Philia

We don't say "I love you" enough.

As a society, I mean.

We reserve it for romantic partners and family members, and yes, you want some way to show them they are special, they are above others-- but still. We don't say "I love you" enough.

Think about it. You're probably only in love with one person, tops, but you love others. The feeling we feel for our closest friends is love-- so why are we all so hesitant to express it? Why is there nearly a taboo against us telling the people that we love just that. I know I've only felt comfortable telling friends I love them they are very close, or if someone has died recently. When my friend Steve died two summers ago, I was hit by the fact that he mattered so much to so many people-- and so few of us, myself included, had actually let him know that. Even now, now that I've had peers die sudden unexpected deaths, now that I know I should let people know I love them-- I only tell a few people that I do.

I'd like to show my friends that I appreciate them, that I do love them-- or at least, show the ones that I feel deeper friendship than average. But outside the context of college and sororities and not being fully aware of social boundaries-- I just don't know how to, anymore, without feeling awkward.

Do you tell the people you love-- besides partners, parents, and siblings-- that you love? When do you tell them? How do you tell?

Committment

I have been accused, at different times, of being a commitment phobe, and of being very into commitment. Neither is exactly true, but both have a ton of truth to them.

I hate the idea of commitment for the sake of commitment, of being in a "relationship" so you won't be single. I hate the idea that being single is something to dread. But, I love being in a committed relationship. I love my boyfriend, and knowing we're faithful to each other brings me... joy, really.

I've had people think my casual attitude towards people having sex outside of relationships means that I don't value commitment. I think that instead, its a sign of how much I do value commitment. I definitely don't look down on friends who sleep around or engage in "slutty" behavior, because I don't think that sex, in itself, deserves to be put on the pedestal that society puts it on. I think that as long as people are being safe and consenting, what they do with their bodies shouldn't be the concern of anyone who isn't involved. If people want to have sex to express their love, to feel good about themselves, to have fun, or because they're bored, I really don't care. I know that sex can influence emotions-- oxytocin, anyone? But I think that, as long as we know the happiness of the afterglow is at least partly chemically derived, we should be able to keep from putting too much value on it.

Putting so much importance on sex and having it only inside a committed relationship makes me wonder if some people rush into relationships only so that they'll feel less shamed about the sex they're having. If, instead of basing their commitment on the idea that they're a person they respect and enjoy and appreciate and care about, they base their commitment on the idea that this is their best balance for regular sex and fun right now. Part of why I wonder this is because of the length of relationships I see-- and the length of the time they date before they commit. I know a lot of people who have had a "committed relationship" that has only lasted a few weeks, or a few months. It also seems like a lot of people don't really date very long before labelling themselves as "in a relationship"-- a few times hooking up, and bam, they either stop seeing each other, or make it official-- or, equally often, continue discretely and secretly hooking up. Secret hook-ups do make sense to me, though, as long as the gossip and awkwardness of friend groups is the concern-- but it sometimes seems that the sex itself is the reason people hide.

I'm not a fan of hiding. I'm also not a fan of rushing into things. What I am a fan of is knowing someone well before you commit to them, of being sure you want them, and not just the sex. Of figuring out what their big flaws are, and whether they're overpowered by everything else. I'm a fan of being patient, and cautious, and sure. How can you trust someone, if the only time you spend together is in bed?

To me, being in love and being in a committed relationship is one of the greatest things in the world. I absolutely adore JD, and I know that I don't want anyone but him, in any way. He's my best friend, my confidant, my partner. Sometime to love, play with, support, and trust. As fun as it can be to be single and dating, I wouldn't have that life for anything now. Nothing makes me happier than seeing him smile at me hearing his voice. And because I didn't rush into this relationship-- because we were involved for months before committing-- I can be certain my choice is based on who we are, and not based on the opinions of anyone else.

Sex Advice Columns, and the Altar of the Orgasm

There is no right way to have sex. The only wrong way to have sex is when there is a lack of consent or capacity to consent. And there is no right way to conclude sex, either. No result which must be present. No script which must be followed. No specific actions necessary.

Which is why I get so incredibly upset at the advice some sex columns give. I know I've read similarly dismissive, condescending, or just plain off-topic columns from other writers before, but the latest in the mother/daughter Susie and Aretha Bright series over at Jezebel has set me off afresh. In part because, as some commenters pointed out, they don't really seem to pay attention to the attitude of the writers, or give advice that addresses the actual question.

But mainly, its because their response to a woman who is having anorgasmic sex and who wants to know how to go about telling her partner she's been faking it is that she is mistaken about her own enjoyment of the sex. That's right-- these two women (or one girl and one woman-- I have a hard time considering a dependant 19 year old in college to really be a "Woman" since it implies a certain attitude and responsibility, not just a certain age) think they know more about her experiences of sex than she does herself. Based on one letter. From a woman they've never met.

I'm sorry, but what?

Aretha questions why the letter, and so many others, begin with the author saying she has " great, wonderful, passionate sex!" My guess would be that the author of the letter wants to make sure the columnists know that the sex itself isn't the problem-- she doesn't ask a direct question, but its clear from her letter that her concern is that the lying is undermining the relationship.

Instead, Susie Bright takes another angle, and talks about the woman's lack of orgasms during sex:

"You think you're going to be happy this way for the rest of your life? No. You've been rationalizing and trying to "make do.""

Um, what? Look, its great to consider other possible issues that could be affecting the relationship-- and if they addressed that she might possibly be unhappy not having orgasms during sex, that would be one thing. But they didn't. Susie Bright made a blanket statement that essentially says that, because this woman isn't coming, she cannot stay happy with her sex life.

One of my big pet peeves is people worshipping at the altar of the almighty orgasms. It's up there with people who think straight sex is the only right sex, or that anal is the only right sex, or that oral always has to be tit-for-tat, or that everyone should give polyamory a try or that no one should give polyamory a try. Wait a minute... those all have a common theme. Oh! I get it! I don't like when people talk about sex in absolutes, and say that one certain method/outcome/style of sex is the right way to have sex! And it seems pretty damn clear that Susie Bright is advocating that the right way to have sex, is sex that has an orgasm in it.

There's a problem in that. There's.... actually, a pretty big problem in that. Not all people are capable of orgasm. What was that? Not everyone can come? But surely that just means that the partner is doing it wrong, or they're too tense, or they aren't kinky enough, or the need more sleep, or--

No.

Not everyone can come. Even when people can come, some people can only come from specific types of physical stimulations-- a vibrator, for example. Or some people can only come after a specific amount of time-- a half hour of focused stimulation, maybe. And for some people, even though orgasms are enjoyable, the effort that it takes to get there makes the enjoyment not worth the annoyance. There are plenty of people out there who find sex to be totally enjoyable without orgasm-- female and male, though its more common for a woman not to be able to come than it is a man-- something to do with the way our anatomy is arranged, I'd wager.

