So, Pregnancy Is Inevitable Now?

DO NOT WANT.

I’m pretty afraid of pregnancy.  I think a majority of sexually active women in their twenties are also quite afraid of babies appearing inside their bodies.  Pregnancy is a constant threat weighing on us 75-90% of the time.  The other 10-25% of the time we have cramps, so we’re pretty sure we are not pregnant in those moments.  Those are good moments.  Those are moments that remind me of freedom, that ring of choice and birth control, and that remind that I am NOT ready to be a parent.  I’m far too creeped out by pregnancy.  I mean, my god!  Think about it.  Pregnancy is terrifying and a constant threat.  It takes you over.  It wins.  It is very, very scary.

Why is pregnancy so scary?

Oh, I don’t know… Maybe because a parasite grows inside of you?  Maybe because it makes your boobs go crazy?  Maybe because it’s the thing all women fear before some crazy switch goes off in their head?  Maybe because your body will never be the same?  Maybe because if you have a baby, you ALWAYS have it?  Pregnancy is imprisonment, and it’s a lifetime sentence.  Did I mention the stuff it can do to your body?

THERE ARE EIGHT BABIES IN THERE! EIGHT!

You might be wondering what prompted such a vile spew of anti-pregnancy thoughts, the answer is fear.  Pregnancy is not inevitable for me.  I believe in birth control and I know how to use.  It’s a good thing, y’all.

Lately, a lot of people (mostly my mother and my boyfriend’s friends) have been really chatting me up about babies. The message seems to be: “Pregnancy is inevitable.” I mean, I get what they’re saying. Maybe I will eventually decide to do that to myself or to let someone do that to me.  They all seem to think that for me not to know or for me to deny wanting children is blasphemous.  It’s not.  Some women don’t have children.  Some women don’t want children.  Some women don’t want to make their own.  Maybe I just don’t know.  I do know that I want to avoid this question.

Don’t ask.  Don’t wish babies on me.  That’s weird.

I know that a lot of women talk about the magic of childbirth, but I think many women have also experienced/are currently experiencing life as someone who is deeply and violently frightened of pregnancy and children. I’m tired of people telling me that I have to have kids. I don’t know what the hell I want. I’m 23. Back off.

Why is pregnancy being discussed as an inevitability?  Or at least, why is it being discussed as a fast-approaching, oncoming train?

No.

THIS IS WHAT IT DOES TO YOUR BODY. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS. OH MY GOD.

Basically, babies come from explosions in women’s bodies.  They are scary.  They shoot out of places and things go boom.  Then they cry a lot.  They cry so much.  There is so much stuff happening.  I get that babies are cute and stuff, but wowzers.  No thank you.

The babies get inside of you and then they try to get out of you.

There is just so much scary stuff about this. For example, THERE IS A HUMAN TRYING TO ESCAPE FROM THIS WOMAN’S STOMACH.

Sometimes I have dreams about babies happening, and I wake up in cold sweat.  I don’t wake up smiling and laughing and clapping my hands.  I wake up terrified.  Sometimes I have dreams about drinking and running and being awesome and single and not having babies and keeping my body the same shape.  Those are times when I wake up comforted and happy and joyous and giggly.  Good stuff.

Sometimes I think about my life in ten years.  When I think about that life including kids, it feels messy and sloppy and loud.  When I think about it without kids, it feels messy and sloppy and loud… Wait.  I guess those are the same.

Sometimes I imagine what would happen if I got preggers right now, and while it is better than a teenager getting preggers, it’s still not my favorite idea.

Also, this:

There are just so many things that can happen.  So many babies can happen.  So. Many. Babies.

More on Mr. Akin’s Bullshit (“Legitimate Rape,” etc.)

First, he begs for Forgiveness….

It makes me so mad that he is saying that his issue is “the words” but not his “heart.”  Yes, the issue is about words.  When politicians, when men use words like this to discuss rape, they put it on women.  In our culture we tell women to not get raped, instead of telling men not to rape.

When women are forced to jump through hoops and relive their traumas to prove they were raped, they are being forced and traumatized again.  Abortion is legal and it’s staying that way.  Maybe we should focus on educating men that sexuality is about choice, agency, and mutual desire.  Men should be taught respect and self-control.  Women should be allowed to be sexual and men should be better than raping.  Let’s expect more of the men in our culture.

Let’s stigmatize raping, not being raped.  Victims are victims and they should not be ashamed.  Rapers are evil and they should never be excused.  All rapes are real and legitimate.

