With A Cactus

Today I was trying to think of something important to write about but instead all I could think of my awesome new haircut.

Pretty girls with long hair!! Stop cutting that shit off!! Boys don’t wanna date girls with boys haircuts!! Sorry!!

[x]

A few weeks ago I cut my hair pretty short, not the shortest it’s ever been but the hairdresser used the electric shaver in the back, so pretty short. And in my search for inspiration images (and in all honesty the story of this haircut involves my last haircut, an amusing story about meeting the Yankee, and a hotel bathroom).

And by googling haircut you can find a lot of images that betray our collective opinion on women cutting their hair.

But as a lady I can tell you that hair is one of the most complained about topics I’ve ever found. I complain about it, all my friends complain about it, having a lot of hair kind of sucks. 

It gets hot, it gets heavy, it gets smelly and greasy. There is a reason why so many people cut it off. Most mothers, most dudes. And of course all sorts of other groups. It’s a pain in the rear.

I think that in a way it’s similar to our use of high heels as a mark of distinction among classes. The basic premise being that if you can get away with wearing spindly heels then you must be in such a position that you can afford to either not work on your feet all day and you can afford to take cabs everywhere. And since this is the look that the people with money are sporting then it is in vogue and enviable, so the people who can’t afford the look will imitate it to look more well off.

Basically we’re willing to handicap ourselves in order to look like we belong to a certain group. Sound familiar? How about “Beauty is pain”? And when you fall off your heels? “You’re so bad at being a woman.”

No dude, it’s my hair and it has nothing to do with you. If you want me to be obediently pouring all my energy into not tripping or getting tangled rather than changing the world then I don’t want you to be attracted to me. In fact I’m a bit disgusted by the idea. So cut your hair or grow it out, do what feels right to you, but don’t let anyone bully you. And don’t assume that just because all the gals in your school have long flowing Disney hair that it’s the default.

Being Happy is Productive

I had a teacher once who told us that when we had a lot of things to do and felt like going to class would just get in the way of accomplishing those other tasks we should put ‘go to class’ on our to-do lists.

I recently finished a job that took a lot out of me, and my following job wanted me to start the next day. And I said, ‘nope, I’m taking a week off, sorry.’

Schedule a little you-time.

Put ‘be happy’ on your to-do list.

Eating Disorders, Self Harm and The Nearness of You

In the play I’m working on right now there is a line about a table.

One character says I like this table.

The other says I grew up with this table.

And the first one says That’s why I like this table.

I like the things that make you… you. The house you grew up in made you you. The freaky fungus that makes your toenails look demonic. Your weird sleep disorder that makes you guzzle an inhuman amount of coffee each day makes you you. And I love you.

And your body, the body you sturm und drang against, it also makes you you. And I thank it every day for the gift it has given me; the nearness of you.

The capacity to have everything you think, everything you are all in one package that I can eat and travel and talk and cuddle with.

So you can thrash against your body all you want, but when you want to hurt it just remember how much I love it, if only for it’s ability to press our hearts so close together.

My Slut Kit

Or

How To Be A Single (or not) Lady in New York

In New York a lady has to be pretty economical about what she puts in her purse. Whatever is in my bag right now is going everywhere I go until I get home whether that be in an hour or in three days. And sometimes I don’t know which it’s going to be. And sometimes it can change at the drop of a hat.

Here is a list of things I keep in the front pocket of my bag at all times.

Protein bars. For giving to homeless people or just to avoid paying for food. These are surprisingly filling and come in a big box at Costco. If I’m really starving but don’t have time to eat they’re perfect.

Condoms. I think I grabbed some free ones at a bar a few months ago (decent Lifestyles ones, NOT the NYC ones). Carrying condoms is like getting STI tested every 6 months. It might be embarrassing to tell your mother (damn you slut-shaming patriarchy!) but it really just makes you a good citizen. What if your BFF meets the love of her life and he’s flying back to Ireland in the morning and neither of them are packin’? Have you ever had to buy condoms at a corner bodega after leaving a bar at 3am? Did you have to wander around looking for an ATM beforehand? No? Well then take it from me, just do yourself/someone else at the bar a favor and toss a pair of condoms in your purse (it’s safer than the one he keeps in his wallet). Also, your friend who keeps bragging about his awesome waterproof iPhone case? When he leaves it on the table to get up to pee wrap it in a rubber.

Tampons. I like the little finger-me-sallys which take up practically no space (P.S. is anyone else annoyed that there is only one brand of applicator-less tampons in the US?). Also, no applicator means no danger of this.

A pantyliner. If you start your period you’ll want it and if you sleep over at someones house and have to wear the same clothes to work the next day (yeah, you’re a professional grown up person just like me) you’ll feel a little less gross if you’ve got another layer between yourself and yesterday’s vaginal discharge.