I absolutely hate when sex columnists tell their readers, essentially, that something is wrong with them-- and over something they can't really control, or don't want to change. Especially over something that is causing harm to no one, and something they might not have been troubled with before. If you have an enjoyable sex life, you shouldn't be ripped down because its missing some element that someone else finds essential for their sex life. You shouldn't be sending your readers the message that they, or their relationships, are defective-- they've probably gotten that from partners in the past. No matter how open you are, you should remember that this is a touchy area, and come at it with an attitude of openness, compassion, and a desire to really address the questions your reader asks, rather than giving them a lecture on something tangential.

The substance may be different, but the spirit seems the same as moralistic lectures that ask if if she really thinks she's going to be happy continuing to have sinful premarital sex.

If we wouldn't accept one from a sex columnist, why do we accept the other?

(((Some people might respond by asking if I think I could do better, or what I think they should have said, but I'd like to point out that my own abilities as a giver of sexual advice are completely irrelevant-- as someone who has only taken two courses on human sexuality (though I'm super excited about my sex and the law class this fall!), and someone who is only 24, I don't really think I'm qualified to give sex advice to stranger. But these women-- one of whom is 19 I remind you-- are holding themselves out as qualified. And yet, they come up terribly, terribly lacking.)))

[Edit-- the link to the column I'm discussing is here. I intended to link to it originally, but when I was making my edits Jezebel wasn't loading for me, one of my recurring problems. I figured it wasn't a big deal, since I normally have around 10 readers, most of whom I'd discussed the column with earlier in the day. I certainley had not expected to recieve a link from Susie Bright herself! a follow up post will be coming, addressing some of the responses to this post. Aug 9, 2009]

ghosts of Valentine's past

When I was a junior in college and Valentine's Day hit, I was single and with no real prospects. Barbie-- one of my best friends and roommates-- was also single.

It would have been very easy for the two of us to stay in, watch chick flicks in the sorority house, and eat a ridiculous amount of chocolate while feeling sorry for ourselves.

It would also have been incredibly lame.

And besides, we didn't feel sorry for ourselves. We were single, but we were also both happy-- dating people casually, but without any dude in the picture who we were into committing to. And so, we we decided to go out on the most coupley themed day of the year to one of the most romantic places within walking distance-- a wine bar.

It was awesome. Dark lighting, tons of couples happily cozying up to each other, and Barbie and I splitting the cheese, fruit, and wine plate all washed down with red wine. It felt so classy to me then-- and we had also both just turned 21, so we were feeling grown up and cool for legally drinking at a nice bar. We gossiped and giggled and watched the couples there, and we were both so happy to see how in love they all looked. I have no clue if any of those couples actually were happy, but imagining the stories of their lives gave me such a quiet pleasure-- and even though I was, at that time, super happy being single-- I was excited by thinking of the possibilities of a real, "grown-up" relationship with a deep level of understanding, passion, affection, loyalty, and care.

But I was also happy, because though I wasn't in a romantic relationship at the point, I was getting to celebrate the holiday with someone I loved, I lived in a sorority house full of women I had come to love, and I was growing to understand who I was and begin to love myself.

It was celebratory, but it was also thoughtful. It was a fantastically fun night. And it was just what I needed that Valentine's Day to be.

Self Esteem

Self-esteem is a tricky thing. I generally think I have pretty good self-esteem-- I'm reasonably intelligent, reasonably attractive, generally kind, very well read, and curious about the world. I like to think I'm turning into a competent adult-- I keep my apartment relatively clean, make myself healthy meals at least half the time, and actually get up for work even though I set my own hours.

But money... oh, money pulls me down. Not that I don't have a lot-- I'm in law school, no one in law school is anything but poor-- but that what little money I do have, I'm terrible at managing. Looking at my finances today, I discovered that I am once again broke as broke can be. And honestly, there is no reason for me to be this broke. Its purely a case of mismanaging my funds, of not keeping track of my spending, or being irresponsible.

And that? makes me feel like a child. A terrible, worthless, irredeemable child. Consciously, I know that feeling this way is silly, that I will (eventually, at least!) resolve my financial issues, and that once my loan checks come in in-- what? A little over a month? I will be financially clear until at least the end of next school year. But for now? Even if this problem is fixable with time and, in the grand scheme of things, not very significant-- it is sending me into myself in questioning and doubt and sadness. I'm angry at myself, annoyed at myself, and almost worst of all not even that surprised at myself.

This kind of proof of irresponsibility is damaging, at least short term, to my self esteem. Because despite all the traits I listed up above, and while my self esteem is surely influenced by my looks and accomplishments and intelligence, whatever they all may be-- its most largely based on whether or not I feel I am a competent person. Whether I am able to handle the everyday tasks that everyone has to face. And when I mess up on things that are so everyday, so basic, so necessary-- well, that's a much larger blow to myself esteem than a series of unflattering photos or a bad score on a test could ever be.

What’s a girl in a happy relationship want without marriage, anyway?

Today's post is, again, a guest blog from a friend. After reading Jenny's post, Melt wanted a chance to put forth some representation from the non-marrying side of things. Melt is living in the middle of cornfields, raising two adorable kittens, getting her PhD and trying to figure out how to get people to use condoms and not spread STDs. She kickboxes and does yoga, is learning to cook, and always has something to fun--and intelligent-- to say.

It’s always interesting to me when I read well-thought-through defenses of young marriage. I genuinely loved and enjoyed reading Jenny’s recent guest post on this blog. I thought it made sense, I thought it was eloquent and heartwarming, and I wish her all the happiness in the world.

But I must admit, part of why I appreciate reading well-reasoned defenses of young marriage is because I am so frequently enraged by the all-too-ubiquitous insulting and offensive defenses. As a 21-year old woman who has been dating her 24-year old (25 in 1 month!) boyfriend for two and a half years, our commitment has been questioned time and time again. “If you’re really meant to be together, wouldn’t you know by now? And if you know you want to be together forever…what’s the point in putting off marriage? Don’t you think that your hesitation about marriage should tell you something about how you really feel about your relationship?” “Don’t you think you’re being a bit selfish moving across the country and leaving your boyfriend just because you feel like staying in school?” “I mean, we all have different priorities…I guess you’re just putting yourself before your relationship, and I mean, that’s OKAYYYY, it’s just, you know, I guess I’ve just already reached a point of maturity where I can’t be that selfish anymore.” Well, you know what? I agree with Jenny: Maybe go fuck yourself.

