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.

Married for 40 Years! It can happen.

Though I was going to write a post about my devastation that Amy Poehler and Will Arnett are separating (because that is seriously the end of the world and it makes me want to cry and scream and I think it might mean that love is dead and I’m scared that the world will end and that this is the first sign of the apocalypse and I just can’t stop crying about it because it’s so damn sad – they’re so beautifully funny and their union was everything we were going for – and by “we” I mean EVERYONE – and this is the most devastating news and I’m so sad and I don’t want it to be true and it’s awful and I know we’re all suffering), but instead, let me talk about my parents.

They’ve been married for 40 years.  I’ll give you a moment to process.

Barb and Don are so adorable. Seriously, they’re so in love and so happy and so, so weird.

These two got married on September 9, 1972.  Barb was 20 (but a wee little baby) and Don was 23.  They were so young and so in love and such hippies (sort of).  They are adorable and so very in love.  It took 15 years for them to finally make a baby, though they tried and tried and tried.  In 1987, they welcomed my older sister.  Two years later, they welcomed me – I was even shorter back then.

They’ve had some tough times, an aneurysm and a stroke between them, but they are inspirationally, Notebook-level in love.  Even when they’d fight, they would always come and find my sister and me to explain that they were just mad about “something stupid” and that they’d surely get over it soon.

I cannot even imagine being married right now, so it makes it even more impressive that they did it and did it right at such a young age. I feel weird even talking six months in the future with my boyfriend, but Don and Barb knew that they wanted to spend their lives together.

Don proposed when they got back in Barb’s car (which he was driving) after they had pancakes.  He basically just turned to her and said, “Will you?”  She obviously agreed.  Though this detail is less than cinematic, it’s sort of the perfect starting to a simple, happy life.  They never needed a big show; they have each other.  For the record, I would like a proposal with more planning (so would Kate)… At least a poem or something…  Perhaps a watermelon?

When I feel sad about celebrity, friend, and my own break-ups, I just focus on them.  They’ve given more unrealistic expectations about love than any amount of Disney or chick flicks could.  They’re amazing and wonderful.

Happy Anniversary, Don and Barb!

 

You can stop whining about how hard it is to be young now.

More and more often, I’ve been seeing articles bemoaning being in your twenties (in particular, Thought Catalog and the HuffPost Blog love making lists on this topic). I wrote a goofy version (at least I like to think so) myself–far less, well, serious and doom-y. But I’m really, really, REALLY getting tired of people bitching and moaning about being twenty-whatever in combination with one of the following:

A. Not having a job. I get that this is frustrating. I do. Having a degree that you worked hard for and that you can seemingly wipe your ass with sucks. However, there is not some sort of cosmic significance to your lack of employment. We have a shitty economy. We are, realistically, in a rec(depr)ession, and you’re pretty much at the bottom of the ladder. It is, yes, adversity that you have to work through, but plenty of other people have worked through it before you. It is not something special for our generation, it does not make you better/unique/more self-aware. You’re also the one who refuses to do menial labor because you’ve been fore fed some bullshit about it being below you for the last two decades. You annoy me. Shut the hell up already.

B. Being single. And drunk. And single. Okay, I get it. You’re lonely. And you’re verging on being a full-blown alcoholic. This has nothing to do with being in your twenties. Being drunk and lonely is not a profound experience, nor is it the special property of the young.

C. Feeling directionless and using your blog to whine about it. Blogging always straddles that strange line between making your point and getting whiny in order to elicit sympathy from total strangers. One thing that is true about many people in their twenties (but also true of many teens and even a boatload of baby boomers) is a need for constant reassurance/confirmation from their social circle. Why else would social media be so addictive and so conducive to the humblebrag?

D. Being too far or too little self-aware. It depends on who you ask on this one, but for all the time you, author of blogpost/article, are spending reflecting on being in your twenties (instead of oh, I don’t know, living them) I sure hope you’re erring on the “too much” side of this equation. Honestly, quit taking yourself so seriously. Chances are, by the time you hit your mid twenties, you’ll experience something that will change the way you see the world or yourself. That’s healthy and appropriate. Whether that’s losing a beloved grandparent, having to break off a long-term relationship, or even getting a first phone call from a collections department, all of these things can force you to crawl out of your (supposed) vodka-induced coma from part B of this list and re-evaluate your shit. It’s called life, and it is not special or particular to being a young adult.

E. Whining about being broke. Your parents are paying (or stopped paying) your rent/grocery bill/phone bill/bar bill/healthcare bills (think Lena Dunham à la Girls). You live in New York/L.A./Miami/Chicago. Um. What did you think was going to happen if you moved to a HUGE metropolis and had, if we refer to part A, NO JOB? Shit is expensive! I hope your parents have already paid off the house they have in Happytown, USA because even a shitty studio apartment in some of those places is probably going to have them forking over twice as much as they did for their mortgage. Give me a break. Stop acting like they’re obliged to be paying for your dumb ass to live the high life while remaining totally oblivious to all of the benefits you do have, like parents who are not only willing but able to help you with your rent.

