Sunday, March 18, 2012

An Open Letter

Lovely readers, I know I haven't written in a while and I promise I'll get you a life update post soon. But first? I have to say some things. 

Dear GOP, Christian Right, and especially you, Rush Limbaugh,

Aside from being misogynistic pricks, you're behaving completely batshit. And I don't approve. I have several points to make and I need you to shut your never-ending chatter and actually listen.

First of all, stop calling women sluts and whores. It's disgusting enough when you persist with the name-calling in order to avoid any sort of logical rhetoric, but when you attack individual women, especially as representative of blanket female behavior, you really sink into new depths of depravity. You think we're bad? Your behavior trumps any amount of sex we're having, believe me.

But your actual behavior belies your hateful sewage that seems to spill out every time you speak. Because you guys can't seem to get enough of the sexy ladies. So which is it, people? Would you like us to be virgins or whores? Time to choose.

Or maybe it's some adolescent grudge against women because you just couldn't get a girl way back when. Well, it's time to grow up and let that go. We're not the enemy. You're your own enemy.

And don't get me started on you women who hate women. Must I quote Mean Girls? Don't make it okay for men to call us sluts and whores. You're undermining your own sex and putting the hard work of all the strong women before us back 50 to 100 years. What's next? Repeal suffrage?

But back to my sluttiness. It's none of your goddamn business who I have sex with and how often. Just because I get laid does not make me worthy of your derision. Sex is not bad. It's not. No matter how guilty you feel every time you have it (or wish you had it). And you should want me to have access to affordable contraception because I am positive that you don't want to pay for my disability when I contract AIDS (because I couldn't get condoms) or to feed my children that I can't support (condoms or the pill) or, and try not to die of a heart attack, my abortion. Getting me and women everywhere access to these services helps your economy and the oh-so-dreaded government spending. Getting women access to contraception prevents abortions. Why is that so hard to understand?

Moreover, if I get this right, your problem is that you don't want to pay for women's health services (like contraception). You say that if the government pays for it, that makes women prostitutes. Hrm. Setting aside that that is probably the most illogical argument I've heard in a long time (I mean, I can't even make that make some sort of sense), I actually think that the government should start regulating prostitution, get prostitutes tested, provide them with health care and contraception. But I realize that's too much of a stretch for your very closed minds.

But back to the pill and it's contribution to sluts everywhere. You clearly don't understand how the pill works, so let me 'splain it to you. In order for it to work, you have to take it every day. Understand? Every day. You don't just take it when you have sex, you just take it every day. You don't take more when you have sex, you just take it every day. The cost is the same if you have sex once in a year or 365 days. It's the same.

Also, and this is going to blow your mind, say we use your term "slut" to mean women who have sex with different partners. Well, those women might take the pill, but I guaran-fucking-tee that they're using condoms. Why? Because this is 2012 and this is the age of AIDS and no one wants to die. Who doesn't use condoms? People who aren't educated in why and how to use them, people who don't have access to condoms, people who only had abstinence-only education in school? So who is spreading STDs and HIV? That's right, those same people. And when they contract AIDS, who is going to pay for their health care (because they're now not eligible for private insurance and they're probably too sick to work so they're on social security), oh yeah, the government. Which you hate so much, but which seems to pay your paycheck so nicely.

But yeah, most women who just use the pill are actually in committed relationships. So there goes your slut theory. Yet even women in committed relationships need affordable access to contraception. Why, you ask? Because not everyone has your millions. Because not everyone can afford to or wants to feed 12 children because they couldn't get the pill. And don't even suggest that these women are sluts for having sex with their boyfriends or husbands. If you really think that it's reasonable for couples to be celibate except in the effort of procreation, you're really bigger hypocrites than I thought.

And don't get me started on overpopulation. Once again, do you really want more children born onto this planet? Or, better yet, into the system? You don't want to pay for welfare, for food stamps, then get your heads out of your asses and provide contraception.

But I'm not done. Because there's a whole 'nother group of us women who take the pill but not for contraception, who take the pill because it's medically necessary. I am a mess. My ovaries have persistent cysts, my uterus is tipped, and I have Endometriosis. I need the hormones to regulate my body and to help with the pain. So I take the pill (every day, just like we discussed). I have for years. I can't imagine living without it. Does that make me a slut? Does that make me morally questionable? But it's the pill and I bet my bottom dollar that any insurance company just looks at that prescription and doesn't see that it's medically necessary; all it sees is THE PILL. And if we allow insurance companies to not cover what they deem morally questionable, women like me could be screwed (that word choice was deliberate).

