing his love, "I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. " Because back in the day class was a big deal. Today it's more like a beautiful love story when the rich boy falls in love with the lower class girl. But in Jane Austen and Rousseau's time it was kind of important to marry someone of your own class. WE HAVE MOVED BEYOND THAT! Aren't you guys as happy as I am about this? Like, there are few restrictions. Just as long as you love each other you can be together (well, mostly). And Rousseau would be so angry if he saw a woman who was "above" her husband.
      That's another thing he was against. He thought women, as stated above, should be "passive and weak." He also talks about how women shouldn't be educated the same as man. He thought they should study "practical" subjects, like house work so to help the men continue with their work. Because everyone, as stated in his social contract, is working towards the same end-- but not in the same way. Well, sir, let me tell you a story. Later on in American History this strong woman named Elizabeth Blackwell went to medical school, the first woman to do so in the USA. And all of her professors were like, "She won't make it." But then she graduated first in her class! Rousseau would've DIED! In his personal opinion women should not inquire, they shouldn't explore and learn. Even though it was the Era of Enlightenment and it was all about learning and sharing ideas.
     Basically he said smart women were embarrassing. They should be left single and alone because no man should marry a smart woman. (I just shook my head in shame after writing that sentence, because it deserves a hardcore head shake and glare.) However, today we have overcome that obstacle! We can be as smart as we please, and even though women are sometimes looked down on as gross and ugly when they are associated with math and science and even computer studies, it's still better than what it used to be. We should encourage girls to get involved with these topics. Of course they're not for everyone, but just because we are women does not mean we cannot excel and pursue these fields of study. That's what Rousseau wouldn't want, and since he is the enemy, we should probably defy him as much as possible. Just saying.
      One of the topics Rousseau thought women should study was their man. Or as we said in class, "Know your dude!" They shouldn't think deeply on ALL men in general, but just the one's in their lives. You know, the one's they are "especially constituted to please." His thought was that they should always work towards benefiting the men and their lives, but how false is that! As a human race we should work towards pleasing others. I'm not saying let people walk over you, but don't just please man because you are a woman. Please who needs to be pleased, make the world happy by being happy yourself and helping others be happy. So many repeated words in that sentence and guess what-- I'M GONNA LEAVE IT BECAUSE IT'S MY BLOG! 
     And finally, Rousseau is quoted saying, "Woman is worth more as a woman, but less as a man..." Just take a moment to let that sink in. Okay. Are you done? Oh, another moment. Please, take your time.
     Better? Okay. Let's continue.
     In other words he's saying women shouldn't try to do man things, they should do womanly things because that's where they're most helpful. Um, no. Today, in this gloriously advanced day in age for Women's rights, women can be whatever they want! Pursue whatever field that want. Like I said before, there's still some struggle with fields being gender labeled. But it doesn't hold some people back. And I like those people. If you feel confident and passionate about it, GO FOR IT! I'm sure you'll be great at whatever you choose to do.
      Ugh, Rousseau you made me go on a feminist rage and that's okay. Because after reading you I went to my work study in the school of social work and all the feminism decorations I saw a people's office doors and on the walls made me happy. We are beyond this horrid man and moving forwards towards a brighter future. There is still work to do, but isn't it nice to look back and see how far we've come? It's comforting. And inspiring to continue to work towards equality.

#FEMINISM

#NotAFailedDrawingOnMyNotes

A Mostly Untitled Post About Rape, by Katie Watkins

     So today I'm not going to be writing the post, but my good friend Katie Watkins is. We've been friends for five years now and she is one of the most smart and inspiring people I know. Now, she has some great words of wisdom she wants to share with the world and I'm glad I could help her out.
So, I'll step back and let her talk now.

 

 

Let me start this off by saying that I don't want to call anyone out in this post. I try my best to understand that not everyone has dealt with a friend revealing their sexual assault to them, and therefore may not know how to respond properly. However I do want to get this out there to help friends of victims know how to help, and also to vent about some past experiences.

Last year, I was sexually assaulted by someone I had called my friend for a very long time. As much as that hurt, and believe me it hurt a lot, the responses I got were more painful. Many of my friends were supportive, particularly the ones who knew my attacker. That was a huge help. People that didn't know me as well, on the other hand, made some fairly hurtful comments. After I made an offhand comment about not wanting to die a virgin, I was told that I couldn't die a virgin because I had been sexually assaulted. Thank God for that- now I can be sure that I have experienced the joy of sex! I wasn't trying to comment on my physical state, anyway. That's really nobody's business but mine. I was making a point that if my friend didn't get his brakes fixed I could die without knowing the joys of consensual sex with someone I loved.

Other comments came from news media. The media portrayed the Steubenville rapists as the victims, partially influencing my decision not to report my attacker to the police. By doing so, I would be ridiculed for ruining his college scholarship and future in the Armed Forces. He would be the victim, and I would be the aggressor. Also, there would be a 3% chance of a conviction and a 97% chance of me delaying my college education to testify in a trial that would end in acquittal. I felt my reasoning was fairly solid, and my brother (a police officer) agreed. Others haven't been so sure. My fear of prosecuting him was interpreted by many as uncertainty over what happened- or worse, that I was falsely accusing him. I assure you, neither of those are reasons he is not currently in jail. Do I question my decision every day? Absolutely. I feel selfish for protecting myself and not the other women he will be around. I feel guilty for letting him get away. But every time I make the pros and cons list, I decide again not to prosecute. And I don't need the judgment from people who have never been through this. If a police officer has validated my fears about prosecuting, you really don't have much to add. No offense.

Some comments are left unspoken. A local radio station (rhymes with bun whoa who point free the fax) refuses to play rap music and omits the rap portions from popular songs. The implied reasoning is that rap music is objectionable to listeners. I'll save that argument for another day, but it's worth noting that immediately after playing a song with the rap portion omitted, they'll play the song "Blurred Lines". It's fairly common knowledge that the subject matter of that song is rape. Every time I hear that song, I am hurt and angry that rap is more objectionable to that station than rape. I also have panic attacks because of that song, which is *really safe* when I'm driving.

Last but certainly not least, politicians. Mostly Republican. Not that Democrats don't make these statements, but... I'm calling it as it is. Anyway, about a year before my assault, Roger Rivard, a Republican from Wisconsin, made a statement "some girls, they rape so easy". Well, thanks, Mr. Rivard. At least I can take comfort in the fact that you're alone in your feelings.... Oh wait. Nope. There have been dozens of statements similar to this one. To paraphrase a couple different politicians, if you know you're going to get raped you should just sit back and enjoy it. Yeah, I tried that, with no success. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is: if you're a politician who hasn't been raped or sexually assaulted, stick to saying its a horrible thing that needs to stop and then (the most important part) SHUT the FUCK UP! Yeah yeah, harsh language. In all caps. I know. But it needed to be said.

"So, Katie, what do I do for my friends who are going through this?"

Great question. Here's a list:

Hugs. In large quantities.

Ask if they need anything.

Make absolutely no judgments.

Listen.

Help them make any necessary decisions, if they want.

And if all else fails, sing Matchbox 20's "If You're Gone". Thanks, Tommy.