Do NOT Use As Directed

I've been particularly achy lately, mostly in the neck and shoulders. Recently, as I lay on the sofa, my cat decided she wanted to knead the upper part of my chest--far preferable to her usual, painful practice of kneading my belly fat--and I realized the culprit was my breasts. They're pretty large, after all, which can take its toll, and the cat paws had found, below the breast itself, chest muscle that greatly appreciated the massage.

After sort of idly massaging the area myself for a few days, a bold idea occurred to me. I took out my plug-in "all-body massager" and decided to use it for--GASP!--a body massage. As I moved it across my chest, down and around my sternum, and under my arms (not the pit, but the area a bra covers), I wondered with annoyance if the thing had gone soft from years of focusing solely on the aches between my legs*. I had to press pretty hard to feel that it was doing any good. While I knew I was finding the sore muscles--because it hurt--I didn't think it was actually helping, so I gave up. Not very satisfying.

And then today. UGH. I've made things TEN TIMES WORSE. All those muscles are sore and my breasts feel like they weigh about 35 lbs. each. My sternum is so sore to the touch I'm surprised I didn't bruise it.** I wore a sports bra all day and now, in my pjs and reading, I have to lie flat on a big pillow for some support. Can't someone just build me a nice shelf to put them on? I'm very fond of them but right now they might as well be lead balloons.

So, ironically, I used my vibrator in its official, packaging-touted function and it totally backfired. It will have to stick to massaging my clit, and forget about this "all-body" nonsense. I suppose it's just as well--I can get massages from my friends and family*** far more easily than I could a hand job, which is very much as it should be. And if it comes down to a splurge, I'd rather pay a masseur than a prostitute. Masseurs are fully trained.



*Which are definitely what you'd call "recurring."
**Though I do have a little almost-hickey on my right breast, which I'm pretty sure is not from other activities.
***And cat, apparently!

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The Schmuck Debate

I'm sitting here on a Sunday listening to old Dan Savage podcasts instead of going to the gym,* and he just fielded a call from a gay man who is not attracted to uncircumcised penises. I realized I'd not yet weighed in on the topic myself. The topic, of course, has three subheadings:

1) The Attractiveness Debate

Dan's caller is the evidence here--some people find uncircumcised penises unattractive, particularly in cultures where circumcision is the norm. It is, of course, the norm in MY culture, so it was only very occasionally that I've encountered a penis that was fully intact. And frankly, you don't always notice: it's dark, or there's a condom on it, or it's erect (in which case they mostly look the same anyway). So I never had a conscious opinion either way. It was only in my recent adulthood that I got a good, lights-on look at an uncut version, and I have to say...it was ADORABLE. It's true that I really liked this guy, which Dan says is key to getting over whatever you genital prejudices are, but it looked rather sweet and mysterious, as though it needed undressing. I developed a crush on it.** So to my cock-sucking friends out there, I hope you can view the presence or absence of a foreskin as but one other facet to find endearing about your sexual partner.

2) The Health Debate

Here we get more tricky. There are very recent studies that show circumcision reducing the transmission of HIV by as much as 50%...in Africa. It's unclear why, and there are a lot of other factors that could be at play here, given that the public health landscape of Africa is pretty different from our own. (And condoms are better anyway! So use those whatever your status.) Most previous research shows that there's no hygienic difference between a circumcised penis and an uncircumcised penis, provided the penis-bearer has been taught the relatively simple art of Keeping It Clean.

3) The Penile Rights Debate

For me, this is what it comes down to. There is the argument that removing the foreskin decreases sexual sensation.*** Furthermore, sometimes the mohel or the doctor screws up, and your child is left with severely decreased, or nonexistent, sexual functioning.**** And then there's the simple fact that we as a society are saying, for no actually good reason, "Your genitals are bad. There is something inherently wrong with them which we must fix, painfully, as soon as possible." I have no opinion as to whether the pain of circumcision saddles guys with a life-long neurosis, but I wouldn't let someone shave off part of my daughter's clitoris just because the bible said so.