The fact of the matter is that marriage simply doesn’t make sense for my relationship right now. I’m in my first year of graduate school, trying to live on my $16,000/year stipend without taking out any loans (and so far I’m succeeding, miraculously!) My graduate program has me living in central Illinois for the next 5-6 years. It’s a horrible economy, with people all over the country unable to find jobs, and my boyfriend was offered a full-time job in North Carolina. I’m finally learning how to live on my own – to cook for myself, clean for myself, make Excel spreadsheets to do my own budgeting, and then make the appropriate budgetary sacrifices to make ends meet and pay my own rent, utilities, cable bills, grocery bills, and other miscellaneous expenses each month. I’m trying to become financially independent. I’m trying to make it on my own. I’m trying to prove to myself that I can take care of my own life. I’m trying to make sure that no matter what happens in our relationship, in my future, I know I can make it on my own and be self-reliant. This simply isn’t the time in my life when I want to be living my life for another person. I need to be selfish. I need to strike out on my own and build my own life before I can feel comfortable enough to share it with another person.

And then there are the other things. I don’t feel comfortable being the one responsible for making major health decisions should any “worst case scenarios” happen. If I end up a vegetable tomorrow (morbid, but something to consider), I’d still want my parents to be the one making the major decisions, not my boyfriend. And vice versa – I’d want his parents to be the one making the decisions for him. Two and a half years is plenty of time for some people, but it simply isn’t for us – and that’s OK. Someone told me a few months ago that once a couple is out of college, if they don’t get engaged after two years something is wrong and they’re wasting their time. Whaaaaaat? Since when is there an objective timeline on major life decisions? I don’t see anyone going around saying, “Once you’re out of college, if you don’t get a pet within a year, you’re cold and unnurturing” or “You have exactly 6 months after you graduate from college to move out of your parents’ home, or else you’re not independent and you’re a failure.” No one would tolerate that. Why do they tolerate objective standards when it comes to marriage?

For me, I will consider it the “right time” for us to get married when I know I don’t need it – when I know that I don’t need his financial support, I don’t need his amazing cooking abilities, I don’t need him managing the finances, I don’t need him to make me feel whole. Maybe this makes me utterly unromantic, but I don’t ever want to feel like I need my spouse to complete me. I want us to get married when I know the only reason I want him in my life is that – pure, unadulterated want. Not need, want. That hasn’t happened yet. I caught myself at one point desperately wanting him to move out here mostly so my rent could halve, because my finances were really tight. I decided to get a roommate instead. I wanted something to cuddle at night; I got two cats. I freaked out when I first moved out here because I didn’t know how to cook and I didn’t know what I’d do without him cooking me dinner every night; I bought every cookbook I could find with the words “Quick,” “Easy,” or “Weeknight” in the title. I’m slowly but surely working my way towards not needing him – and when I reach that point, that’s when I’ll feel comfortable marrying him.

Maybe intelligent, considerate people like Jenny don’t understand why I’m upset. But I’m not upset because people like Jenny love their partners and want to get married before I do. To that I say – Mazel Tov and L’Chaim! I’m upset because of comments like this, which I saw on someone’s Tumblr: "I got married when I was 22 too. I’m 24 now, own several businesses and let me just say that there are people my age that are still trying to figure out how to not show up to work drunk and/or hungover. I think that you and I are in the very small percentage of people under 25 that decided to skip the whole drama + blowing all your money on drinking and parties thing."

Really? Condescension much? Yes, I drink and I get hangovers – so do plenty of married people. And yes, I did admit that I don’t think I’m ready to get married. But when did we decide to equate “marriage readiness” with “overall maturity”? I’m living on my own, working towards financial independence, living on a $16,000/year budget, tracking my expenses, working my ASS off to further my postgraduate education, and caring for two cats. I know married people who lie to their spouses, can’t manage their finances, bury themselves in debt, and have no idea how to care for themselves because they went from being completely dependent on their parents to being completely dependent on their spouses. But no, you’re right, condescending married people – you have a marriage license, which TOTALLY makes you more mature and adult than me, because I’m unmarried and still in school. My mistake.

What it comes down to is that I agree with Jenny’s point of view, and I support her, and I understand her pain. And like I said earlier, I wish her all the luck in the world. This entry is not about her. But I simply wish to show the other side, and maybe explain to her that part of the anger against her might be due (at least in part) to the many other young married people who are not doing her cause any favors.

passive/active language

Passive and active language, male vs female, i screwed her, she screwed me, i screwed him, he screwed me.

I remember a conversation I had one time, though I can't remember who I was talking to, where we discussed how men and women refer to each other in a sexual sense-- who takes the active role, who takes the passive. Whoever I was talking to insisted that men say they screw/fuck women, and women say they got screwed/fucked-- a very gendered way of using expression. That might be true for most people-- I don't know. But most people I know, men or women, tend to take the dominant role-- with some exceptions for individual experiences. I think this might be because the people I talk sex with tend to be highly educated and very liberal. We've all grown up in the culture that portrays men as dominant and women as submissive-- but for some reason, with the people I know, that doesn't seem to carry over into our sex lives, and the way we talk about it.

Of course, I don't actually know what happens in anyone else's bedroom. It could be that everyone I know acts out gender roles the way society teaches us-- but regardless of that, they don't talk about it that way. And that is enough to be interesting on its own. It says that, no matter what is actually happening, they want to be seen as being in control of their sexuality. I think this is a positive thing-- I think it's good to see people taking hold of their sexuality without shame.

Maybe the more open conversation about exploits will lead to a more open attitude about sex in general-- a more positive attitude, one with more gender equality. Or maybe it won't, I don't know-- I'm just a law student. But at least the lack of shame makes for more interesting conversations.

What’s a Modern Girl Want with Marriage, Anyway?

Today's entry is a bit unusual-- I didn't write it. Instead, this is courtesy of my friend Jenny, one of my favorite people in the world. Jenny is 25, and spends her days working on her PhD while trying to solve the mysteries of prostate cancer. She has a golden retriever named after Bruce Wayne, she's one of the most well-read people I know, she has an amazing assortment of heels, she's a kick-ass rock-climber, she makes delicious cupcakes, and she's a huge nerd.

She also just bought her wedding dress.

Like everything else in life, it turns out lots of people have opinions they feel the need to share with you, if you’re a 25 year old woman getting married. Are you knocked up, they say. Why not just live together, they say. Isn’t it selfish of you to get married when not everyone can?

It takes all the (limited) patience I have not to hit them with my favorite quote from The Departed: Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go fuck yourself. But to be a little more civil, I’ve broken it down with my friend Amanda, who’s kindly let me work out my mental twists and turns in this guest post.

