She Brings Home The Bacon, He Fries It In A Pan

Please excuse my long absence guys--I've had tonsillitis! Yes, I am almost 26 years old and have tonsillitis for the first time. I got to hear my doctor use words like "necrotic" and "foul-smelling" in reference to things in the back of my throat. Fun! Anyway.

This week's advice-themed Time Out New York has a mini-article on how our parents' relationship teaches us what we know about love. (Sounds obvious, but whatever, it's like half a page.) My first reaction to this, as always was, "What did my parents teach me about marriage? That sex is what keeps it together." They didn't teach me this by example (I don't even know what that would entail, but it sounds pretty scarring), they taught me this by saying it, repeatedly, over the course of my life. I think it makes total sense--if you're gonna fight about things like finances and in-laws, there's gotta be some incentive to patch things up in a timely manner.

But then I remembered a conversation I had with my mom semi-recently, when I told her about my "going dutch" post. Since shortly after September 11th, when law firm he worked for closed its doors, my dad's been self-employed and working from home. This has had an unimaginably positive impact on my dad*, but also on my parents' marriage. The big thing was that he took over the cooking almost entirely. My mom had done the bulk for about 20 years, but it turns out my dad not only loves to cook, he's awesome at it. He's a real gourmet, he loves ingredients, he loves shopping for quality food.

All this I knew. What my mom pointed out to me, which I hadn't realized before, is that my dad is actually in semi-retirement. He'll take on a case, and it might take a year or two, and if he wins that winds up being about15% of my mom's salary. My mom, you see, is for the first time in her life, "making what [she] would make if [she] were a man." Apparently, they sometimes joke that he's her househusband.

I am not conflicted about this. My dad is 65 years old and worked hard all his life. This semi-retirement wasn't quite planned, it just worked out well. I'm not sure my mom would be happy that way--she isn't, either. (She envisions herself someday dropping dead in the middle of a conference call.) I'm tempted to muse over, "Is that what it takes for a happy marriage?" But I know better. They were happy beforehand, just more stressed--it's not secret that, for the bulk of our lives, we work hard and are under a lot of strain, and then if we're lucky we get to enjoy our latter years in relative relaxation. But I do wonder about the model my parents have set. I always assumed-slash-hoped I would end up much like my mom...which presented a problem because I, like her, loathe cooking. It's no coincidence that, before my family went on a health kick in 2001, we ordered in or ate out 2-3 times a week. Now when they order in it's because my mom worked late. So the question is, will I be able to find a husband** who will cook for me?

And that, my friends, is the real American Dream.


*He got a dog!
**[cough]at all[cough]

Read More...

Summary only...

Mythbuster #3: [Insert cheesy euphemism for pubic hair]

This is not quite a straight-out Mythbuster, because the truth? I don't know what guys like*. All I know is, I am pretty riled up over the subject of the bikini wax. I'd thought we were finally starting to hit a backlash against the whole 'landing strip' thing, and now Time Out New York has an oh-so-cute little article making it sound de rigeur. HOWEVER, they neglect to actually ANALYZE their own little infographic:

As you can see, 65% of men expect major deforestation...but 65% of women just give their trim a little trim--AT MOST. (Also, way to drop that parenthesis, TONY editors.)

So that's the myth we'll be busting today--the 'everybody does it, I have to do it, if I don't do it I'll be a lonely, unattractive, loserish freak' kind of myth.

It certainly feels that way at times. The media (apparently including you, Time Out) makes it seem like all women have 80-100% of their pubic hair ripped out by the roots once a month, and that this is normal and sensible and cool and that anyone who forgoes this ritual is a wingnut who doesn't take her life seriously. Then I talk to my friends and realize this isn't true. And I look at these numbers and realize it REALLY isn't true. Not everyone does it, it's a choice, and not every guy cares. Okay, some of them care, but they are assholes like this guy:

"A well-coiffed, nice-smelling pussy is a thing of beauty, something we brag about to our friends. After the implicit moment of awe and respect you receive from your buddies, we talk about the girls with nasty boxes—how we fucked them anyway, how it was ugly, how it was tragic, how it will never happen again. On the other hand, a girl with a great-tasting, -smelling, -looking box…that girl is a princess. We wank it to her."

Thanks for sharing, Henry. Clearly, you love women. (BTW: the next, nominally-nicer-or-perhaps-just-less-honest guy ALSO links hairiness to smelliness. They offer no opinion on vulvae that are hairy yet hygienic.)

Do you want to go Brazilian? Awesome. It even looks good on some (read: skinny) people. I myself used to get waxed occasionally--just the bikini line, since I'm NOT skinny, and taking off much more than that makes me look like I'm wearing clothing 2 sizes too small. I started feeling guilty about it, though--about putting myself through pain and expense for this kind of beauty standard. The fact is, I don't know how those women do it, the ones who go totally bare. By which I mean: how do they deal with stubble??? When I wax, it only stays smooth for a few days, and you have to mostly grow it back out in order to get waxed again. So don't women who wax spend like 75% of the time looking gross (and feeling itchy) anyway? Perhaps in light of this, and in acknowledging that the whole thing's an expensive, embarrassing hassle, The TONY article advises PERMANENTLY shearing your "nasty box," laser-style.

Full disclosure? I almost did this. Again, just the bikini line, but still--I was there in the spa-type-place ready to say good-bye to stubble and ingrown hairs (on my mom's dime, no less). As the lovely woman was debriefing me, however, I realized I was fighting back tears. I freaked out, I bailed, and then fortunately it was my birthday so I sang karaoke and got totally trashed and everything was fine. But why the waterworks? I HATE the stubble and bumps at the top of my thighs. But suddenly it felt that, by permanently removing even a little of my pubic hair, I was admitting, officially, that my body was shameful. Despite 25 years of mostly hating my body, suddenly it seemed perfect. I loved it. There was nothing wrong with the hair it grew naturally, the hair that meant I was sexual and adult, the hair that no guy would ever feel compelled to drop a grand on removing from his own body.

Maybe that's stupid. I still shave that hair off when I think anyone's going to be in the area. (Or when I wear a skirt that might be wind-sensitive.) Why do the two feel so drastically, emotionally different? I guess it's the permanence of it. We all like to look our best, especially for our lovers, but we don't wear the party dress 24/7. I think shaving now and then--even waxing now and then-- feels okay because it feels like I'm doing something special. It's not for every day. But since the glossy pages of our culture demand women be perfect at all times (perhaps dating back to the ladies of The Rules telling us to wear lipstick when we take out the trash), that optional, every-now-and-then choice has become yet another Shame issue. Well, I'm taking a stand. I officially DENY that this is required. Because it's not. And guys like Henry can suck my hairy twat.

*In this and all things.

Read More...

Summary only...