Obviously, most circumcised guys come out just fine. There are a lot of them out there, apparently not crippled either physically or emotionally. There's no judgment here--I suppose if I have a son, and there is a father in the picture, I would leave the decision up to him. (The baby's father would, after all, have far more experience having a penis than I.) But if the decision were left up to me, I don't think I could go through with it, not with an easy mind. I'm a Jew, but obviously not one who does things solely because my religion demands it. And since I don't know entirely which side of the debate is right, I expect I would err on the side of caution.

What do you guys think?


*Obvi.
**Of course, things went WAY south, and a few months later I would tell a friend that I hoped this dude's new girlfriend "was reluctant to suck his uncircumcised dick." Which a) sounds sort of like a gypsy curse and b) was not very mature, but heartache requires only public maturity, not private.
***In my unrelated research into the evolution of monotheism, I discovered that followers of Asherah, a pre-YHWH fertility goddess, who honored her by fucking. These worshippers (Semites, aka future Jews) believed an uncircumcised penis was blasphemous, as the lessened sensation of circumcision allowed men to last longer, and thus worship more. So there's that.
****Then there were those mohalim who were giving 8-day-old boys Herpes because, traditionally, they would put the babies' penises in their mouths after the cut as an analgesic. But let's not blame that on circumcision as a whole.

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Getting To The Root Of Things

Jezebel's awesome Dodai just wrote an interesting post on her dislike of mirrors--or, more specifically, her discomfort in being confronted with her full reflection. This instantly reminded me of the brief period of time when my hair was pink:

(Strangely, not a well-photodocumented part of my life.)

I dyed my hair pink in the winter, just as I was turning 23, during a time when I was SEVERELY depressed--like, Panicked-mother-screaming-at-my-pharmacologist depressed. I don't know if this was rationally, consciously my reasoning at the time, but I needed a pick-me-up. I think I was remembering a Times Magazine "Lives" piece from many years ago (which I have not been able to find) about a young Asian woman who dyed her hair pink and discovered the joyful effect it had on people around her. It made people smile. And I remember the time I first noticed my own cotton candy tresses having this effect--on myself.

Sometime before or after an appointment with my therapist, I went to DSW to look for cheap-ass shoes (another form of anti-depressant). I was unshowered, unkempt, my hair in a messy ponytail and some old show shirt on my slumped torso. I glanced up and accidentally saw my reflection in the mirror. And I smiled. It was the first time, perhaps since childhood, that I felt attractive. Attractive unto myself--not just, oh I look good today because of my hairstyle, because this top is flattering, because of my make-up, because I'm having a good face day, but actually like it didn't matter what I did in the morning, or what I wore, or any of that. I felt like if I were messy and poorly dressed, as I was that day, I looked like an attractive person who hadn't showered rather than an ugly hopeless wreck. It was an amazing feeling of relief.

Which doesn't necessarily make SENSE, because what had changed was, after all, a question of what I'd done to my hair. But I felt like me. No matter how I looked, I was getting across something about myself that I wanted to get across. And I kind of miss it. But the months passed, and as time came to redye, so came time to interview for post-grad jobs, so I went back to the red. Besides, towards the end (as my depression began to be manageable) I did start to feel a little silly. Part of what I'd been combating, with pigment, was how fucking SERIOUS everything felt all the time. But at heart I guess I'm a serious person. Pink was an important place for me to visit, but I couldn't live there.

And life goes on. The last time I saw my reflection and felt truly, inherently beautiful was when I was on Ecstasy, but the mirror and I still have our friendly moments. And I still have fun playing the frosted cupcake now and then--pink has won itself a cherished place in my wardrobe and in my heart. Because part of the fun was, for once, letting myself be a girl. Not acting so tough. I think, looking back, that was important to helping myself heal--embracing both my toughness and my softness. And now of course we're getting into tricky territory because if pink=girl and pink=soft, does girl=soft? I think what I was telling myself was: no. Look. You are a girl, and you are not soft. And You are a human, and you are very soft. So cut yourself some fucking slack. If you don't let yourself be soft, you will break.