1) Why get married? Because I want to. In an ideal world, this would be the only reason that mattered. I’ve dated my fiancé for a little over a year, and we’re both ready to get married. For various personal reasons, we don’t want to live together before we’re married, so we’re looking forward to not only starting our lives together but also sharing a home with our dog for the first time. I think it’s safe to say that not being married has complicated our lives far more than being married will. I am certain that I will be staying with my fiancé for the rest of our lives. And no, I do not want to wait five years, or ten years, or thirty-five years, or however long it will take until some anonymous commenter on the lives of others feels we’re
“ready.” We’re ready now. We’ve talked about it thoroughly, and we’re clear on what marriage will and will not be changing about our relationship. We’ll live in the same place. I’ll be changing my name (and no, I will not be taking opinions on that topic). Aside from that: not much. A friend recently told me that her mother’s philosophy is that if you’re not married before the wedding, you won’t be married after it. The actual ceremony and certificate won’t be changing things for us. I’m not insecure or trying to prove anything. I just want our relationship to be as official as it can be, for my own emotional reasons. In other words: Why would we NOT get married? There’s nothing holding us back. I’m in graduate school, but I don’t need to be single in order to finish. I’m 25, he’s 24. We’ve both dated plenty of people and had enough experience to know when the right person came along. Additionally, I don’t find much credibility in the theory that “it’s much more meaningful to not get married, because then every day you spend together is a choice.” Every day you spend with someone, in or out of marriage, is a choice. Disentangling yourself from any long term relationship, married or not, is going to be difficult. I, personally, find it much more meaningful to get married. Why? I’ve never married anyone before. It’s the most special thing I can think of to demonstrate how important my fiancé is to me.

2) Why get married? Because it will simplify things for my fiancé and I. I mentioned this before, but not sharing a house while we share a dog is a giant pain in the butt. More than that, having the rights that come easily with marriage but are so hard to get otherwise will be a big bonus. I don’t have to worry about not being able to see him in the hospital. He won’t have to fight my dad for our dog if I die suddenly. (My dad really loves our dog.) When we buy a house together, our loan process will be more streamlined than if we were just living together. In the event of one of our sudden illnesses, end of life decisions and similar medical consultations will take place by default with the other person. Although you can certainly file paperwork empowering your partner to make these decisions, hospitals may choose to recognize these or not. In the event of one of our deaths, our estate will revert to the other one, not to our parents. If one of us chooses to stay at home with the children, and the supporting spouse dies, the widow/er has the option to bring a wrongful death suit and get money to represent the lost earnings.

3) Why get married? Because it will make things easier for our future family. This is a short point, but a good one—our children will be default have both our names on their birth certificates. We’ll both be empowered to pick them up from school, sign off on things, etc., and while that’s not something that’s limited to married parents, it will make dealing with school administrators easier. Again, in the event of one of our deaths, custody of the children will revert to the surviving spouse, not our families.

4) Why get married? Because I believe that everyone should have the option. Not getting married as a stance on gay rights only really works if you’re a high-profile celebrity. Otherwise, you’re protesting others’ lack of civil rights, but not exercising your own. That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. It’s like saying all people should have the right to vote, but then not voting yourself. It’s my firm opinion, having been raised in the Bible Belt, that marriage will never be changed from the outside. It will take the dedicated work of married, straight supporters of gay rights to start to change the mainstream attitude about marriage. I also know that the kind of people who believe in the defense of marriage see not getting married as a cop out. By getting married, I am strengthening my own voice in this debate, making it carry more weight where it counts.

Plus, I love my fiancé and I can’t wait to get married to him.

Privacy

In my first class of Sexuality and the Law, we (surprisingly, maybe) didn't talk a whole lot about sexuality itself, or the law as it applies to sex-- instead, we discussed one of the foundations behind a lot of law that intersects with sex-- privacy!

Privacy is actually a pretty interesting idea to discuss, in a legal sense-- in today's world, there's the idea that we have a right to privacy, a right "to be left alone", as Justice Brandeis put it. The question is, where is this right coming from? In Con law, we discussed privacy in a few contexts, but the one my biased mind remembered was Roe v. Wade, and the whole penumbra of privacy concept-- though the penumbra was also discussed in the earlier Griswold v. Connecticut case (about birth control for married folks!). On the privacy penumbra viewpoint is... messy. The idea that we MUST have a right to privacy, because without it we can't actually enjoy the enumerated constitutional rights-- especially the ones granted in the first amendment.

My first class made the whole privacy notion a lot more clear. We discussed cases dealing with sending kids to private school and wiretapping, and an old law review article by Brandeis, as well as the evolution of privacy from an interpretation of tort law to a constitutional right.

I could keep chatting and regurgitating and talking about the idea of privacy as a legal right-- the right to be let alone-- on the same level as freedom of speech and freedom of religion, but instead I'd rather think about the implications of privacy-- why we value it, and how we used to value it, and how it's changed. Why isn't there a right to privacy in the constitution? Did people just... not care? Did they think it was a given? Or did the think it shouldn't be a right? What seems essentially human to think about it?

Views on privacy seems especially complicated in the digital age, because we have sites like Facebook and Myspace where people post all sorts of seemingly-private information-- but I don't think that means that they don't value privacy. Rather, it seems that they do value privacy, but use these sites to control their public image-- while still have a ridiculous expectation that these sites will remain private to parents, employers, and others in positions of authority. At the same time, people de-tag pictures of themselves, only put up photos they feel comfortable with, and don't share a lot of their private feelings and actions. The difference here is more a level of privacy between old and young, I think, rather than an idea that privacy itself is no longer relevant.

Take gossip and scandals, for example. They aren't interesting just because they're about friends or public figures-- they're interesting because they dip into privacy, and reveal hidden contours of a person, or events that are normally not shared. Or diaries-- the more public a diary is, the less it is likely to discuss emotions in ways where the settings and participants are identifiable-- and when they do, feelings get hurt and relationships get strained. If there was no expectation of privacy, the child or parent whose faults are exposed in a memoir would have no reason to be hurt, yet that hurt happens all the time.

So, privacy seems linked to both an expectation of trust in others, a sense of safety and security, and a concern for how others will judge us. I think privacy is an inherent value-- we feel the need to keep things to ourselves, even if our reason tells us that we don't need to, and that thinking that way is silly. I take myself as an example-- I try to keep away from really identifiable interactions with others on this blog, because A. I feel that talking about it would violate their privacy, their ability to be in control of their public image, and their trust in me, and B. I feel a strange sense of... ickyness, in sharing such details of my own life with the world.

