Have you decided?
Her response:
I love you, even though I guess I haven't cheered you up with this response.
After that I graduated from subway crying to desk crying. (Yes, again.) So, yeah. That's me today.
Posted by
Liz T.
at
3:09 PM
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Rather than busting any myths today, I'd like to whole-heartedly endorse one: ribbed condoms are awesome.
I know, I was skeptical too. But that is the magic of RA bags, and of dating someone who works for Health Services so you get one all to yourself--variety! I did not imagine that those little ribs would actually make a difference, but I happened to pull one out of my stockpile one day, and...wow. I'm now sort of addicted.
I'm guessing they don't work for everyone. If what's INSIDE the condom is on the small or large end of the spectrum, you probably won't feel much, and if lubrication is scarce, they can be a little uncomfortable--but then if lubrication is scarce, the whole enterprise is gonna be a little uncomfortable, so that's hardly the condom's fault. These days my ideal condom is the combination ribbed-and-thin variety, so everyone gets a little something extra.
Hooray! That is all.
Posted by
Liz T.
at
3:09 PM
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Labels: MYTHBUSTERS, SEX
Can I tell you how much I hate uriniary tract infections? Yeah, I got one the first time I ever had sex, which is I think a testament to how much I like sex that I ever even bothered again, because UTIs FUCKING SUCK BALLS. AND NOT IN THE GOOD WAY. Ahem.
I don't have one right now, since I did a lot of 100% Pure Cranberry Juice chugging after my last rendez-vous. But I was expecting one, as this guy almost always gives me a UTI. It's probably because we tend to do it like 6 times in one night/morning (after all, we only see each other twice a year), and I just don't have enough pee to flush things out after each time. I learned the hard way that if I don't pee within about 20 minutes after sex, I'll spend the next few days popping AZO until I finally have to cave and get some Cipro.
Once I got a (minor, Cipro-less) UTI just from masturbating. Honestly.
There was a study awhile back about how cranberry juice is just generally awesome, especially for women. The pure stuff is kind of nasty, but makes me feel butch so that's ok. I like to swig it from the bottle as though it's whiskey and I'm a grizzled old man in a Sam Sheppard play. The inevitable question, which the poser always pretends is a joke: does mixing it with vodka make it any less effective? Because that's quite the spoonful of sugar.
Posted by
Liz T.
at
3:06 PM
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Labels: GROSS STUFF, SEX, UTIs
I actually started this post awhile ago, and am reviving it now because Clinton's getting more heat for once again showing emotion--this time there was liquid actually in her eyes! It was again in response to someone saying something touching, and the backlash is again swinging between "she's too weak to lead" and "she's faking it, that Machiavel." Shouldn't we all be over this by now? Le sigh.
It occurs to me that, while I've mentioned crying several times, I haven't really talked about the phenomenon. I remember an episode of Sex and the City (I know, I know) in which the ladies talked about mens' fear that they'd start crying at work. Someone asks Miranda, "Haven't you ever cried over a brief?" and she says, "Yes, in the privacy of my office." Later in the episode, Samantha (a stranger to the phenomenon) cries after a job interview in which the perspective boss says he can't hire her because of her sexual history. She tells him off, and manages to make it into the elevator just before the tears escape. She gets the job.
Anyway. My theory is, some people are cryers. I definitely am--and it's a total nuisance. But yeah, it probably won't shock you to learn that I don't think crying is a terrible thing or something to be ashamed of. Sometimes we might feel a little ashamed, because we're human and crying is not always fun, but all in all, who cares? Men should cry more. It's very therapeutic.
Every now and then I think about who has actually seen me cry. I cry a fair bit--not ALL the time, maybe once a week on average, and sometimes it's just a few tears of frustration rather than full-on waterworks. But it's interesting making a list of people who've seen me CRY cry. Certainly anyone who's ever stage managed for me. I think my roommate has seen me flat-out cry four times, if last weekend counts. My college friends, back when I drank way more and we were all involved in each other's business, probably caught me weeping every other weekend*, but otherwise I THINK that the vast majority of my crying is private. I call it "watering the couch." So if you see me cry, you're either close to me, or have somehow backed me into a serious corner**.
Then there's crying at work. At this job, no one has ever caught me crying, and it's only even happened a few times. At my job in Texas it happened once, in front of my boss, and it was AWFUL--mostly because I had no idea why I was crying. It was a slightly tense conversation, but I didn't even feel like I was crying--more like my eyes were mysteriously leaking. I realized later that it was the first time ANYONE in Texas had seen me cry. That thought was a little depressing...it meant I wasn't close enough with anyone to really let go.