F. Jerking off to your own perceived intellectual, social, and cultural superiority. We get it. You have clever Tweets. Who knew so much wit could be packed into a mere 140 characters? Your Instagram photos each have the perfectly selected filter for the five hundredth picture of your cat, or the one where you’re holding up a half-drunken PBR at some skeevy neighborhood bar you like because it’s “pure” (that is, you’re the only person under forty inside of it). Your Tumblr is both thought provoking and delightfully cheeky in the 21st century intarwebs sort of way. You’ve read (and get) Derrida and Naked Lunch. You need to remind your Facebook friends how brilliant and unique and clever and unique and underground and unique and unique and unique you are. Did I mention you’re unique? And your blog, OH! Your BLOG. It is so deep and meaningful and there’s just so many feelings you need to discuss.

The biggest problem is that there’s a good chunk of “twenty-somethings” who aren’t anywhere near this obnoxious, self-righteous, self-absorbed, and arrogant.

We live on our own. We have jobs. We pay our own bills. We might have put ourselves through college. We aren’t stressing that we don’t have the newest version of the iPhone. We still don’t really “get” Twitter. We’ve (self-consciously) learned how to resist the humblebrag. We take care of our parents, financially, physically, or emotionally. We appreciate cheeky internet humor as much as the next guy, but don’t feel compelled to base our entire self-worth on it. We, too, sometimes drink to much, have a crisis of conscience and confidence, and really–really–enjoy watching Girls. We just don’t take to the virtual streets and feel it’s necessary to tell the world each passing detail of our lives, or record them in photographs, preferring to experience them without a camera lens in our face or our fingers racing across the touch screen of our phone to check-in on Facebook 24/7. And quite frankly, we’re sick and tired of getting lumped in with people who do act those ways and do those things. I’m looking at you, New York Times.

So, let’s be real. Being in your twenties, like being in any other conveniently-named age range, has its ups and downs. Sitting around pampering your bruised ego on the internet or looking for affirmation of your feelings and your self-worth from your peers, known or unknown, is a (bad) choice, not a feature of an age group. It’s okay to feel pissed off because you’re unemployed or because you can’t find a boyfriend; it really is. But it has nothing to do with your age.

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.

It’s Senior Portraits, Not a Centerfold.

Why have senior pictures become the new place for 18 year old girls to showcase their budding bazongas? Or young men to fantasize that they’re on the cover of GQ? Here are some things NOT to do when you’re getting your (or you know someone else who is getting their) senior pictures taken.

1. Wear make up, but don’t channel Liza Minnelli. Nobody looks good like that.

2. Wear real clothes. In fact, wear your regular clothes, or maybe one step nicer. Remember, your mom is giving copies of these to your grandparents. Do you really think they want to see your cleavage or your bare chest? Yeah, think again.

3. Don’t pose in strange, contorted ways. The idea shouldn’t be “How can we twist you so your boobs hang out?” Just stand or sit normally. Move your chin up and down the way the photographer tells you to so your face doesn’t look weird because of shadows. If he tells you to throw your head back and grab a pole, you may want to consider another photographer–dude’s obviously a perv.

4. Keep your eyes open. There is no reason you need to close your eyes, especially when you’re lying down. Hello, I don’t care how your eyeshadow looked when you were eighteen; I care how you looked. Including your eyes.

5. Smile. Don’t try to be Tyra Banks and “smile with your eyes” to look sexy. You come off looking like an amateur centerfold with your lips half-parted. If you wanna be in pornos, wait til after high school.

Birth Control Is Good

What’s the deal with hating birth control?  It’s a good thing.  It’s not your business.  I don’t want to have a baby, but I will continue to have sex.  These are facts.  People have sex.  I’m not ashamed, but you might be.

My vagina and I like to make decisions on our own.

Now, back off and shut the hell up.

Yay!  Condoms!

On Marriage Equality

First, let’s get one thing straight (pun intended), this issue is Marriage Equality, not Gay Marriage.  Calling this issue “Gay Marriage” implies that gay people are getting something special – like a Big & Tall store which is a special place for big and tall dudes.  People have the right to choose who they love.  Americans are allowed to get married, if they are both consenting, unrelated, free-willed adults… but only if they are of the opposite sex.  Wait?  Don’t we all deserve the freedom to marry whoever we would like (assuming we want to marry an adult who also wants to marry us)?  Don’t we?

Second, let’s celebrate the fact that the 9th Circuit Court in California overturned Prop 8: meaning they ruled that California cannot ban gay marriage (marriage equality).  Prop 8 Decision!  More on the decision HERE and HERE!  This deserves a few major YAYs!  I’m so happy, proud, excited, and relieved.  This shouldn’t be so hard.  This should be simple.  Gay people should have equal rights to marriage in every state.

