I've been gone far too long, enjoying my Fuck All Y'All Week, and to make up for lost time I thought I start with one of my favorite features: Sexual Mythbusters.
I don't know which side of this counts as the myth. To me, the myth that needs debunking is that, obviously and as a matter of course, everyone uses condoms, every time they have sex, unless they're in a basically serious relationship. Well, wrong. Because it turns out that a whole bunch of guys labor under the mistaken belief that it is okay to have unprotected sex EVEN ON A ONE-NIGHT STAND.
So, yeah: not okay.
Fortunately, the news that people think this surprises many. Neighbor Steve was SHOCKED when I told him the story of the Kiwi pick-up who asked how many condoms I had on me and was clearly dismayed when I told him I had five--he'd apparently been hoping to outlast my supply, like I'd be unable to resist and would yield to his nude yet latex-free allure. As Steve said, appalled: "No offense, but he doesn't know where you've been!"
None taken. I'd thought the exact same thing.
I am sort of pleased with myself that I've almost never been tempted. I've only done it once, with a guy I'd been seeing a month or two who'd been tested recently. (Another time, after unwittingly smoking hash*, I came really close but we quickly thought better of it.) One time a guy ASKED if I wanted him to use a condom, and I seriously considered never fucking him again--it said to me that he often DIDN'T use protection, and was possibly diseased, and after all condoms break so maybe I shouldn't risk that. He did, however, have a semi-legit excuse for asking--his dick was really big and the condoms were uncomfortable, he had trouble even getting them on. So the next time he brought Magnums and we were fine. One time this guy wanted to go bare, and I had the excellent excuse (not that an excuse is necessary) of not even being on the Pill that month, and he said, "I can pull out." I actually said, "You know better than that." He laughed, had to concede that he totally did know better, and that was the end of that subject.
But seriously dudes, what gives? Forget even about being considerate--can you REALLY not know at this point that your lady friend might have something you'd rather not share? Especially if you just met her! Wrap that shit up!
My good friend Sojourner recently told this tale of moronitude: a guy not only tried to put a "P in [her] V without a C**" but THEN, when asked to get tested, said "Where would I do that?" !!!Exclamation!!! There are dudes going around fucking without a net who DO NOT EVEN KNOW HOW TO GET TESTED. WTfuckingF?
Ladies, are you allowing this psychotic behavior? Even if we think disease will never happen to us (and BOY are we wrong, btw), I always say: "You know what would be really bad? If I got pregnant. Wouldn't we rather I just, yknow, DIDN'T get pregnant?" Or AIDS, or syphillis, or what the hell ever else. Here's another way to look at it: Ribbed condoms are awesome. Imagine if your bike helmet actually made riding MORE FUN!
Great. Now I want to have sex. Thanks guys.
*I'd thought it was just pot, and did NOT understand why I was so sick the next day. But yeah, remember those old commercials about drug use leading to unprotected sex-- "Get High, Get Stupid, Get AIDS?" After the hash incident I got what they were saying.
**Making "PVC" my new euphemism for sex--namely, protected sex, which is the only kind I'll be having any time soon.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Mythbuster: Gloveless Love
Monday, January 28, 2008
Things I Did This Weekend
-Acted like a total crazy person and committed several elementary blogging faux pas, the evidence of which has been expurgated.
-Cried about being a crazy person. (Three times.)
-Apologized for same. (I hope sufficiently.)
-Flirted.
-Got laid! My good ol' deflowerer called me up and we had a lovely time. Dearest Sojourner is totally right about the importance of a "winter spoon"--I'd forgotten how great it is to have a warm naked man in your bed on an icy cold day!
-As a result, at least partially got over the need to make a conquest of the famed Guy I Shouldn't Fuck. I needed at any cost to get laid, or at least make out, even if I knew it was a bad idea.* But now I've had my Sex That Goes Nowhere, so I'm a little less driven to distraction. And Nowhere Man is out of sight/mind--at this point, if Nowhere Man were someone I had to see all the time, I'd probably get depressed. It sucks always being back at Square One.
-That being said, I have no will power (see: me being a crazy person). So we'll see what happens.
-Fell on first sight for yet another skinny guy in glasses, this one theatre-affiliated. We smiled at each other! Baby photos to come.
-Tried to explain to a friend why I cared if anyone thought I was a slut. Did a bad job.
-Had a totally good time at a party I was angsty about.
-Fell in love with a specific bagel, but that's really not so interesting.
Now, hopefully, I can start posting anything of substance.
*As I told Sojourner: "My two main orifices are screaming for me to step on the gas; it's just the rest of me that's whining about the speed limit."
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Experiential Feminism
As you all know, this is a new blog. So it was only the other day that I realized exactly what it was that this blog is "about." In trying to explain this to two of my friends last night, the best words I could come up with were, "Experiential Feminism."
(Or maybe "experiential feminism." Capitalization might be a little much here.)
Here's what I mean: this is not a blog like the wonderful Feministing, which brings you regular news of what's going on with feminist issues around the world, forming and informing feminist theory. Nor is it a dating blog, or even as personal a blog as Diary of a Mad Blacktress. What I really aim to do here is chronicle what it's like, on a day-to-day basis, being a young feminist in New York and in "today's world"--reconciling and melding the feminist ideals I grew up on with the realities of being a woman, making my way, etc etc.
What are these ideals, you may ask? And what these contradictions? That's fodder for a longer post (or several). But here are some of the basics: both my parents are self-avowed feminists, who had the habit of giving adult answers to any question I asked, supporting me in all my endeavors, and banning from the house anything bearing the word "diet. " It was good. Then puberty hit, and life got harder. Being smart and strong and vocal, and not obsessively counting calories, suddenly seemed totally at odds with getting boys, who were suddenly interesting to me. The older I got (get), the more I struggled (struggle) with the double-whammy that girls don't get as much respect as guys, but if they DO get respect then no one wants to sleep with them. (Or so it seemed.) And when I'm bombarded with negative messages about guys, how do I even get it up* to want one? Putting aside those kind of identity issues--how do I change the injustices? How do I cope with the fury that they, and my powerlessness, cause me?
I want to write about all this and more. I want to write about my life in part to figure it out as I go, but also to demonstrate (to myself and others) that feminism is a growing, malleable thing. I want to write about the myriad different ways in which we all make it a part of our everyday lives.
Also, The Pickup Artist.
*So to speak.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Suffragette City
Welcome, attractive reader.
As a modern sexy feminist living in that Man's World I keep hearing about, I believe in sisterhood. So I am proud to introduce this blog as kind of a sister site to that of the young, talented and black blogger, Sojourner "You Can't Handle the" Truth. So never again doubt, my friends, that sisters are doing it for themselves. After all, I have had it up to here [please imagine my hand at the top of my forehead, like Gwen Stefani in the "Just a Girl" video] with the ubiquitous meme of women hating each other, competing over men, and scratching each other with their retractable claws. (I, for one, reserve my claws for carpeted posts and people's feet moving under blankets.) I love women, even if I don't want to date them*!
[Now you guys know that I am a serious, respectable blogger because I just used the phrase "ubiquitous meme," perhaps even correctly.]
So please tune in for any and all of the following: female factoids, political ruminations, rants on men/boys, links to more experienced bloggers, philosophizing on The Pickup Artist, and tales of sex in and involving a certain city (but with more self-respect and less expensive shoes). Also occasionally some angst, cuz you can't spell 'suffragette' without "suffer." You have to rearrange the letters, though. A woman's work is never done.
*But if you'd like to fool around, we can talk.
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