A contact case full of solution. I started doing this when I started wearing contacts in high school.  Eyes get itchy?  Stay at rehearsal late?  Had a beer and feel tired?  Having an unexpected sleepover?  No problem.

And for bonus points

Neutrogena Makeup Remover Cleansing Towelettes. If you get these in bulk at Costco and they’ll come with two travel size versions to toss in your purse.

And to accompany that

Travel size mascara.  My best friend got me some samples of some great Clinique mascara that I toss in my purse if I’m going out after work.

That’s it.  You could probably even fit it all in your favorite Lisa Frank pencil case and transfer it from purse to purse

5 Things To Do In Public Because You’re Comfortable With Your Body And Don’t Care Who Knows It

Do you ever wonder how you can express to the world how comfortable you are with your body and your sexuality? Do you feel the need to walk into crowded restaurants talking very loudly about HYMENS so people choose your conversations to eavesdrop on?  Well then, do I have some tips for you!

1) Next time you have a UTI and you’re out to brunch with your lady friends SATC style (P.S. can we talk about how terrible The Carrie Diaries looks?  Kill me.) point to your crotch and sing THIS GIRL IS ON FIRE!

2) Next time you’re painting the fun house red (get it?) while seducing (you saucy minx!) a potential pants-remover, spend your second cocktail together thinking up some creative euphemisms for period sex.  Examples include:

• Driving the Blood Mobile to Schenectady
• Doing the Last Scene of Hamlet, With Genitals
• Salsa Dancing at the Y
• Menstrucourse
• Reenacting the Battle of Gettysburg — In My Pants
• Al Gore
• Pussy UFC
• Making Manicotti Marinara

Points for creativity.

3) Buy a Divacup and then explain how it works to everyone you know.

4) Ask your brother how many body parts he can think of that are only 2 letters long.  Guess who has a kick-ass os?!

5) Volunteer at Planned Parenthood and then awkwardly tell your friends about the female condoms you pick up there (follow that link.  You will not regret it!).

Well done everyone.  Now we can party with fellow jewess Sarah Silverman!

I Think There’s Something Wonderful In The Water

I’m a little glad to see the level of awesomeness in the general worldwide fight against assholery is on the rise.

On August 28, at least five months pregnant by a man who she said continued to rape her, Nevin Yildirim said she decided she had had enough. Gider was climbing up the back wall of her house. ‘I knew he was going to rape me again,’ she said at her preliminary hearing August 30.

She said she grabbed her father-in-law’s rifle that was hanging on the wall and she shot him. He tried to draw his gun and she fired again.

‘I chased him,’ she said. ‘He fell on the ground. He started cussing. I shot his sexual organ this time. He became quiet. I knew he was dead. I then cut his head off.’

Witnesses described Yildirim walking into the village square, carrying the man’s head by his hair, blood dripping on the ground.

‘Don’t talk behind my back, don’t play with my honor,’ Yildirim said to the men sitting in the coffee house on the square. ‘Here is the head of the man who played with my honor.’

She then threw Gider’s head to the ground.

Turkey, Sept 6, 2012 [x]

And in India:

At 3pm on August 13 2004, Akku Yadav was lynched by a mob of around 200 women from Kasturba Nagar. It took them 15 minutes to hack to death the man they say raped them with impunity for more than a decade. Chilli powder was thrown in his face and stones hurled. As he flailed and fought, one of his alleged victims hacked off his penis with a vegetable knife. A further 70 stab wounds were left on his body. The incident was made all the more extraordinary by its setting. Yadav was murdered not in the dark alleys of the slum, but on the shiny white marble floor of Nagpur district court.

Laughed at and abused by the police when they reported being raped by Yadav, the women took the law into their own hands. On the day of Yadav’s hearing, 200 women came to the court armed with vegetable knives and chilli powder. As he walked in, Yadav spotted one of the women he had raped. He called her a prostitute and threatened to repeat the crime against her. The police laughed. She took off her sandal and began to hit him, shouting, “We can’t both live on this Earth together. It’s you or me.”

It was a rallying cry to an incensed mob. Soon, he was being attacked on all sides. Knives were drawn and the two terrified officers guarding him ran away. Within 15 minutes, Yadav was dead on the courthouse floor. But his death has not brought the women peace. Five were immediately arrested, then released following a demonstration across the city. Now every woman living in the slum has claimed responsibility for the murder. They say no one person can take the blame: they have told the police to arrest them all.   [x]

You’ve Got A Girl At Home And That’s Not My Problem

TayTay’s position on this age old question seems to reside firmly on the I won’t do that to another lady side of the line but a few years ago a male friend of mine voiced a not-unreasonable alternative.

Your relationship is not my problem.