So, Leave Hillary Alone!
*Hi Michelle!
**Or you're my poor Psych Research Methods professor and Bush has just won re-election. She was very nice about it.
Posted by
Liz T.
at
1:24 PM
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Labels: CLINTON, CRYING, SEX AND THE CITY
Ada Calhoun of Nerve has an interesting little piece comparing the Clinton and Obama marriages. It is usually annoying when people analyze the Clintons' relationship from afar, mostly because of the sexism involved and also because of how speculative the endeavor is, but I like this piece. First of all, it's sympathetic and equal-opportunity, and also because it actually has something interesting to say. I quote:
"[The Clintons] have an absolutely typical Boomer union, a rickety first-generation prototype of the modern marriage. They were early adopters of this "equal partnership" thing, so while they deserve all credit for having pioneered, their marriage is the romantic equivalent of the Apple IIe."
Whearas, according to Calhoun, the Obamas represent the future of equal-partner marriage. The comparison isn't actually a good one, because whether or not Michelle supports Barack is very different than whether or not Bill supports Hillary--a political wife, no matter how independent, is expected to support her candidate husband. There's nothing new there. Still, I appreciate the possible insight into Billary--that he would want to support her, that he would know all the theory, but that he's still a man of his time. And I like that someone believes they actually love each other.
And if she's right about the Obamas, that's encouraging for the rest of us.
[Insert stuff here about how much better my dad is than Bill--my mom likes to say "he's more a feminist than I am." But on the other hand he's about 3 years too old to technically be a Baby Boomer, so maybe that comparison doesn't work either.]
Posted by
Liz T.
at
12:26 PM
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I had dinner with my parents last weekend, and started talking about Chris Matthews. Like many people, they only really knew about the statement that he apologized for, and not about the numerous other sexist things he'd said. My mother suggested that this was actually anti-Clintonism couched in sexist terms, rather than the other way around, and I told her that I'd wondered that myself until I saw all the many other misogynist things he's said. I emailed her the link, and when I saw her next she talked to me a bit about her reactions.
She seemed weary as she spoke. She'd been penning an email to me on the subject, but couldn't seem to finish it--it took my being home sick, and her trip uptown to feed me ginger ale, before she could really bring herself to talk about it. What she expressed was the same depression I often feel about being a woman in this society, the fundamental sorrow over the inevitable realization that, however far we've come, however hard we've fought--and she's been fighting, hard, for a long time--there are still people eager to shoot us down at every turn.
I'm not used to seeing my mother wilt this way--she doesn't get depressed (I get that from my dad) or even really understand what depression is like, experientially. She gets mad. To see her hit a wall where even anger didn't help was very powerful. I've already identified my mother with Hillary Clinton, and I think she identifies with her herself. How could she not? They're both strong, fiercely intelligent 60-year-old women who've fought their way to the upper echelons of extremely male-dominated fields. They've both had their appearance and femininity scrutinized--my mom has said that people at work have long perceived her as "bull dykish," despite the joy she takes from make-up, jewelry, and clothing. (Hell, she just had a facelift.) It must be very triumphant for her to see one of her sistren climb so high, and very demoralizing to see her practically stoned to death by so many.
Interestingly, what she expressed the most hurt about was Katie Couric. There are plenty of reasonable, non-sexist qualms a person could have with Clinton or Pelosi or the like, but my mother says, "Explain Katie Couric." Sigh.
My mother rallied, of course. But there was a subtext to what she was saying. It went something like, "This is what I need to tell you about what it's like being a woman." It was a warning, a hard truth. Somehow, it was also a bit inspiring. Perhaps just as a quiet bonding moment with my mother. I was going to write, "but also as..." something else. But I couldn't think of what the something else might be.
Posted by
Liz T.
at
10:56 AM
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Labels: CHRIS MATTHEWS, FEMINISM, MY MOM
Now, this doesn't really count as liveblogging last night's debate, because I'm posting it now and not as the debate was happening. But, I WROTE it as the debate was happening, to my friend Alden, really without his consent, so I thought, what the hey. Please note that I tuned in a little late. Possibly an hour late? I didn't know it was happening until my mom called me, crowing about her new theory (see below). But, enjoy!
| 8 minutes |
| 7 minutes |
Posted by
Liz T.
at
1:22 PM
1 comments