Not everyone is this way-- Heather Armstrong crosses typical boundaries of privacy in a revealing and extremely popular blog that talks about her life as a mother, blogger, woman, and wife. She's wildly popular-- in large part because of the depth of sharing she does. People can relate, and they like the in depth scenes of life they get, the descriptions of "private" family moments, the stories about emotions, childbirth, and her battles with mental illness-- but she's a rare woman with skin of steel, who gets hate mail in good proportion with her popularity.

Privacy feels like a right, whether it is legally or not. People cry "Big Brother" when online movements get monitored, or when grocery stores send coupon suggestions based on purchase history. We don't live in a communal, open society-- we have inner selves, and live in small family units, and the details we share with others seem to get larger and deeper as emotional connections get closer and closer. And at the core of it all, we want to keep something to ourselves-- some secrets, something private that belongs to us, and us only-- it seems like privacy is part of what makes us who we are, distinguishable spirits in the mass communications of humanity.

Helplessness

JD has been ill today. Not horribly ill, but ill nonetheless and there's been very little I can do to be helpful, besides refilling his water glass. I've realized, over time, that an important part of my personality-- to me, at least-- is being a care-taker. Yes, I whine and moan when I'm sick, and I need other people to help me in many ways, but I enjoy being able to take care of people and help them out.

I loved teaching kids in college. I enjoyed volunteering. I love cooking for my friends, baking and distributing tasty things, doing (some) favors, cooking dinner for my boyfriend, making my mom tea, and listening to friends' problems.

But man, trying to help someone when there's very little you can do, and you don't think any of your actions can help them is scary. Even if you know they're going to be ok! JD is sitting next to me reading right now, and I still wish I could make him tea or a sandwich or something and magically make him all better-- but I can't, he's doing what he needs to do to get better, and there is no way in which I can accelerate the process. Not even by repeatedly asking him if there isn't anything else I can give them.

I do feel helpless over my own problems sometimes, particularly the ones involved in being "adult" but there's always some plan of action I can follow: make a budget, make a list of cities, rank things that are important to me, just start applying to jobs.

In this case, there is literally nothing I can do. It's a strange realization for me-- and made me have a bit more empathy over the way my mom has sometimes overly worried at me. It's hard usually being able to find some way to fix a situation-- and then, realizing some situations, you just can't fix.

Pron

I spent part of the day yesterday hovering in the comments on a Jezebel.com article on porn, reading about how some women view porn and the problems they have with it. The prevailing viewpoint was that porn is harmful, in that it alters the way men view and interact with women-- not in that they expect women to look like porn stars, but in that they expect them to have sex like a porn star, or that watching porn somehow leads to a lack of respect for women in general.

I disagree.

When men lack respect for women, or treat women badly in bed, it isn't the fault of the porn-- it's the fault of the man. I'm not saying porn has no effect on men. I think it could expose them to a wider range of sexual activity, make them more tolerant of kinks, and yes, possibly even lead them to think some behaviors and attitudes are more common than they actually are. But when things go wrong, even if porn does have an influence, the problem is not the porn itself. It is the person, and how the person relates to their influences. People need to be able to treat all others as individuals-- and realize that you can't blame one influence for the result.

I think that porn, overall, can be a valuable thing-- it allows people to experience their kinks on their own, it enhances masturbation (which is valuable for those who can't get sex partners, as well as those in long distance relationships), and it allows them to have a sexual experience without a partner.

But so many people seem to think that watching porn is responsible for sexual attitudes. I'm not going to deny that it has some influence. But really, watching a video cannot be blamed for a romantic partner becoming less intimate with you, or treating you negatively, or.... some other issue.

It all comes down, as far as I'm concerned, to the lack of communication, and a lack of involvement. If your partner is asking for new things, or things you consider strange-- ask why! If your partner is treating you with less respect-- talk about it! It your partner seems unsatisfied with your sex life-- talk about it. I guarantee that adding a healthy does of communication will do more to fix relationships--and attitudes towards sexuality and women-- than eliminating porn would.

Valentine's Day

I. Love. Valentine's Day.

I Loooooooooove it.

Doesn't matter if I'm single or in a relationship, going out or staying in, surrounded by winter wonderland or early spring. I love Valentine's Day.

Not because of the gooey sappy chocolates and roses bit.

But because I love the idea of a holiday devoted to love!

Think about it, and think about me. I'm extremely predictable in that I think being loving is one of the most important qualities in people, and in that I think we all need to talk about love more-- and not just romantic love, though that is the focus of Valentine's, but all love-- love for our friends, for our parents-- for everyone that really does touch us. So if you had to think of a holiday I would love-- this is one of them.

Also, I'm such an emotional sap when it comes to celebrating romantic love-- especially when I have something I think is worth celebrating (which... well, I'm engaged, so it should be pretty obvious I'm absolutely thrilled with my relationship). But... I don't like the idea that some people seem to have-- that you appreciate your partner only on Valentine's day, and that that appreciation has to come in the form of diamonds, or chocolates, or a steak dinner. Those things can be fun, totally! I love steak and presents! Are there any meat eaters out there who don't love steak and presents? But I hate the idea that they're necessary. I think one of the things we all need to do is invest in our relationships and show love to our partners on a regular basis-- and part of the thing with Valentine's Day is, that when you're thinking about presents and plans, it can also get you thinking about how you interact on a daily basis-- how often you actually show your appreciation, and if you take each other for granted, and if you are really celebrating love in small fun ways.

Forcing you to think about love... how is that a bad thing? I get that some people get bitter about it, because they're single or in a bad relationship-- but it can help them to figure out what they want. And if it's because they're single? Being single is better than being in a bad relationship, and while most single people I know would love a relationship, they aren't necessary to be happy. Granted, I haven't had many Valentine's alone since I started dating-- but I've been heavily introspective about the times I've been single. And I've learned to love myself more through those times. If someone can put their annoyance with the marketing and the couples everywhere behind them, and just invest in love-- of whoever-- wouldn't that be awesome?

Speculation is for suckers

One of the interesting things I've noticed on the internet is that, whether you're talking about sex in your own blog, or in the comments of some other site, people seem to think that whenever you say something about sex, it means that your own sex lie is up for speculation, questioning, and insults.

I so, so, do not agree with this attitude. I'd love for people to be able to talk about sex and sexuality openly, with no shame on either side. But... that seems likes it's not going to happen. Whenever people disagree on issues of sexuality, someone always comes out and says that someone on the other side just needs to get laid, or find a better partner, or have some other kind of orgasm. People immediately jump to the most cutting insults they can think of-- reducing someone to simply being a failure at sex, and therefore putting their role as a sexual object above any other trait they have. Sex is important-- one of the top three things couples fight about-- but the sex life of someone you're not involved with has nothing to do with you. And it should never be used as a tool to shame someone.