Morally questionable. Now it seems like a good idea to you. But what if your insurance company is run by a religion that deems medicine morally questionable, or blood transfusions, or  vaccines? Or, GASP, Viagra? Chew on that for a bit. Then get back to me.

Also: as always, a reminder that while you may think this is a Christian nation, nowhere in the Constitution is there a national religion. In the contrary, we have separation of church and state. So keep your church out of my uterus and my vagina.

I realize this post is going to get a lot of heated comments. I will not be responding to them, however. I've stated my views. Feel free to debate, but please keep it civil.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

In other news

Oh my gourd, Internet, it has been two whole weeks since we last talked and so much has happened! I have no idea where to start so I guarantee this post will be disjointed, rambly, and altogether random.

Let's begin!

A few days ago, I almost died. For reals. And it was so scary that I cannot stop telling the story.

I was walking in a crosswalk in downtown Portland, on a green, clearly having of the right of way, when a big SUV barrels around the corner going pretty fast. Clearly they weren't looking and they weren't going to stop either. I had to run to get out of the way and they missed me by maybe a foot. And they just kept going! Never even paused. Probably never even saw me. If I hadn't been paying attention, I'd be roadkill right now.

On the upside, I am loving my new place! Hobbes is happier there and it's so nice to see him sitting all over the furniture and watching out the windows. I know the tension in my old place affected him too. Bitch roomie did try to fuck up my happiness again but it's all settled now. I don't even want to get into it, suffice to say she's leaving me alone for good and I never want to see or think about her again.

There is one major lesson I got to relearn because of all this though: One's happiness is the most important thing. I'm not talking about making sacrifices or doing what needs to be done, etc etc etc. I'm talking about not putting oneself into situations that are not only happiness suckers but unnecessary and I'm talking about setting aside one's attachment to pride and money and all those other things we place before happiness.

I am confident that had I had to go to court over this drama, I could have made a damn good case and I would have won. But did I want this to drag out months and months? No. I know I didn't have to pay any more money but did it make the problem go away? Yes. Sure, I handled it legally and covered my ass, but when it comes right down to it, money is just money. It's not worth as much as my happiness. And my pride? Not worth as much as my happiness. I don't need to prove I was right. I don't need to win anything. What I needed to do was walk away and put the whole thing behind me. Worth it.

So that's over. Hoorah! Let's all drink to that.

And I got my tax return so I have money again! I may have gone a little crazy at the grocery store buying luxury foods I've been denying myself for the sake of my measly budget. Hey, after weeks of baked potatoes (which I do love) and soup, how can a girl resist ice cream and chips and gluten free cookies? I guarantee it will all be gone in a few more minutes. And then I'll have to buy fat clothes.

Oh and I had the weirdest night the other night. So I'm hanging out at my new fave bar with my new friends and ex new guy is there, which was inevitable and which was also awkward awkward awkward as all holy hell. But that was okay for the most part.

But there's this other guy in the group that I am interested in so he and I are talking and flirting and that's all great. Then the roommate of an ex boyfriend walks in and he and I talk a bit and I'm looking around to make sure that ex isn't there too (wasn't, thank the lard), but it's just a bit weird and coincidental at this point.

THEN, this other guy walks in, a guy I went on a date with forever ago and it was NOT a good date. Like probably on the list of worst dates list ever in the world. But it doesn't end there. Turns out Bad Date is friends with my new friends. But wait. There's more. He comes over to me, sticks out his hand, and goes, "Hi, I'm Bad Date." (See what I did there?). And I go, "I know, we went on a date once.

You should have seen his face. It was like an episode of Friends. You know the one.

And, truthfully, it seemed like he felt really badly for not remembering me and to be fair, I look quite a bit different now. He was like, "I take it it wasn't a good date?" And I was like, "Yeahno." It took him all night to remember and he apologized and we had a good laugh. But holy fuck, people! Really?

So not only were all the men I've ever dated in Portland converging in one bar one night (that could be a good book plot) but one didn't even remember me. Awesome. Thank heaven that HP didn't walk in and complete the circle of awkward. Plus, now I'll have dated like 3 guys in this group. I'm that girl. Oh joy.

And yes, you read that right, I said 3. Which means it's going well with the other guy I was flirting with, who we'll call Eminem (even though he's nothing like Mr. Mathers in any way really). I'm gonna keep this under wraps for a while but I'll just say we had a lot of fun.

Oh and I cut off all my hair! I donated ten whole inches to Locks of Love.

Holding my locks
The stylist was super sweet too. He was like, "some bald kid is gonna look gooood now." Which is so wrong but so funny. I do have lots of hair, or, I did anyway.

Anyway, here's my hair now:

I realize I'm a huge dork. That's why I included an artsy shot too.

So I must stop myself there. How've you been, Internet?
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