So, that's my anecdote. I just wish I had more pictures.

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Stop The Presses, I'm In Love

With Keith Olbermann. Just watch:



It's sad to have to be thinking about Rush Limbaugh ever again, but in recompense Keith is giving me butterflies.

[via Feministing.]

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Wednesdays With Kyle (Working Girl Edition)

Remember Kyle? My favorite e-correspondent on the ins and outs of third wave feminism recently pointed out that I don't make clear on this blog my stance on prostitution. We agreed that you can probably guess based on my posts about other things, but hey--let's actually talk about it!

-I believe that prostitution should be decriminalized and regulated.
-I believe our justice system's MO of prosecuting the hooker and not the john is both stupid and reprehensible.
-An underage girl having sex for money should be treated as a victim, not a criminal.
-I am appalled by the way our society frequently treats prostitutes as negligible human beings.

I do recognize that this is a tricky subject. Obviously, many sex workers would rather not be in their line of business, and rather than punish them further we need to provide more alternatives to poverty. The Clinton administration slogan on abortion was "safe, legal and rare*"-- I suppose my stance on prostitution is "safe, legal and willing."



*Speaking of which, this phrase has been dropped from the 2008 Democratic Party platform--in exchange for more detailed language which many feminists feel improves the platform, in that it is more specific in its support for comprehensive sex ed, family planning, and post-partum help for women who DO have children. Hooray for saying "choice" and meaning it! (And it was primarily written by Obama's policy director, Karen Kornbluh!)

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Poetry Corner: A View From Across The Trenches

I was tooling around on Google the other day trying to find the poem "When Man Enters Woman," because I really like the final image. I mistakenly thought it was Sharon Olds--it's in fact Anne Sexton--and thus discovered an ACTUAL Olds poem that I didn't previously know:

Sex Without Love

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
Gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth, whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

I myself have wondered at those who have sex exclusively within relationships, so it's interesting to have the favor returned.

Having never seen the poem before, I'm still trying to parse it. I would call it "not unflattering," certainly. I enjoy the religious imagery--that resonates--and am intrigued by the athletic metaphors. I relate strongly to the idea of sex making something of its own (aside from procreation), of taking us somewhere. But really, the poem speaks for itself; I'll let you enjoy it.

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NON-Animated Role Models: Poached From Defamer

Like, forever ago, I posted a list of my animated female heroes and swore the list of live-action ladies was soon to follow. Well, obviously not. There are just too many! I will try and get back on this but in the meantime, Defamer has just posted a really awesome tribute to "The Top 10 Female TV Characters Women Want To Be Like And Men Want To Be With." It's awesome! There's one with which I viscerally disagree, but with the others I viscerally AGREE. Check it out.

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Hold Your Tongue

Okay...has anyone else ever had the urge to apologize for a mediocre blow job?

I know that is the stupidest thing. I'm not even talking about accidental biting or something like that (because then a simple apology is just polite). But when my fellatio is not up to my own standards, I am filled with a heartfelt desire to apologize for wasting the dude's time, and to assure him that I'm usually better than that. Even if he knows I usually do better!

Of course I cannot actually say anything. In general, I am a fan of not apologizing in bed. (Unless, as with above, it's just a courteous "Sorry!" for accidental collision or the like.) For the most part we shouldn't have to apologize for not having orgasms or not being in the mood or wanting to do some things but not others, what have you. It doesn't help, it perpetuates feelings of inadequacy, and often makes your partner feel bad, as though its hir fault for not showing enough enjoyment. So why this remorse over the occasional awkward sex act?

