In defense of the sanctimonious women's studies set || First feminist blog on the internet

The Vagina Warriors Are Gonna Getcha

I just don’t understand the right-wing obsession with The Vagina Monologues. So they talk about vaginas. They raise money to combat violence against women and girls. They don’t say, “The best way to live is to wait until your married, then close your eyes and think of England.” Conservatives would be better off attacking Avenue Q.

And yet they just can’t stop. Karin Agness, president of the Network of Enlightened Women at UVA (who I suspect is pissed off because her vagina never taught her how to write effectively) is example A:

While most people were celebrating or searching for love on Valentine’s Day, groups of women throughout the country decided to forego this lovely holiday to talk about their vaginas.

Because you either get vaginas or love, not both. And they never, ever have anything to do with eachother.

Women have the choice to do this. I am thankful for that choice. But this choice to participate in The Vagina Monologues is the latest manifestation of feminism gone wrong in America.

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Happy Valentine’s Day

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Me on Valentine’s Day.

I’ve never been able to get worked up enough about Valentine’s day to care if I don’t have a date, and it’s a Hallmark holiday, it doesn’t reflect what love really is, and blah blah blah. But I still like it. It’s fun to have one day a year when, if you’re with someone, you can do something that you’ll both remember, simply by virtue of it falling on this one day.

Throughout most of college, I spent Valentine’s day with Sumeet (college boyfriend, now best friend). Sophomore year we went to dinner at SushiSamba, my favorite Japanese fusion restaurant in the city, and junior year we wet to the Picasso/Matisse exhibit at MoMA in Queens. But last year was the best, even though all our plans went to hell. I was working as an editor at NYU’s daily paper, and was used to being at the office until 2am every night of the week. Because it was Valentine’s day, I had asked one of my dateless deputy editors to cover for me so that I could go out. Which worked out, until her boyfriend came in for a surprise visit and I was stuck having to finish out the night. We had plans to go to the NYU production of The Vagina Monologues, so I tried to get my work done early, without success. I went to the play anyway, but got a call from the editor-in-chief during intermission and had to go back. Sumeet came with me, and hung around the newspaper office for hours while I finished my work — and continued to be patient and nice even after I was cranky and mean about our night being ruined. We had dinner plans after the play, but as the hours went by it became clear that we weren’t going to make it to any restaurants before closing. Finally, at almost 11pm, my work was almost done, and he called every restaurant he could think of asking if they’d seat us. None would. He was starving and cranky, I was starving and cranky… it was bad. He finally called our favorite Italian place, who said they’d deliver — but that they’d be at his apartment in 10 minutes. We hustled out of the office, but it was pouring rain and I was in heels, and there was no way I was going to be able to walk fast enough to get to his apartment by the time the food came. And as New Yorkers know, there are never any cabs around Union Square when it rains, so that wasn’t an option. Instead, Sumeet gave me his umbrella and, in his nice clothes and dress shoes, sprinted back to his apartment in the downpour. By the time I hobbled there, he had the food laid out on plates, a dozen roses on the table, a card for me, a bottle of wine, and candles lit around the room. It’s hard to stay cranky after all that. We had a quiet, private, amazing dinner, with the usual great conversation. It was low-key, fun, and incredibly thoughtful — and this was at the point where we weren’t technically a couple, so it didn’t feel like it was done out of obligation. It was just nice.

And that, friends, is my best Valentine’s day ever. Tonight, I’m meeting up with Shannon (the roommate) and Sumeet for a glass of wine, then dinner at a surprise location chosen by Sumeet. I can’t wait. Until then, it’s catching up on the reading I haven’t done this week.

Now, your turn. Best Valentine’s Day ever. Or, if you’ve got a good story, give us your worst.

Since I’m Bogarting the Blog

Might as well share this story about the first post-Katrina Mardi Gras in New Orleans.