Talking about sex, blogging about sex, does not give anyone a right to speculate on your sex life. People on the internet are not the same thing as people you meet in real life-- they don't have the same context, they don't have the same background information, and they don't know what's going on. It would be a great world if eventually everyone could talk openly about their sex lives-- but as long as some people use even the slightest bit of sex info as a weapon, than sex isn't really a safe topic on the Internet.

I love talking about sexual health and sexuality, and the range of human experiences. But even without discussing my own sex life, I've managed to get insulting comments as the reactions to my posts (Mostly on a link to my blog from another source-- that I'm NOT going to give traffic to because, while the author is someone I respect, her commentors in that case are very much not), comments that cross the line into people speculating on and judging my sex life. It's a dangerous, misogynistic world out there on the Internet.

The horrifying part of it is the number of comments that come from other women and from individuals who claim to be feminists and sex positive/ I expect it from the readers of trashy sites. But it's horrifying to see it on feminist sites from people who should know better.

Physical Affection

I read webcomics. I admit it. I'm a total nerd. Now go read today's Questionable Content, and then come back and read this.

When I was in college and high school, I was much, much more physically affectionate with my friends than I am now. And I miss it, I miss it a lot. Granted, I get pretty much all my cuddling, hand-holding, leaning-on needs met by JD, but I still miss how it seemed to amplify the closeness of friends.

I'm a tactile person, I guess. I enjoy the textures of soft clothing, the feel of those gritty exfoliating creams you use on your hands, walking in the sand on a dry, clean beach, and the springy feel of summer grass under your feet. With friends, I find myself wanting to touch them-- just touch their arm when speaking, link arms when walking, and lean on them when watching a movie. Likewise, when I felt uncomfortable with a person, I tried to maintain some element of space, touch them as little as possible, and tended to be very stiff. I guess my body language is just as clear and true as my red-faced, stuttering inability to lie.

When I was younger, though not even by that much, my girl friends were also very affectionate. In our first years of college, Barbie and I would walk around campus occasionally linking arms or even holding hands. One of our roommates junior year would occasionally have a girl friend spend the night, just for the cuddling and safety aspect (both girls also had boyfriends, I think). When watching movies,my friends and I would all sit close together, half draping on each other. We were comfortable with each other and with ourselves, and didn't really think there were any implications beyond just that we were friends and cared for each other.

Now-- now that we're all in our mid-to-late-twenties, there's less of that. Hugs on greeting and leaving still exist, but people seem more physically distant. I'm not sure why it stopped-- is it that it's impossible to be as close and open with your post-college friends? Is it that we're aging, and thinking more with our logic bits? Do we think it's inappropriate, and that we ought to be formal, and that others will reject us if we each out?

Actually-- do other people even care? Does anyone else miss the physical aspects that purely platonic relationships used to have, or is this something unique to me? I personally don't initiate much physical conduct with my friends because, for some reason, I have the perception it won't be well received. That it will be... weird. that people just value their own space too much.

Maybe they do. Maybe they don't. But we could all use more hugs. I just... don't want to weird anyone out by being the kiddo to initiate it.

SERIOUSLY????

Oh. Oh my. Oh man.

There are ways to make me angry-- and then there are ways to make me disgusted-- but this? I does both.

My friend Jenny led me to this link: When Getting Beaten By Your Husband is a Pre-Existing Condition. When I saw the title, I thought "well, obviously, it can't be serious, domestic abuse wouldn't count as a pre-existing condition, it's not a disease and its the result of someone else's actions.

But then I read the HuffPo article. And it is exactly what it sounds like. Not every insurance policy has being a victim of domestic abuse as a pre-existing condition-- but at least seven of them allow it. That is, if you are a woman (or a man) who has been abused by a man (or a woman) and you stay in a relationship with that person, it is allowed for you to be charged a higher rate as a result. The HuffPo article points out the obvious logic to it-- women with abusive partners are more likely to be abused again, and thus, need medical treatment; since they statistically cost more, charge them more. But... this is not as easy a situation as this would make it out to be.

Yes, being a victim of abuse is like having an illness-- you don't want it, and you can't escape it, even though you may try to treat it through medicines or self help. But it's also different. This is something the system could fix if we gave more resources to women (and men! but for ease, I'll stick with saying women) who are abused. This is a time when our tax dollars could go to a good cause-- helping women escape their situation, have a shelter until they find work, and have therapy so they don't go back.

This is affecting me especially strongly because it hits close to home. One of my close college friends has dealt with domestic abuse, and is currently in the process of leaving her abuser and forging out on her own-- and there is not a great wealth of social services available to help her with this; she's had to move back with her parents to make this possible, and she has a job that makes some money, which helps. But for many abused women, there are no parents willing to help, and there is no job to help support them-- and even if there had been, there is likely no savings they can access. Men who are physically violent are often controlling in other ways, which often includes control of finances-- either not letting a woman work at all, or having her paycheck direct-deposited into an account he controls.

Also, getting a woman who has been abused to admit to that abuse is hard-- so if its on the record, making that record hurt her is the last thing we need, if we want to help people-- and I know insurance companies are corporations, not charities, but I believe that even corporations should have some ethical guidelines.

I guess what I'm basically saying is-- abuse should not be treated as a pre-existing condition. Women who deal with abuse have to deal with mistreatment from their partner and the legal system. And now I find out the insurance system would like to make it even harder for these women to tell their stories-- which ultimately makes it harder to leave. Because that's the other shitty part of domestic abuse-- psychologically, most of these women can't leave their abuser, at least not on the first-- what, ten or more?-- tries. You may not understand it, but there is some serious mental stuff that goes on-- more than i can get into here-- and the system itself is failing women whenever it refuses to acknowledge that.

The Ring

After my friends found out I was engaged, they all said congratulations.

And then, most of the girls asked to see the ring. When I told them I was wearing a stand-in (my deceased great-aunt's) until the jewelers resized mine, they wanted descriptions, pictures, karat size, cut--- all the little details that I actually didn't notice, or even care about, when I got it because I was just so ridiculously happy to be engaged.

And I do love my ring. It's pretty! But what it looks like should be relevant to no-one except JD and myself. And it is pretty-- I like it, and I like that he picked it out, since I enjoy wearing something that reflects him. I also love wearing the ring because I like the symbolism of it-- I love that it is something that says I'm not single anymore and no one has any reason to hit on me. It's a sign that should forever free me of unwanted male attention (though I have been told that some guys will take it as a challenge).

And yes, I've thought before about ring style-- daydreamed about what I want. But at the end of the day, what matters isn't so much the aesthetics but the commitment it symbolizes. But the aesthetics seem predominant in the minds of others. And it feels weird to know that at least some people will be judging me/him/us on the size/shape/stone of it-- even though I know every judges everyone on pretty much everything, consciously or not.