Bigots hate.  Hate is evil.  The gay community does not deserve hatred; they are humans (the regular kind) and they deserve every single right a straight person has.  People deserve to be treated like people.  American people ought to be treated as if they are American (again, the regular kind).

Ever wonder why there isn’t a straight community?  It’s because they don’t have all that much in common, and it’s also because they aren’t being denied their rights, so they don’t have to unite.  Not all gay people are the same; shocking, right?  Just like not all people are the same.  WOW.  Yet, they still deserve the same rights.

I’m just so sick of hearing people argue about Marriage Equality.  It shouldn’t be open for argument.  This should be a cut-and-dry equal rights decision.  Of course gay marriage should be legal.  Of course it is simply marriage.  Of course we should all have the same rights.  This is America, right?  Freedom of religion… Freedom from religion…

Arguing against marriage equality because a religion doesn’t endorse homosexuality should be a clear false start.  This isn’t a “Christian Nation;” you are welcome to be a Christian in America, and most Christians realize that accepting and loving their fellow humans is a major part of their religion, and so they don’t attack gay people.  Don’t hide behind a religion, you’re not a Christian, you’re a bigot.  Also, religion doesn’t mean a thing in American government.

A few more things:

1. How is a straight marriage threatened by a gay marriage?  Straight marriages seem fine even through all the mail-order brides, arranged marriages, divorces, cheating, abuse…  People still get married.  Marriage will be fine.

2. Why do you care so much what gay people do?

3. Gay people also feel love…

4. How would you feel if the government took away all marriages?

5. How do you feel about inter-racial marriages?  That’s a no-brainer, right?  Of course people of different races can marry!  Think about it!  We left that up to the states and it turned out SO well.  Wait a second…

Finally, in 50 years, I believe strongly that we will look back on our nation’s past and hang our heads in shame that people in this country resisted Marriage Equality.  This is a civil rights issue.  Someday, this will seem like it should have been so easy because it should be an easy decision to make.

Imaginary Person #1: Should gay people be allowed to marry?
Imaginary Person #2: Are they consenting adults of sound mind?
Imaginary Person #1: Yes.
Imaginary Person #2: Oh, well, then… Duh, YES!

I’m tired of being ashamed of our currently bigoted country.

Babysitters Are Important, Y’all.

Look, I get that having kids complicates your life, and that you will want to bring your kids with you to restaurants, stores, events, libraries, parties, and whatever else there is.  I get it, y’all.  However, as you continue to go through life with your child and/or children, remember that your crying baby will ruin everyone else’s dinner, shopping experience, party, study session, etc.  Your crying baby, your terrible two-year-old, your eight-year-old diva, your asshole-of-a-teenager are all part of the reason I cannot walk into a Target without getting a headache.

While I was out and about doing my Christmas shopping, I heard many a mother threaten their children with, “If you don’t do this, or stop that, Santa won’t bring you any gifts.”  First of all, that’s not sounding like great parenting.  Secondly, maybe you shouldn’t bring your four-year-old to Target two days before Christmas while it’s packed with other stressed out moms and dads.  That child is clearly going to melt down.  You are going to melt down.  Everyone else is going to be uncomfortable, and they will all leave with headaches.  Did you really need wrapping paper that badly?

Sometimes, you need to leave the kids at home.  Sometimes, you need a babysitter, a dedicated sister, a really amazing friend, or a grandparent to steal your child for a few precious moments.  You can also order things online.  Free shipping!  No lines!  No crying babies!

I know what you’re thinking.  You’re wondering why I don’t just stay home and avoid all the crying babies.  You’re thinking that I sound like an ass because I’m not considering that people can’t afford babysitters, and don’t always have support systems of people who can watch their kids.  There are a lot of single parents, and people who just didn’t have a choice of whether or not their kids would accompany them on their various trips.  I also understand that, but this website is devoted to rants, and this is a rant.  Obviously, I am not advocating for a kid-free world; I just want to go to Target without getting a headache because a three-year-old is mad about not getting candy.  I want to go out to lunch without fearing that someone’s child will throw knives around the room.  I want to read in a library without hearing anyone’s family drama.

Babysitters are amazing gifts from the Flying Spaghetti Monster and/or god.  Hire them.

Oh, Santa!

More terrible Christmas commercials. This time it’s Kay Jewelers and the woman who wants to bang-a-gong-get-it-on with “Santa.”

Really? This is as bad as that stupid “Santa Baby” song. No. No one wants to bang Santa, or anyone in a Santa suit. The Santa suit is a big red sign that says DON’T HAVE SEX WITH ME.

Look what Viagra has done. Yes, I blame you, boner pills. Otherwise there would be no way a 300 year old man who flies around in a sleigh with magical reindeer could get it up. Really.