What a crazy notion.  Your relationship is not my problem, it’s your problem.  If you want to mess it up with me (or anybody else) then that’s your choice.  I’m not going to drag you away from some other lady but I’m also not going to police your penis.  You are a grown man with the ability to make choices and take responsibility for them.  You shouldn’t need me to help you stay in your relationship and if you do then it seems to me you’ve got other issues to deal with.

So while I’m on the bandwagon with sisterhood I’m also on the bandwagon with men taking responsibility for their own actions even when horny.  I don’t think that’s so unreasonable as I did back when I was in High School.

I Miss You Too

This morning on the train someone sat down across from me and he made me miss you.  His stupid spiky hair reminded me of that awful cut you got right before you left.  I smiled and told myself I would call you tonight, but then I forgot because he looked at me and I had to try very hard to look away and not be weird.

At work someone took my chair and I wanted nothing more than to sit in a hallway with you and cry over how invisible I feel all the time.  And then I remembered that last time we spoke you said you feel that way too and I told myself to call you tonight, but then I went back to work and I forgot.

Leaving work tonight someone hugged me and it reminded me of how your shoulder used to dig into my throat when you hugged me and it hurt but I didn’t want to let you go so I just ignored the pain and enjoyed your warmth and then told you after the hug was over so you would hug me again, gentler and slower this time.  I told myself to call you on the walk to the train but then I got a text message and forgot.

I watched the ending of The First Wives Club tonight on TV and the final scene where they sing reminded me of singing with you in the street and you being scared we’d get hit by a car but I told you I’m a New Yorker and we don’t get hit.  I meant to call you, but then I forgot.

When I feel alone I remember how often I think fondly of people without telling them.  And it makes me think that people think of me and then just forget to call me too.

Is Caitlin Moran A Bad Feminist?

I just read this quote and while I completely agree with it

A racist woman is not a feminist; she doesn’t care about helping women, just the women who look like her and can buy the same things she can. A transphobic woman is not a feminist; she is overly concerned with policing the bodies and expressions of others. A woman against reproductive rights — to use bell hook’s own example, and an issue close to your heart — is not a feminist; she prioritizes her dogma or her disgust over the bodies of others. An ableist woman is not a feminist; she holds some Platonic ideal of what a physically or mentally “whole” person should be and tries to force the world to fit inside it.

- An Open Letter to Caitlin Moran by Nyux (via redefiningbodyimage) [x]

I had the following thought.

The quote is out of context for me but I’m assuming that Nyux is someone who got excited about Moran’s book and then was disappointed when Moran’s perspective was skewed by white/cis/able/etc privileges she didn’t always recognize.

And this is a very valid argument.  Like I said, I wholeheartedly agree that a person can’t really be against one form of oppression without acknowledging that it’s no better or worse than any other.  However:

Just because writers write does not mean we have all the right answers.  Just because feminists are feminists (or humanists or whatever we identify as), doesn’t mean we’ve taken stock of all our privileges.  Recognizing all your privileges is a life-long journey.  And I don’t want to wait until I’m on my death bed to start writing.

I know that while I am a woman I enjoy the privileges that come with being white and able-bodied and middle-class and cisgendered and thin and surely dozens of other things which I take for granted on a daily basis.  I write because I want to learn.  I want to stop taking those privileges for granted and writing my thoughts helps me do that.  I’m not perfect.  Moran isn’t perfect.  We have privileges which make it easy for us to say stupid ignorant things.  I’m sorry.  Please point them out to me when I’m wrong but also please stand next to me when I’m right.  I’d rather be corrected than written off as a bad feminist.

When I started doing my solo show one of my good friends, Martha, said to me, she’s like, ‘Kamau, you can’t end racism and make sexism worse.’ And I was like, ‘What do you mean by that?’ And she went through my solo show and pointed out all the different parts of it that she felt were sexist. And that’s a good friend, a friend who will tell you that in a way that you can hear. And that was a real revelation for me is that you can’t sort of pick your issue over other people’s issue — that if you want to end the ignorance of something, you have to end all the ignorances or at least not make some of the ignorances worse.

- W. Kamau Bell on being called out on prejudices he didn’t realize he had [x]

Boys And Girls Of Every Age Wouldn’t You Like To See Something Strange?

This is Halloween.

And this is just a reminder that you don’t have to go naked if you don’t want to.  Sexy ____ isn’t the only option.  Clothing/cardboard/tin foil that actually covers the majority of your skin is an equally valid choice.

And also that if you want to slut that costume up you’re welcome to do so.  No one can tell you what to do or not do with your body.

Just remember that the amount of clothing you wear doesn’t reflect what kind of a person you are.

Tonight you can be a slutty bunny if you feel so inclined but you can also dress up like Barack Obama if you want.  Equally valid.  Equally valid.