There's a part of me that wishes there was some sort of culturally significant public symbol for men to wear to declare engagement. I've seen "mangagement" rings, and they're just-- kind of ick. Or at least not in JD's aesthetic as far as I can tell. And anything that is would probably be mistaken for a wedding ring-- which is another, separate symbol. But as it is, I'm the only on of the two of us who'll be wearing a symbol until our wedding. I know some people see the ring as unequal-- a negative status symbol that declares male ownership. But I think that that interpretation says more about the individuals involved and their view of male-female equality than it does about me. I wear a ring, but JD most certainly does not own me. We're equal partners, and we acknowledge that fact. Wearing a ring doesn't change that element, and doesn't reflect that a woman belongs to a man-- instead, it simply reflects that I've chosen him, and he's chosen me, and that we have chosen to be one.

And the ring, while just an object, is a public symbol of the love he has for me, and the love he gives to me. And I think that is an absolutely lovely thing.

Distance

JD has been back from New Hampshire for a week now. Gotta say, I'm totally pleased with this. I missed him a lot this summer-- even with him coming back every weekend, I missed him. A lot. it was almost ridiculous, and made me question my tough independent self-sufficient street cred. Buuut, then I realized the street cred never existed except in my own mind, so I got over over.

But distance was hard. I spent most of my summer evenings alone in my apartment, on line, in books, or watching TV. Most nights, I talked to him on aim while we did whatever in our own spaces. It was excellent talking to him every day, but its even more excellent talking to him in person every day, seeing his face, hearing his voice, and feeling his skin.

I have never missed anyone the way I missed him, especially over such short periods of time. Being with him enables me to be more completely me, totally myself. Calm, safe, happy-- and a bit of a spaz. I think we really bring out the best in each other. The distance was hard.

And it made me think more about distance in general-- distance in relationships, friendships, families. I will probably not ever have to be distant from JD for long periods of time, but I am physically distant from my family and many of my friends. It's hard to maintain close relationships from a distance-- easy to maintain them with my family, sure, but so much harder with friends. I miss my friends from college, but I'm bad at keeping in touch-- I don't reach out as much as I should, and I don't hear a lot from a lot of friends. Maybe they're just like me, bad at keeping in touch-- or maybe they don't care to keep in touch. You never know-- just as you never know even when you see them every day, whether people really like you, or whether its all just a matter of convenience. Distance makes it easy to cut out the people you don't like, and hard to keep in contact with the ones you do-- I talk to only one of my college friends on a daily basis. I try to send emails to the other ones, and occasionally IM the ones that are online, but I'm honestly just so lame about it all, that it doesn't surprise me when they don't respond.

In less than a year, I'll have physical distance from yet another group of friends. Hopefully this time I'll be a little better at staying in touch-- or hell, even get back in touch with college friends-- roommates and sorority sisters who I used to talk to constantly.

But still, the question lingers-- is it distance that makes maintaining the friendships hard, or am I simply a bad friend?

Sex and emotion

The comments on my post on strippers got me thinking, and I decided to tackle those thoughts here, rather than in the comments section. Specifically, I wanted to address what I think about sex and emotion.

I've studied sexuality in the context of psychology, sociology, and the law-- ok, the law part may not be all that relevant. But what I've studied has led me to believe that men and women as groups are more similar than different when it comes to sex, and that there is a ton of in group variety. Overall, it seems like having an emotional connection makes sex more enjoyable for people. There are a lot of reasons that might be the case-- an emotional connection might lead to greater trust, and thus both more communication and more ability to "let go". The emotional feelings themselves might enhance the sex, and the sex might be predefined as something with a good outcome. Plus, an emotional connection is often linked to a partner that someone has experience with-- as such, there's a good change the partner has a desire to make the other party enjoy the sex, more so than someone who is just out for him or herself on a one night stand.

That said, do I think an emotional connection is required for people to have an enjoyable sexual experience? No, not at all. Sex has obvious physically pleasurable points. And, while I talk about sex more with women than men, most of the people I know enjoy sex a lot even when they don't care about their partners at all. In addition, sex for fun and fun alone doesn't seem to harm their later relationships in any way-- if anything, it means they go into relationships with more knowledge about what they do and do not like, and more confidence in bed. It's a lot harder for people to find someone they can bond with emotionally than someone they have fun with in bed.

I don't really view sex AS sex as something special in and of itself-- but I do see the importance that sex has in many ways, and that it can be a positive or negative thing. It can have no physical results or get you pregnant or get you stds, it can be an expression of your desire, or it can be someone ripping all autonomy away from you, it can be shameful, or it can be empowering, it can have no emotional effect, or it can rip you up emotionally. A lot of how we respond to it is based in both maturity and the situations it occurs in. I think for a lot of people, negotiation who to have sex with, and how to have that sex, is an important part of coming to age.

So what do I think? Have the sex you want, however you want. As long as you aren't hurting anyone else, your sex life is just as valid as anyone else's. I don't care if you think sex belongs only in marriage, or if you think sex should happen between strangers who find each other attractive. Just don't violate anyone else's rights, coerce people into having sex, or take advantage of people who can't give meaningful consent. As long as you've got that part down-- everything else seems pretty equal.

Weight loss and self image

I debated whether or not to write about this, because I try not to write too much about myself, personally.  But... this isn't really compromising the privacy for my friends or JD or even too much of my deep inner feelings.  I was also hesitant to write about it because I know a LOT of people have weird relationships with weight, and I don't want to upset anyone who reads this blog, (which is like three people on a consistent basis, but whatever) and I'm a little ashamed of how I'm reacting to this, to be honest.  But hey.  I like to be honest, and this is a really commonly discussed topic in lady issue circles.

So... I've lost weight, since my wedding and moving.  Not a lot, but enough that my average weight range is now lower than the lowest end of my weight range has been for at least six years.  About ever other morning now, my weight ends up below 1X0 instead of above 1X0, and at the time of my wedding, it was averaging at about 1X7.  (Oh, and the reason for the Xs?  My actual weight isn't relevant to this post.  Insert whatever number for X that you want, I really don't care.)  I generally consider myself to be a person who is pretty accepting of all sizes, and pretty size-positive.  I'm not an outright fat activist, but I really do believe that health and appearance are often not related, and that if someone is fat, it's their own business and says nothing about their personality or even life habits.  Like most people, I know skinny people who eat shit and drink all the time, and heavier people who work out and eat healthy.

