Sunday, February 7, 2010

My New Favourite Word

(Yes, I put a 'u' in the above. I think I get a few months' grace period where I'm allowed to use Anglicisms and British spellings as I see fit. I'd be chuffed if you'd humour me.)

On Friday, Dan Savage did a great on-line Q&A via The Stranger's blog, The Slog*. He responds to a question from a lesbian who wants to do something cheap but special on Valentine's Day with her girlfriend--not just staying in and having sex, which they do plenty of. Part of Dan's response:

"$20 will get you a nice bottle of wine -- get a prosecco, sparkling Italian wine that is 1. cheap and 2. suddenly everywhere. And then go someplace homantic and sit together and drink the booze."

My emphasis.

Okay, it's obviously a typo, but "homantic" is my new favourite** word. I think it's perfect for people who'd like to mix in some scratch marks and lube with their hearts and flowers. You could apply it to serious couples who met at, say, a sex club, and are returning there for their 25th anniversary. So homantic! Or should you ever get down on one knee and propose marriage, ring in hand, to someone still chained to the wall from their flogging--that'd be totally homantic! Especially if you both agree to put the video on YouTube.

Any suggestions for a good homantic Valentine's Day? Leave them in the comments.




*Does one italicize blog titles?
**Okay, last time.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Birthday Reflection Series Part 2: Location

(...Location Location, I know.)

This installment is so delayed because it's the one on which I have the fewest interesting thoughts. Mostly it's personal stuff, without much room for philosophical explication. But I'll try.

I thought I was eligible for a visa in London, but the laws changed and I'm very much not. The day I got this news (not quite 2 months ago), I was devastated. The day after I got this news, I was over it. I hadn't been happy there. No career momentum, very few real friendships, and a general feeling that the Brits were not my people--most of my thoughts on representations of race, gender, and sexuality were dismissed as "precious," a word I have come to absolutely LOATHE.* While I rarely felt that I was being discriminated against because of my gender (which sped my blogging decline), I felt that my gender was discriminated against by the culture at large, and that this was going completely ignored by a complacent population--even by the cool, educated, artsy, liberal people with whom I was surrounded. I was planning on mining this for blog posts, but the ideological and social isolation was too great, and the idea was depressing. I didn't have a lot of friends in London, and there weren't even a lot of people I WANTED to be friends with.**

Moving to London the first time, eight years ago, was the scariest thing I've ever done.

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Sunday, January 31, 2010

Since We Probably Ain't Getting Reform Anytime Soon...

...I have a thought on health care.

If I had a boyfriend who had health insurance*, and I didn't have health insurance myself**, my boyfriend should be able to buy my birth control on his insurance. This is in the insurance companies' interest too, as knocking a girl up can lead to plenty of expensive trouble.

That would never happen in this country, of course. But it's worth mentioning.

Which could lead us into a discussion of why there aren't more birth control options for men, but others have already done that better. I will say that my favorite book on feminism, Manifesta, seems to believe that vasectomies are easily reversible, and that sexually active men should all just get that done until they're reading for kids. My casual research***, however, indicates that this is a dubious claim--it often has a permanent effect on reproductive ability, and while a lot of the stats are positive, doctors encourage men getting vasectomies not to think of them as reversible. It's also quite expensive, though paying for birth control pills/rings/etc over decades can start to add up. Also, surgery's not to be undertaken lightly.

Also, doesn't "-ectomy" imply that the vas deferens are removed, rather than just severed? Linguistics matter, people.



*I do not, but bear with me.
**Which I don't right now, ack.
***Two things I discovered: 1) There is a site called vasectomyreversalusa.com, and 2) You should not google "vasectomy reversal" unless you're prepared to see some strong imagery.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Birthday Reflection Series: Age

[This started as one post, but it felt overly long and I found myself persistently not posting it, so I decided to break it into three easily digestible chunks. Enjoy!]

Two weeks ago, I turned 28. (Or, if you're in the theatre industry, 27 again.) That makes this a good time for looking back/taking stock for three reasons: age, location, and blogging. I'm in London currently, but in 4 days I'll be back in New York, permanent-style, and drastic moves (or even less-drastic moves) tend to inspire reflection. Also, my (slowish) return to blogging has had me combing through my own archives, rereading old posts and thinking about how I've changed since I wrote them. So, in case you're interested:

Age

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Friday, December 18, 2009

Help Wanted: When The Princess Bride Is Just Too Gritty

(aka, Not All My Posts Are About Rape)

I was on vacation with the folks in Miami last month, and the weather wasn't great so we were stuck inside a bit, and my dad was working for half of it, so my mom and I got a little bored at times. One afternoon we ended up watching No Reservations, the romantic comedy with Catherine Zeta-Jones, Aaron Eckhart, and Abigail Breslin. While it might seem like it follows the recently popular, woeful rom com trope of bringing a career woman to her knees, upon viewing one learns that this is NOT the case. More on this later, the point is:

I wanted to make a list, in its honor, of romantic comedies I actually like--movies for when I don't want to think, but don't want my intelligence insulted. The problem is, this list is very short at the moment. So, dear readers:

Any suggestions?

PLEASE suggest. But don't say Love, Actually, I hate that movie. (More on that later, too.)

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Update To Previous Post

I've updated the post below, but just so everyone knows about it I'm pasting it in here, too:

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Raping Your Audience

Below, some camera-phone photos from an "advert" in the London underground:





If you can't read the text at the bottom, it says, "Whether you approach the driver, or they approach you, there's no record of the journey and you're putting yourself in danger. Text CAB to 60835 and we'll use GPS" to text your three nearest cab numbers."

If you can't tell from the photo, the woman is crying.

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