Armed with sharp tongues and images such as the blue tarps that still protect broken roofs across the city, the clubs that stage Mardi Gras parades are targeting Hurricane Katrina and the politicians they blame for the chaotic response to the catastrophe.

One display in the Krewe du Vieux parade Saturday asked France to buy Louisiana back, suggesting the state might get better treatment than it has from the American government.

Dressed as a pink flamingo and accompanying a cart fashioned to resemble a FEMA trailer, Sally Durkin of Mississippi said the satire is helping to heal the city.

“There’s so much despair around it all,” she said. “Sometimes you have to just take it on the chin and have some humor about it, or we all go crazy.”

Still, in the midst of revelry and satire, even the city known as the Big Easy has a serious side.

The Zulu Social Aid & Pleasure Club, a 90-year-old historically black group that holds one of the city’s most beloved Mardi Gras parades, lit 10 candles at a service in honor of club members who have died since the storm. They lit an eleventh candle to honor the hundreds of people killed by Katrina.

Can’t keep good people down.

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Happy MLK Day

It’s a good time to recognize an American leader who fought diligently for social justice and equality of all people, and who recognized that the struggle for civil rights has to occur on a variety of levels. We’ve come a long way, but there is still much more to be done. Today is a good reminder to leave complacency behind.

These Are Also Not Resolutions

I too hate resolutions, and don’t believe in them. But it’s good to have some goals for the new year, right? So following Lauren’s model, here they are:

1. Do all my reading, every night.
2. Exercise. Sign up for a class if I lack the motivation to do it on my own.
3. Get back out there and socialize again. Law school is not an excuse to stay home on a Friday night, and going out is good on the self esteem. Meet people. Preferably young, handsome investment bankers. (just kidding).
4. Cut back to one caffeinated beverage a day. No more of this chai in the morning, tea in the afternoon, latte in the evening business.
5. Diversify my eating habits. It is not healthy to eat the exact same things every single day, even if those things are generally good for you. And there is more to life than indian food, salmon burgers, goat cheese on baguettes, and pasta.
6. Be a better friend, and actually make an effort to call and go out with the people I care about more often.
7. Quit being so damn judgmental. Be nicer.
8. Stop biting my nails (this will not happen).
9. Read something other than blogs, law books, the New York Times, and the New Yorker. Like a book, maybe.
10. Do something unrelated to law school. Take an Italian class in the evening so I don’t forget everything, or pick up the violin and remind myself how to play.
11. Be a better blogger.

Now let’s see how many of these actually get done. Number 11 may have to wait, as I’m getting my wisdom teeth out on Tuesday and so I’ll probably be out for a couple days. As soon as I get back to New York (January 6th), blogging will pick up with more regularity.

Loot

Except for a few choice moments, it was yet another disappointing Christmas here. Nonetheless, I made sure that my spawn made out like a bandit.

Every shred of Christmas shopping that didn’t consist of homemade presents was done on eBay. Thank you, thank you, to everyone who contributed to the Feed/Clothe/Provide Xmas For Lauren and Ethan Fund, as it was you folks that ensured we not only paid bills this December, but also had a decent Christmas. I bought every Christmas present at prices so sinfully low that I was able to give Ethan the first decent load of cool gifts since we were part of a two income household.

I think the best part of the day was coming home, setting up his (slightly used) GameCube and playing (a lightly used) Harvest Moon: Another Wonderful Life, and exploring this actually pretty new world that is crazily cute, and bonding over naming our digital cow Moo and our digital dog Kitty.

Roxanne sent a book for E, a complete collection of the Curious George books in hardback, that Ethan read enrapt as though it was the Bible on Easter Sunday. All reader gifts were given to Ethan from Santa, made all the more convincing because it’s obvious that Santa would use the same wrapping paper for each gift, even if this paper looks suspiciously like the stuff used at Amazon.com.

Mostly, it’s a good thing Dr. B slowly convinced me that video gaming is not the devil’s handiwork. It only took three (very resistant) years.

The simple things, man.