The thing that is weird here, is that the second morning in a row that the scale was under 1X0, (because the first morning it was I dismissed it as a total fluke) I got really, really happy.  And then really upset with myself for being happy.  Because my weight doesn't matter, and I'm pretty happy with the way I look, and the way I have looked the last few years.  Hell, before my wedding, I actually knew I couldn't lose weight, or my dress wouldn't fit.  But now, I'm just dropping weight, and I'm not trying.  The main thing is that I'm drinking less, because I'm studying for the bar instead of being depressed that I don't have a job.  I'm also possibly eating healthier, because summer means MOAR DELICIOUS FRUIT, and I really like fruit but really hate apples.  Seriously, they are the WORST.

I'm also drinking more tea and fidgeting a lot.  Because man, barbri is essential, but it is BORING so I drink my tea and I basically dance in my chair the days we do lectures at home, and hope no one notices that my legs are flailing around the days we do lectures in class.  But like... I don't get it.  I still eat peppermint mochas and danishes for breakfast whenever I am slow moving in the morning, and I still am a fairly lazy non exercising person, since I don't have a gym membership and our pool is um, not really meant for swimming in and also always full of people getting drunk.

And yet, my happy-with-myself self is... happy that I'm losing weight, even though there are really no physical signs of this.  I grew up being sort of terrified of getting fat, since my mom is heavier and was pretty vocal about her disappointment with her body, and that led to some internalization of body-fear.  Mix that with the fact that I'm about half a foot taller than most of my friends were growing up and that my shoulders and hips are wide, I always felt ridiculously huge and disproportional, even though as an adult I realize the only thing really disproportional about me is my ridiculously long waist.  Which means next to no shirts actually meet the waistline of my jeans.  Thanks, body!  Anyway, I remember trying on my mom's wedding dress when I was 14 or 16, and it wouldn't zip up past the start of my ribcage.  (given that it is over 40 years old though, I don't think I would have wanted to wear it anyway NO OFFENSE MOM) It all fed into a really self conscious and uncomfortable me back when I was a teen and just starting college.  I am also a lazy person who enjoys cheese, booze, and sweets, so um, yeah.  But as I became an adult and realized my body had settled into a shape I actually liked, I stopped worrying, and I stopped caring as much, and other than weighing myself about once a week, I really didn't care.

And now I'm weighing myself every day marveling at this, and thinking that I'm only 3 pounds away from the weight I was when I graduated highschool now, and wondering what is WRONG WITH ME THAT I EVEN CARE.  Part of me is all "Yes, losing weight!!!" and the other part of me is all "NO I want to keep my boobs and hips and butt!" and the dominant part of me is all "SHUT UP OR I WILL THROW OUT THE SCALE".

Losing weight is not automatically going to make me healthier, not if the most exercise I get is fidgeting.  And while I do eat a LOT more fruit than I had been doing in Boston, I feel like I am actually eating more food here, not less.  So what is going on?  I don't understand my own metabolism, and I don't completely understand my reaction to it, and I feel a little bit like a science project, and the part of me that wants pretty new dresses is all "yessss, keep losing weight, get us new sundresses yesssssss" while the part of me that likes budgeting is telling me that I spent too much on nailpolish and peppermint mochas (WHICH ARE A LEGITIMATE STUDY AID AND THEREFORE EXCUSEABLE), and now I'm thinking that my sad materialistic/capitalist side and my sad appearance conscious side are trying to band together against the normal me who hangs out in jeans and a different color of the same tank top every day, with a ripped ugly grey hooded shirt on top, no makeup, and air-dried hair.

Whatever.  I'm still going to keep my new nightly habit of drinking 1/3 of a mug of warmed heavy whipping cream while reading before bed.

Kyl and Beck say a lot of stupid stuff, huh?

Ugh.

So, we all know Planned Parenthood is under attack from so many angles, and that so many people are lying about them, some senators (Hi Jon Kyl!  How is something presented as fact on the senate floor NOT meant to be taken as fact?) and some talk show hosts making ridiculous hyperbole (Hi Glen Beck! Hookers, huh?  Really?  I mean, REALLY?)  (and yes, I am not linking to these things because, hi, I'm sick, and also, hi, Google is your friend, really.

I don't even know how to respond.

We all know, or should know, at this point, that any abortions that PP does are not federally funded already due to the Hyde Amendment.  We also know, or should know by now, that abortion is only ~3% of what PP does.

Look, guys.  I'm a married 26 year old lady.  I think it is probably not a secret that I am having sex.  And since I am unemployed, my husband and I can't really afford to have a kid right now.  So you know what we do to prevent that?  BIRTH CONTROL.  and you know where I am going to most likely be going to get my birth control when my prescription runs out, since I have no insurance?  PLANNED PARENTHOOD.  And you know where I will most likely get my pap and yearly check up, that will ensure that I will be able to provide my husband with joyous offspring, thereby demonstrating his virility to the world in a Republican-approved manner?  PLANNED PARENTHOOD.  And you know what else I could go to PP for if I did manage to get knocked up earlier than planned despite the birth control?  PRENATAL CARE.  That's right, guys.  PP will do all the SUPER EXPENSIVE prenatal checkups a woman should have at an affordable price!  And if I wanted to get pregnant and had trouble conceiving, you know what else they could do?  Tell me all kinds of medical stuff about how to up my chances of conception!  Because they actually do employs doctors and nurse practitioners who know about this stuff!  If we wanted a kid and got pregnant now, PP would actually be able to help us have a healthy baby and reduce the risk of miscarriage!  

WHY DO YOU HATE HEALTHY BABIES, PEOPLE WHO HATE PLANNED PARENTHOOD?  WHY DO YOU HATE REDUCING STDS AND CHECKING WOMEN FOR CANCER?  I CAN YELL JUST AS WELL AS YOU CAN!

Walgreens and CVS can't prescribe me my birth control (that enables us to have condomless sex the way most men like it, GOP!).  They can't give me a pap smear and help make sure I don't get cancer (Are they going to look up my vag in the stationary aisle?  The candy aisle?  No.  They DON'T DO THAT KIND OF STUFF).  They can sell me vitamins, but can they sample my blood and help me deal with gestational diabetes if I get it?  NO, THEY CAN'T.  The kids in pharmacy school who usually fill my prescriptions may well not even know of doctor's offices to refer me to if I need a specialist!

So, yeah, guys.  Planned Parenthood does provide abortions, and in my opinion, that's a super important thing that shouldn't be prevented.  But through their birth control services, they do a whole hell of a lot more to prevent abortion than the Right does, and through their many many services, they do a whole hell of a lot that benefits married men and women, whether the lady in the equation is a housewife or holds down a demanding career.

Oh, and for the dudes who want to sleep around while they're young and single?  WHERE DO YOU THINK THEY GET TESTED FOR STDS AFTER COLLEGE, HUH?

EDIT: Oh My God, Stephen Colbert.  I think I love you.  How did I not know about this clip until right now, 2:01 PM?