Women, Men, and Contraception

I am not an easily impassioned person. I have very few strong opinions but today I've reached my breaking point and I have an opinion. I have an opinion and it's all I can do to keep my composure and even type this like a decent person. I am not a political person but even still, I feel qualified to have an opinion on this subject due to the fact that I am a human being and this is a humanity issue--not a political one.

I don't know if it should be a law or not that insurance companies cover birth control. I absolutely do not know what all goes into consideration when creating laws or insurance policies so I'm not going to pretend that I do. I do know that many, many insurance companies already cover birth control and no one's raised a fuss yet. A lot of insurance companies will cover the cost of an abortion as well. It's not because they're taking a political stance or are working to empower women or kill babies--it's because those things are cheaper than the cost of having a child. Insurance companies are businesses and they are looking to save money. Ergo--less people in the hospital = less money that they have to pay.  Due to that logic alone, it baffles me that this is a question at all. But I'm just a simpleton with a lady brain and I came up with that on my own so it could be way off.

So I'm already mildly annoyed that no one takes simple math into consideration. Add to that the fact that it's mostly privileged, white, testicle bearers (who can totally afford all that is involved in keeping an extramarital pregnancy completely hush hush) that are making the laws about my ovaries in the first place and I get a little bit more frustrated--but to a bearable degree because I know that this is just how the world works. But then you get absolute blowhards on the radio saying that women are sluts for requiring birth control in the first place and you have seriously lit a fire under me. No, no. If he'd just said it, I could probably be fine with it. A passing phrase and I'll let it slide. Like I said, I'm not easily impassioned. But he didn't just say it once. This was no accidental statement made in the heat of the moment. Rush Limbaugh raked her over the coals for three days! Clearly, he didn't even listen to her testimony because she never said, "I'm, like, horny all the times and I just like wanna do guys and stuff but I don't wanna have no babies so could you toss me a couple thou? K. Thx." I mean, that's Rush Limbaugh. He's an asshole and a blowhard and everyone knows it. But I'm hearing people around me agreeing with him?! I could not be more simultaneously unsurprised and baffled.

Sandra Fluke is not the only woman in America who requires and deserves birth control. She is not the only type of woman in America who requires birth control. There are women who are married or in committed relationships who know that a child is not the right thing for them at the present moment. There are women suffering from painful and even life-threatening reproductive conditions that can only be treated with The Pill. There are women who have suffered sexual abuse. I assure you--it's not a rare instance when a woman needs birth control for a reason other than the fact that she's working to emulate Carrie Bradshaw.

And here's what my real point is: who gives a damn if she's a "slut" or not. Does that make her less of a person? Because if she can't afford birth control, she sure as hell isn't going to be able to feed that kid and I would never wish to impose this world upon a child who is not sincerely wanted and accepted and loved.

I don't think there are sluts. I think there are women. And I think there are women and there are men and while it's a joint effort to make a baby, the contraceptive responsibility consistently falls on the woman. She has to take a pill every day or she has to get shots every three months or she has to have a device implanted into her uterus and she is the one where the implied and needless shame falls. Meanwhile, there's a panel of men asked to speak before congress because they are experts? Because they can relate to this at all? The woman who was able to speak was trashed on a personal level with out any consideration given to what it was that she actually said. She told stories of the women that she knew--she never mentioned her own sexual history or gave any indication that she has so much sex that "it's amazing that she can even walk."

Why don't we care about the sexual histories of any of the men that spoke? Is it because it's not relevant?

It's because it's not relevant.

Dear Internet, Please Vote.

We're Not Ruining Anything

If you could read my journals from the early 2000's, you'd read the story of a terribly stressed out girl. In 2002, I graduated from high school. But I was home schooled and completely unprepared for life in general. I was confused about what I needed to do next, and how to do it. Should I go to college? I thought about it for a very long time, weighing my options. Some said that if I didn't go right out of high school, then I'd never go and would end up stuck in a tiny, unsatisfying town for my whole life. Some said that I should take some time off and explore my options. Everyone else told me to pray about it. They said that God would reveal what he wanted me to do. So, since that was the only available option with a built-in solution, that's what I went with. I prayed and I waited and any time that I heard a bump or saw something particularly lovely or strange, I wondered, "was that my sign? If that was my sign, what did it mean? What if when I was wondering about that thing, my real sign was sent and I missed it? What if I've ruined everything by thinking about that for too long? I'm thinking about this for too long! I'm going to miss it!" And then all the registration dates passed and that was "God's sign" that I should just stay put, I guess.