For Todd Akin to use these words makes me so angry.  For him to go on and “explain” that women who are raped cannot get pregnant… What the hell?  Who is this guy?  How can someone be that stupid?  Sorry, but pretty much anytime sperm goes into a lady’s vaginal crevasses she has a chance of getting pregnant.  That’s kind of how it works. Ugh.

Todd Akin is one of many politicians making shit up about women’s rights and bodies.  I’m sick and tired of men pretending like they understand rape and abortion.  Actually, a whole heck of a lot of men understand a lot about women – some even understand that there are things they can’t understand.  Many Republican politicians seem to be confused about vaginas, babies, rape, abortion, pregnancy, periods, and other such issues.  I would love to throw some tampons (new, don’t worry) at all the Republican senators… That would be amazing.

Leave our vaginas alone.  Unless you are invited, stay away.  Stay away.

Then, some really amazing grannies take him down.  I love when old ladies swear…

 

This girl also wrote an amazing song about it…

10 Ways to Test Your Relationship

Relationships are hard, weird, and hopefully great.  Every relationship will be tested naturally, but if you’re looking for ways to see just how strong, or good, or whatever your relationship is, here are some ideas.

  1. Ask about porn.  When you do this, make sure to ask about the frequency, type, subject, and any other details you can imagine.  The more you push for details, the more of a test it really will be.  Once you’ve completed asking about this wonderful subject, make  certain you share your interests and preferences just as openly.
  2. Road Trip!  Being trapped in a car for hours and hours and hours is a sure-fire way to see if you secretly hate each other.  Plus, if your partner doesn’t shoot you when you scream and startle them upon seeing a spider…  You’re golden.
  3. Fart in front of your partner while maintaining eye contact.  I haven’t tried this, but it seems like it would work.
  4. Have a really awful day.  Then, hang out.  While it’s hot.  And you’re tired.  Experiment away!
  5. Go hiking.  You will quickly learn if you or your partner are whiny, lazy, weepy, weak, annoying, or cool.
  6. Debate who is weirder.  This will get ugly fast.  You will see what your partner finds odd and possibly annoying about you.  If you can withstand this, you’ll be alright.
  7. Have weird sex.  I don’t care if it’s role play, bondage, blindfolded, exhibitionist, group, or just different – try something a little out of your comfort zone together.  When you do this, you will either build trust and see that you already have a great deal.  OR it will be an awkward mess and perhaps a sign that you should avoid each other forever.  OR maybe it’s bad, but you can both laugh.  It’s a test.  You be the judge.
  8. Meet the parents.  What could be more telling than that?  Do you hate your partner’s parents?  Do they hate yours?  Are they creepy together?  Do you feel judged?  It will be awkward, but you can do it… and if you can’t, maybe you’ve failed.
  9. Meet the friends.  You will be judged so damn hard.  Get ready.  Get set.  Get to impressing.  Friends will tell it like it is.  You have to impress each other’s friends, or you will ruin each other’s lives.
  10. Throw up on your partner’s bedroom floor.  Trust me, this will test you both. Big time.  If your partner simply begins to take care of you, cleans your barf, and then refuses to sleep to maintain surveillance of you and your illness for the night, then they are awesome, and they deserve major rewards.  If they get mad at you and tell you to clean it up, they might be a real dick.  The lover that holds your hair deserve high praise and hella love.

Look Before You Squat: One Woman’s Advice on Toilet Seats

Ladies, look before you sit.  This seems to have reached epidemic levels.  Ladies’ lady parts are plunging themselves into toilets because they aren’t looking before plopping their naked asses on seats other people pee on.  This is something I, as a lady, find confusing.  You see, I’m quite protective of my bum and genitals, thus I look before I squat.

I always have, and thus, I have never fallen into the toilet.  I am really tired of hearing women complain about men leaving the seat up like they’re being attacked and/or disrespected.  Someone just forgot.  It’s like if someone left a seat cushion off a couch…  but you’d probably see that first, and then put it back before setting your rear end on it.  How is this a guy’s responsibility?  You should be more concerned about your own bum.  You should care more.  You shouldn’t feel so entitled.  Also, it’s just a damn toilet seat.  Just move it.  You’ll have to wash your hands either way.

Yes, I think it makes sense for the person who originally moved the seat to move it back, but who gives a crap?  (Pun SO, SO intended.)

Just look.  You’re putting your naked butt (which is really close to you genitals) on something AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA LOOK?

Just look.  What if there’s pee on the seat?  What if someone else’s pubes are on the seat?  Wouldn’t you want to check for that anyway?  Wouldn’t you also want to make sure there’s TP while you’re at it.  Just look.

