Sexiest thing a guy's said to me lately

"There is a big grey area between consent and enthusiastic participation. I want enthusiastic participation, or I'm not interested."

See also: Amanda Hess's piece On The Difficulty of "Saying No".

The day of quotes

Anyway, so I gave Lynn Harris a quote on why Congress shouldn't eliminate women's ability to get abortion coverage in their health insurance plans, as though there's some honest debate about why a minority of people's religious beliefs should be the foundation of public policy or business decisions in America today. Oh, wait, there is, because those people are asses. But still.

From Amanda Hess, on rape and alcohol consumption

Go read the whole thing, but here's the part that Amanda puts together really well that too many other people [cough, Arlington County prosecutors, cough] can't wrap their heads around.

The idea that women who drink are an affront to the “ideals of femininity” has contributed to the widespread perception that drunk women are less-than-perfect rape victims. The perception that female drinking is a conscious sexual subversion on the part of women is problematic on a number of levels. First, it tells women who drink that they’re asking for it; that if they are raped, they are somehow responsible for the crime committed against them; that it is their deviant decisions that caused them to be raped. Second, it tells rapists that women who drink are not valued by society; that they are considered “lesser” women; that everyone knows drunk girls are down for sex, and no one will believe they can be raped. In other words, it points out exactly who rapists ought to target in order to avoid the consequences of their crimes.

No taking my idea!

Because I can never resist a good pun, an opportunity to tweak both the whole "slutty Halloween" tradition and the anti-reproductive rights forces, or my friend Erica, I contributed to Planned Parenthood NYC's parade of pro-choice Halloween costumes.

Fair warning: I am really going as a Nuva Ring. Don't even pretend like you thought of it first.

Standing the test of time

In the summer of 2000, I was living in New York because I had been in love with a man here, and because I was too stubborn to let it go at the cost of a boring internship that would pay me a fuckload of money.

We'd broken up, I thought, because I'd been living in D.C. and the fantasies he'd spun of an apartment together near Gramercy Park and the reality of a long-distance relationship were too much for him to bear. In retrospect, the difference between the (extremely traditional) life he wanted and the one he could have shared with me could ne'er be broached.

But, stubborn as ever and with the scent of lucre in my nostrils, I moved here anyway. It wasn't about him, it was about the money, right? I was such a good liar then.

Anyway, I listened to this song a lot that summer.

Damn, it holds up. Thankfully, it's not about him anymore. But it's such a weird feeling, the sense that your emotions have become Fortunato and you're Montresor, walling them up with the cask of Amontillado, ignoring their screams until they die off, going from that sense of deep knowledge to mere acquaintances.

New author archive

With the new launch, there's a new archive of my stuff on Air America. Click here to see it!

Cleveland Rocks?