A year later, I'd finally decided that God definitely wanted me to go to college. But then I learned that there are thousands and thousands of colleges from which to choose. So, really, we're back at square one but with thousands of options instead of only two. I was stressed to the max. What if I went to the wrong school? It could throw off my entire life. My whole world could be out of balance! I could end up in a totally different career, married to a totally different person having completely different babies and grand children than I was supposed to have and how do you come back from that? There are no do-overs! You can't screw this up! And also, if it's not what God wants from you, then you might as well crawl into a ball and die because it's all worthless. So on top of all of the options--keep your eyes and ears peeled for The Sign.

Finally, I couldn't take it any longer and I decided on a college. I used the fact that I was accepted and that I got enough loans to cover my first two semesters as a sign enough (little did I know that they'll pretty much accept anyone who has enough loans to cover the first two semesters). But despite my sign, I spent the better part of the next three years wondering if I'd made the right choice and second guessing every thing I'd done up to that point. Because after college comes a choice in major and then where you will work for your whole life. And meanwhile, you'd better be looking for a husband because in all reality you are a woman and an English major--are you really going to use this degree?

So most every girl that I knew, and I fell into this as well, started treating every man on campus as though they were our future husbands--until we found out that they were not our future husbands. Every guy you bump in to--you imagine how you'll tell your grand kids that you met at the cafeteria waiting for them to refill the egg burgers. How romantical.

It was out of control is what it was. This is an example of a simplified version of a very typical late night conversation:
"Tom said 'hi' to me, today in class. But he didn't say 'hi' yesterday. Do you think he noticed something about me, today? Do you think he'll ask me out?"
"Totally, he'll ask you out."
"He's so cute. He has curly hair."
"Yeah, and pretty blue eyes."
"Yeah... he has blue eyes but I was really hoping for a guy with brown eyes."
"Honey, if God wants you to have a man with blue eyes..."
"You're right. Oh, this is so exciting! Know what else? Derrick asked if he could sit next to me, today, and then reminded me that it was Spicy Chicken Sandwich day in the cafeteria. How does he know that is relative to my interests? He has brown eyes... Maybe that's a sign that I should be talking to Derrick and not Tom. I'm going to call my mom!"

The next day:
"So, Tom asked to borrow a pencil and I was super excited but then at lunch I saw that he was sitting with Tiffany."
"Tiffany? Ugh."

Twenty minutes later on the phone:
*crying* "I don't know, Mom. He just... I thought he really liked me! How could he go out with her?!"

I feel terrible for these mothers who had absolutely no realistic idea of the romantic relationships that their daughters were in.

But eventually, I got so tired of it and I broke. There was my job(s), and school and on top of all of it, I was being expected to follow this additional life plan that was booby-trapped and filled with bunny trails? I couldn't take it anymore. I stopped going to class. I did all I could to not get put on academic probation--but little else. I couldn't even read. In The Bell Jar, Esther Greenwood talks about how she would look at a page and the letters would all swim around like alphabet soup. This is what it was like for me for an entire semester. That's when I stopped going to church and started drinking and everything started to make a little more sense. I realize that's horrible advice, but it worked for me. Except the drinking part--I was very proud of the way that I keep promises and I'd signed a covenant saying that I wouldn't drink at school and it didn't make me feel good to be a liar. I didn't drink much by the way. I still don't drink much--relatively speaking. Just enough that when I came back to campus, I could sleep without a panic attack.

I cut my priorities down to class and work and just taking it one day at a time. It drastically improved my life and little by little I came to believe that maybe there's not a right way and a wrong way to get to the end of our life. After all, I'd quit thinking about it all together and I was still alive.
Over time (years--I'm still working on it) I went from viewing my life plan like this:

To something a little more like this:

I think our life is a series of choices. I can make a choice and if it was a good one--go with that. If it was terrible, you don't even have to turn around. Just exit left and keep going. And that's even a little too basic for me. If I had it my way, there would be no end. You're not really in charge of how or when it all stops, anyway. You know how they say, "it's not the destination, it's the journey?" Well I was ruining that road trip. Both hands on the steering wheel and my left foot on the break. Just go--just go. Just go wherever you want to go (even if that means just staying--it's a choice, you're covering ground). Just talk to whoever you want to talk to. The people you meet are not a means to an end--they are your traveling companions and this metaphor is getting carried away with itself.

I just want you to know that no matter what--nothing will be ruined. Just go. Just move. Or stay. Staying is going if staying is your choice. Just accept that you get to choose and nothing is irreparable.

"Go in excellence and safety."