Guest Post: Seven Things You Should Never Do on a Blind Date

I moved two hours away from my hometown last June, and it has been ridiculously hard to meet people. Scratch that, it has been ridiculously hard to meet normal people. (Not that I don’t enjoy egotistical douchebags from the club…)

Since it has been difficult to meet someone besides at the bar, I decided to join a dating website. I won’t name names, but let’s just say the commercials are false advertisement. Here is the commercial that prompted me to join:

So, because for whatever reason I thought this was a good idea, I made a profile on this dating website and then waited patiently to meet my soul mate. In the meantime, I had several friends supporting me on my decision, saying “Oh yes, my friend so-and-so met her boyfriend on <insert dating website here>!”

Let me tell you, everyone lies. They lie about these “friends” because they do not actually exist. Because I have no clue how they met a decent person among these stupid assholes.

After being basically stalked via internet a few times, I was finally messaged by a guy who seemed, well… normal. Shocking. We sent a few messages back and forth and decided to meet for drinks in a public place about 30 minutes away from me.

After this meeting, I can now say I hold the claim to the worst blind date in the world. Some of you may argue this was not blind because I saw what he looked like before meeting him, but I will go to my grave confirming it was blind because the guy that showed up and the guy in the picture were not the same person.

Which brings me to the point of this post.

7 Things You Should Never Do on a Blind Date

1. Don’t not be the person in your photos. I don’t know why I actually have to write this (or any of these really) but for some reason, this guy thought he would swoon me by showing up as someone completely different than the person he pretended to be on the dating website. In this day and age, Facebook and Google will allow the person you are going on a date with to see your pictures. Keep the ones on your dating page recent, and don’t try to be someone you are not. Because when you show up with what little hair you have left slicked back over your balding head, and the picture of you on your dating profile has a head full of blonde hair, I will be pissed. (I was pissed.)

2. Don’t tell me about your recent run-in with the law. The splendid human being I went on a blind date with told me as soon as we sat down and ordered drinks, “I really shouldn’t be drinking these, I am on probation.” Great, now I am fearing for my life even more than before.

3. Don’t over share. This follows point #2. After letting me know about his stint in parole and then probation, the guy proceeded to tell me about his mom’s cancer and subsequently, death, his sister’s autism, his brother’s bipolar disorder, and his hatred for black and Mexican people. Within 5 minutes of meeting him. Before I ever said a word.

4. Don’t be an idiot. Because I live in Michigan, I get to do a cool thing with my hand anytime I need to tell someone where I’m from. Basically, you hold up your right hand, palm facing toward you, and stick your thumb out. That’s the lower peninsula of Michigan, and you can point on it where you’re from. See below:

Every Michigander knows this. I think they teach you when you’re still in the womb. When this guy (born and raised in Michigan) asked me where I was from, naturally, I held out my hand and pointed to the crook of the thumb (Bay City). He proceeded to tell me that the Michigan hand goes this way (flipping my hand over, and frankly touching me way too early for just having met me). After several minutes of convincing him that no, Michigan goes this way (flipping my hand back over) I pointed again to the area where I am originally from. (This is where he showed me his super smarts)

“Oh, so you’re right by Canada?”

 

Before going out into society, please look at a map and understand your state’s borders, waterways, and layout.

5. Don’t touch me in any way after just meeting me.  Again, I don’t know why I even have to put this, but apparently it needs to be said. Seriously dude, we just met, why on earth are you A. touching me B. trying to hold my hand and C. telling me you want to never let go? No means no, in all accords. Please stop touching me. Stop touching me. STOP TOUCHING ME.

6. Don’t tell me you’re going to kill me. I wish this were a joke. When I couldn’t take this date anymore, I faked getting sick in the bathroom of the restaurant so I could leave. He asked to follow me home (uh, HELL NO) and then tried to kiss me after I just told him I threw up. Then, as I started walking away, he says,

“I better see you again or I’ll kill you.”

WHAT. THE. HELL. Seriously? SERIOUSLY?! Did you just say that to me within an hour of meeting me?! You don’t say that to someone after knowing them for years. Now I am really fearing for my life. I purposely took a roundabout way home, cutting through suburban neighborhoods, checking in my rearview mirror to make sure this person wasn’t following me, and talking on the phone to my parents.

7. Don’t text/call me incessantly. I had just pulled out of the parking lot (who am I kidding, bolted out of there) when I started receiving multiple texts from Johnny Crazy Ass, saying the following,

 “Are you okay? I really should have followed you home.”

“I am so worried about you.”