The last time I felt this way, it was with an acute feeling that I was squandering a magnificent erection. I felt like Bush, taking a huge surplus and turning it into a huge deficit. But, dude, shit happens. Move on!

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The Third Wheel Gets The Grease. Or Should.

After listening to a bunch of Savage Love podcasts, and watching The Secret Diary of a Call Girl and old episodes of SatC, and now checking around on the internet, I am newly irked by something: Almost anything you see/read about threesomes focuses on the effect it has on the couple...and completely ignores the third person. Askmen focuses largely on how to reassure your "girlfriend or wife," and insultingly advises you to kick the other girl out afterwards. Cosmo terms even offering your man a threesome "a bonehead move,*" and treats the hypothetical Other like a potential homewrecker. Lame and a half.

I've had two threesomes, the first of which I often don't count because it was in many ways a Bad Scene (plus it was just a drunken one-off) and the second of which rates as one of the best sexual experiences of my life**. A threesome has the power to be really life-affirming or really destructive for a single person, and not enough people talk about that.*** And yeah, I understand that there are a lot of issues a threesome could bring up with a couple, but these arrangements can be just as tricky for the non-becoupled one. Attachments can form, complications can arise, and one might wind up feeling used, feeling in the way, or just plain feeling left out.

I never really thought about this until I engaged in a threesome of my own, but one of the things that annoys me the most is that, apparently, some couples want there to be a No Kissing rule****. Why would the person agree to this??? Do you have NO concept that you owe your partner pleasure, as you do any sexual partner, and that ze's not there solely for your own entertainment??? It's important to respect a couple's boundaries, but it's just as important for a couple to make their single friend feel like ze's part of the team. If you can't handle that, you should take Dan Savage's advice, which is to hire a professional.

Dan, of course, answers the questions he gets, and he has in fact addressed questions posed by a threesome "guest star" (as Samantha Jones calls it). And most often he is rolling his eyes at a couple who thinks they're going to walk into a bar and find a hot bi girl who will come home, do exactly what they want and nothing more, and then disappear afterwards. Dan points out that there are plenty of women like this, and they are called prostitutes--if you don't want any strings on your threesome, look one up.

I have found one essay from the point of view of the non-girlfriend, a young woman named Caitlin McRae who finds herself drawn to couples as a general rule. The best part is where she contrasts the "part of the team" couples with the "probably need a hooker" variety:

These aren't invitations to sexual exploration. They're requests for a favor, wherein I'll be a means to an end, a one-time antidote to this particular couple's sexual ennui: I push from the bumper while they pop the clutch. This doesn't do much for my self-esteem, as you can imagine.

So to all you couples out there, remember there are different kinds of threesomes. Figure out which you want. And if you can't afford a good call girl, don't take it out on your friends.

On a side note, Maxim UK offers the worst piece of sex advice I've ever heard: "DON'T, whatever you do, at any point, laugh." I know it's Maxim but, seriously?!?!?! In any sexual situation, however many people it involves, sense of humor is a MUST--the best partnerships I've had are the ones that involved laughing in bed. It's extra important in a multiple partner situation, where there's more room for fumbling and awkwardness and injury.

And I mean, c'mon. It's funny.


*Which it could literally be; three people moving around in one bed can easily result in head-to-bone collisions. Not that Cosmo would know that.
**Interestingly, the first was not with a couple, though one of the dudes had a girlfriend in another state. (Yeah. Bad Scene.) The other dude was basically gay. Totally hot, followed by months of fallout. Definitely in the category of "Glad I made that mistake already so I never have to make it again."
***I will point out that the "bad threesome" was when I was younger and less mature, someone insecure about both my appearance and my virginity. It's totally possible that I couldn't have handled my "good threesome" back then--even as an adult, it's required lots of communication and reassurance. Seriously: people pay a lot of lip service to communication, but it's amazing how helpful it is, even if it seems hard sometimes.
****No one's ever tried this with me, for the record. That's what makes me so incredulous that some people do.

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