Three Things I Did This Week

1. Watched my friends make strangers dance.

2. Had breakfast with Ryan and Tish.

3. Came up with a recipe for honey lattes.

How To Keep Yourself From Cutting Your Hair

If you're anything like me and every single girl that I know, you're trying to grow your hair out. Aren't you? If you're not trying to grow your hair long, then you're clearly not a very active Pinterest participator.
I'm not a very patient person and I really am starting to wonder if my hair will ever grow any longer than it is right now, but the only way to know is to keep waiting. And the only way to keep waiting is to change it in ways that do not involve scissors. So the other day I had a whim. I'd ombre my hair again. Sure, I can do it myself, why not? I've seen a Youtube tutorial. I got this. So I went to Wallgreens, picked up a box of bleach and got to work.

I finished my project in two phases but could have gone for three if I'd had the time/ wanted to risk it. If anyone decides to do this, invite me over and I'll use a little of your leftover bleach to lighten my very ends some more.

Basically we're going dark on top to light on the bottom in a very messy and imperfect way--which is great because that's truly the only way that I get anything accomplished.

1. In preparation, I parted my hair in the way that I ordinarily do and then I separated it into three sections just to keep myself fairly organized. A more professional lady would have used those long clip things but I am no fancy lady with proper tools. So I come out of this phase with pig-tails. One on each side and then I left the back undone.

2. I mixed up the bleach according to the directions and started applying it in the back, first, and then moved towards the front. Don't forget that you're only doing the ends. For my hair, I didn't go any higher than the tops of my ears. It's important to remember that this is a decidedly imperfect project and if you keep your lines too straight and even, you might come out looking... not weird but it's certainly not the look you're going for. So don't be afraid to just get in there and give your hair a good smooshing. Really coat it in the stuff. 3. Once your hair is saturated, pull it back in a bun and forget about it until you smell something burning get bored and check to see if it's lightened at all. My box gave me explicit directions to not go over 60 minutes. I guess I probably left it on for 40 before I rinsed it out. I let my hair air dry because I had all day and also because I didn't want to do anymore damage than was absolutely necessary.

4. Once your hair is dry, phase two (and phase three if you so choose) is an absolute replica of phase one only instead of using the tops of my ears as a guide, I used the bottoms of my ears as a guide. And also I pulled a little through my bangs and other spots where I thought the line of difference was a little too straight. 5. Instead of pulling my hair back into a bun and getting bleach all over everything, I just made sure it was really, really soaked and then just made little twisty dreads to hold it in place and then watched two episodes of New Girl so, yeah, about 40 minutes again. And voila!

You can do it! It takes about three hours, $13, and that deep conditioning masque that you bought and never ever use (or you could make this one that I've been meaning to try but have just never quite gotten around to). Break it out and be kind to your hair for a while--it's been through a lot.

My Spirit Animal is a 7th Grader in 1996 Named Traci Who Dots Her "i" With a Heart.

You! Guys! I got tagged in a blogging game-thing! My friend Staci from the aptly named My Friend Staci tagged me and asked a bunch of questions that I'm more than thrilled to answer because I love to talk about myself. Just ask anyone, really.
I was going to write another post, today, but perhaps I'll just work a little harder on that one as something like this is a welcome relief from the editing, reworking and confidence battering that sometimes comes from doing a project post. And so we'll begin with The Rules:


The Rules:

1. You must post the rules.
2. Post eleven fun facts about yourself on the blog post.
3. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post, and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged.
4. Tag eleven people and link them on your post.
5. Let them know you’ve tagged them!

Eleven Fun Facts (do not forget that "fun" is a relative word):

1. I have finally become the type of person who loves to wake up at 6:30.
2. I recently discovered that raw zucchini is just plain delicious. Raw yellow squash--not so much.
3. If PMS didn't exist, I could be a vegetarian so easily. But sometimes bacon cheeseburgers.
4. Visiting the Fjords of Norway: still on my very short bucket list.
5. I have no desire to visit anywhere that is even vaguely tropical. 
6. For years, I have been practicing saying exactly what I mean as long as I know what that is. It is still an every day challenge. 
7. I misspell the following words at every single attempt: vacuum, ridiculous, definitely, refrigerator, and knowledgeable.
8. I. Hate. Poop. Jokes.
9. Cherries are my favorite anything. Maraschino. Black. Bing. Jolly Ranchers? You name it.
10. Your septum piercing makes me think of industrial boogers.
11. My favorite go-to meal when I don't want to think too hard is pasta, jarred artichokes, chopped tomatoes, garlic salt, red pepper flakes and olive oil. Sometimes I'll add chicken if I have enough foresight/ leftovers. 