“Did you like me?”

“I think you’re amazing.” 

“FML I just passed two cops!!!”

After not responding, he then started calling me. I had to block his phone number through my cellular company. He must have realized what I had done, because then he started calling me from his house phone. I had to block that number, too. Thankfully, he ran out of devices to call me from, because Verizon only allows 6 blocked numbers per account.

Needless to say, I am no longer on this dating website. I was willing to give the whole online dating thing a try. I was hoping to prove that online dating isn’t crazy and meet a good guy who could potentially be the guy I married. But it is crazy. I don’t know why people subject themselves to this type of torture. I learned my lesson, and I hope that by reading what I went through, you might save yourself from a painful experience like mine.

&&&   Kate has known Lisa since they were too young and innocent to be ranting and raising concerns, aside from their third grade teacher’s inability to spell. Lisa is a Social Media Specialist who lives, works, and now avoids online dating sites in the Detroit metro area. 

On Men’s Rights

With all these recent political debates going about women’s health issues and so-called gay rights (ahem, Equal Rights, ahem), I thought it was only fair to question the rights of white, middle class males.  Hell, I’ll question the rights of all males!  That’s what we’re doing now, right?  We’re just picking a group at random and taking away everything they deserve, or steadily denying their obvious rights.  Great!  Men are first on my chopping block.

Editor’s Note:

Before we get started, I want to clarify the point of this post…

I understand that this blog might seem largely anti-man; it is meant to be a heavy-handed metaphor.  When someone says, “Men shouldn’t have the right to vote,” people can easily react with, “Well, that’s ridiculous and stupid.  We would never take away men’s right to vote just because they’re men.”  That’s what I’m going for…  If it is easy to see that we wouldn’t want to deny men’s rights simply based on their manliness, I hope it is easy to see that others shouldn’t be denied rights on equally basic identities.  We’re not confused as to whether or not sex is a choice in a man, but we are confused about the “choice” of things like sexuality, marriage, and abortion.  Personally, I don’t care if someone thinks being gay is a choice or not, either way, the rights should be provided.  I get to choose if I want to be a liberal, or an English major, or a girlfriend.  I want to also choose whether or not I can become a wife of a wife, or the wife of a husband.

I attacked men as an example.  I do not think men are solely or wholly responsible for these issues that exist in American politics.  That would be highly irresponsible.  I believe that men are historically given more power, more say, and more of a share when it comes to politics and political movement.  That does not, however, implicate all males as guilty parties in some kind of conspiracy.  It simply means that men tend to have more power.  This is why I chose to use men as a group.  Of course men won’t lose their rights.  That will never happen.  That’s why I thought it could be powerful.  This post is not meant to actually assert that men are evil and shouldn’t vote; it is simply a reframing of what seems to be rather random stripping of rights.  Birth control, for example, is suddenly up for debate again, and I think that is just as ridiculous as denying men the right to vote. 

 

Men should not have the right to vote.

  1. Because a man’s place is in the army.
  2. Because no really manly man wants to settle any question otherwise than by fighting about it.
  3. Because if men should adopt peaceable methods, women will no longer look up to them.
  4. Because men will lose their charm if they step out of their natural sphere and interest themselves in other matters than feats of arms, uniforms, and drums.
  5. Because men are too emotional to vote.  Their conduct at baseball games and political conventions shows this, while their innate tendency to appeal to force renders them particularly unfit for the task of government.

Men should have to register all emissions of a bodily nature. 

These emissions could have fertilized eggs, and are therefore alive.  Thus, any time a man commits murder by ejaculating somewhere besides a vagina, he should have to report the lost lives to the government.  If accidental, the man will simply be shamed and forced to live with the guilt.  If his emission is a purposeful (likely porn-inspired) event, he will be prosecuted for obstruction of life.  He will be forced to wear wooden undergarments for up to one year per emission.

Since birth control has suddenly become so controversial, it only seems right that we protect the rights of sperm denied the chance to swim into a cervix to burrow into a lady’s egg, and possibly create a possibly viable fetus.

Men should be punished for thinking the below things are “always lies.”

Sometimes women tell the truth.  Not all women are trying to get pregnant.  Some women don’t want kids, and a lot of women don’t want them for a long time.  For a lot women, the words, “I’m not mad,” mean that she is not mad.

Men should have to write essays of explanation to everyone they bang, and to everyone they know about they people they bang. 

As a woman, if I choose to sleep with anyone, I am opening myself up to all kinds of judgment.  There are so many political ties to my vagina, and I believe a man ought to have the same level of political tape to get through for banging someone.

P.S. – Sarcasm is a powerful tool we use against powerful tools.

Hide Your Tampon, You Beast!

Are we afraid of periods?  Are we afraid of tampons or pads?  Do ladies think dudes don’t know about periods?  Don’t dudes know?  Periods are not an attack on society.  We all get them.  It just happens, y’all.

I had a wonderful experience this week.  I was in the wide open spaces of my office (visible from the doorway), when I ferociously dug through my purse, carelessly took a tampon from my tiny lady business purse, and dared to hold it for all to see before shoving it, slowly, into my giant dress pocket.  That’s right, people.  I grabbed a tampon – IN THE OPEN.  I am a monster!

Moments after my sinful act, a concerned elderly lady (actually elderly) explained to me that she saw me perform this act of horror, and that I was inappropriate, dishonorable, and altogether yucky.  She was offended by my tampon stashing.  She was offended by my lack of discretion.  She felt I should be more careful, and far sneakier whilst collecting and transporting such feminine goods.  WRONG.

I am not ashamed of my menstruation.  I am a woman in my (barf) child-bearing years.  I get my punctuation every month.  Personally, I consider the crimson tide a celebration of life unmade.  Most single, sexually active women probably have similar reactions.  Sure, cramps happen, but cramps are the song a body sings to remind you that labor would be even worse.  It is a warning and a party all at once.  At this point though, it’s really just a party.

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU DIDN’T MAKE A BABY!  Thank you for telling me, body.  This is great news!

People should not be weirded out by a young woman with a tampon, a pad, or some other period-y product.  It’s in the wrapping.  It’s new.  How is my period offensive?  I don’t want to tell you about it.  I just want to be able to carry a tampon in my own damn office, or down a damn hallway, or in front of other people.  Why?  Because I do.  It’s a fucking tampon.  Get over it, you child.

I was never nervous or embarrassed by buying feminine hygiene products, even as a teenager.  I have friends who still get embarrassed about holding tampons or whatever in the store, but I don’t.  If I don’t feel weird, why should you?  I should be able to walk up to a check out lane with condoms, tampons, pads, adult diapers, hemroid cream, diet pills, and crocs without shame, and without making anyone else feel ashamed.  You don’t know me.  I don’t know you.  Nothing should be that surprising.

Vaginas bleed sometimes.  Sometimes guys get boners.  People buy condoms.  I buy tampons.

The next time some one in a store, or an office, or wherever gets all weirded out by seeing me with a tampon, I will bust out the below tampon flute and go to town on that bitch.

April Fools (You’re the Fool)

Pregnancy is not a joke.  Please don’t joke about being pregnant.

  • It is an imminent danger, people.
  • You might already be preggers, and you just don’t know yet.

Don’t joke about being hurt, sick, or imprisoned.

  • We’re your friends.  We’ll be worried.
  • Ever heard of a curse?
  • How about the boy who cried wolf?

Don’t fake break-up.

  • We deal with enough drama as is.
  • If you’re one of my crazy friends… Well, it won’t go as planned.
  • Real fights might result.

Just don’t be a total dick.

  • Don’t worry people.
  • Don’t leave your joke hanging for too long. People will believe it.
  • Punchlines also require good timing.
  • Your life is not a PUNK’D episode.

(On another note, why did they remove the “E” from that title?  It makes no sense…)

 

Politics of Pooping: Dating Edition

Pooping scares people.  That’s why people’s pooping patterns can tell us so much when dating…

The Politics of Date-Poop

  • If a man poops in your apartment, the first time he is there, he is not interested in dating you long-term.
  • If a man poops at your place right before he leaves to go home, he is an asshole without proper manners. Just wait 10 minutes until you get home!
  • If a man discusses poop in front of you within two weeks of knowing you, he considers you a dude/bro, and he does not want to date you.
  • If a new girl in your life discusses poop in front of you (if she’s a new mom discussing baby poop, she’s not crazy, just annoying… although, how did you dating a new mom…), she’s probably a weirdo.
  • If a chick poops in your apartment without major stealth measures within two months of knowing you, she is not interested in sleeping with you.  Girls tend to be pretty weird about poo.
  • If a first date discusses bowel patterns, you need to run. RUN.
  • If someone wants to involve poo or poo-talk, you also need to run. RUN!
  • If a date says, “Sorry I took so long in the bathroom…. There was a line.”  Believe them.  They are trying to maintain their dignity.  Just don’t make eye contact and move on.
  • If your date is a potty-mouth, you may proceed.  Well, if you’re fine with hearing every goddamn thing they say…