Questions that Staci asked me:

1. Do you have a signature (or simply favorite) perfume? What kind is it? I've been looking for that scent for a while, now. I don't want to be a walking Scentsy advertisement or anything but ever since I tried their solid perfume in Enchanted Mist, I've been a in love. It stays on all day and sometimes even longer. I wear it behind my ears and inside my elbows (if I wear it on my wrists, it will get washed off in no time). That's also the smell that I have in my car, too.
2. If you had to pick one song to be your ringtone–FOREVER–what would it be? My ringtone has been Elliot Smith's Waltz #2 for several months, now. I like it a lot. My phone rings so rarely that I never get sick of it and it's far from embarrassing if people hear it in public. I know, I know. Pretentious people will ask, "how could you use Elliot Smith as a ringtone?" Well, just calm down already.
3. Favorite kind of shoe? Hands down, my favorite shoe is the slipper that looks so much like an everyday moccasin that I can wear slippers to work and no one can tell that my feet are warm and cozy.
4. What was your favorite subject? (any grade, k-12) I loved art class. We didn't have art past the fourth grade because of budget cuts and maybe our art teacher hooked up with a student? Or something? I don't know. Anyway--I didn't get to draw anymore after 4th grade.
5. Do you enjoy exercising? Do you actually exercise? I enjoy certain parts of exercising. I like walking because it gets me out of my house. I hate running because I don't like pounding my feet on the ground. Which leads me to the elliptical which I would do all day long if my legs didn't eventually turn into jello. Do I actually exercise? No, I do not because I went through a can't-afford-my-Y-membership phase and let that lapse and it's been too cold to take comfortable walks at night. I would love to get myself an elliptical machine, though.
6. Favorite season? Autumn. If I could live somewhere that it was autumn all of the times, where would that be?
7. How often do you go out to eat? Where? On average, I'd say that I go out to eat not that often. Every couple of weeks? But this week my kitchen has been a wreck and I haven't had all that much time to take care of it so I just end up grabbing something when I'm out. Which I actually hate to do because I love to cook. When Ryan and I want to eat out, we'll usually grab Chinese takeout and get a movie (helloooo Valentine's night) or get hot dogs from Sonic and then take them to the park to eat them. When I want to impress people with our small-town fare, I take them to Amics.
   
8. If you had to donate all your money to one charity, which would you choose? Oh! I want to split it up! But if I had to give it all to one, I'd give it to the Liz Logelin foundation which helps out families who have just lost a parent. There are families who find themselves in times of financial crises after the death of a spouse or parent every single day. Having been in a similar situation, I know that's a terrible burden to bear at a time when how to pay the rent should be the last thing on your mind. The Liz Logan foundation swoops in to help out needy families at a most critical time.
9. Name a detail that you always notice that most people overlook (nice paper, clean cars–something like that). Texture. In clothes or decorating or paper--I don't really care too much about color combinations or patterns but I love mixing textures. My rough, holey jeans and a silk shirt or a bouquet of feathers in a glass vase.
10. Most-used tool in your makeup bag? Aside from my own fingers, which I do not keep in a bag, I suppose it would have to be my eyelash curler.
11. One cherished memory.  I'm thinking about the first time that I ever hung out with Ryan one-on-one after moving here. I was very new to town but it was his 29th birthday and he wanted to go take pictures of the meteor shower and asked if I'd want to tag along. So, I was terribly shy and didn't say much to him at all. At all. But we drove out to the cemetery very late at night and laid out a blanket and he took lots of pictures and I laid there, quiet and thinking, "I would be a lucky girl to fall in love with this boy some day." Cut to two years later and he's the one sitting with me on my couch every night.

Questions for Kellory, Deanna, Jamie, Sarah (who doesn't blog often but will do it for me), and Hilah (even though my boyfriend told me that Hilah's too famous and cool for this--dream big, Libby):

1. What age do you most look forward to?
2. Have you ever wanted to go by a different name? What would you have chosen?
3. What is your favorite go-to meal for an easy week night at home?
4. What is the most recent book that you loved?
5. When was the first time that you were certain that you were in love?
6. What is your favorite thing about your home?
7. Last impulse decision that turned out to be a great idea?
8. What's your usual at a bar? At a coffee shop?
9. What do you do in order to get the creativity flowing?
10. How often do you vacuum/ sweep the floor?
11. What are your thoughts on nail art? Zooey Deschanel loves it but does that mean that I have to?

Alright. That's everything, I do believe.
I love this kind of stuff because my spirit animal is a 7th grader in 1996 named Traci who dots her "i" with a heart.

Stick around, my next post is a How-To and it includes this picture:

All of my love,
Libs

Quantity vs Quality IRL

Yesterday as I was driving to work, I was listening to a discussion on NPR about how the rate of living alone has gone up significantly in recent years (it should be noted that the gentleman in question was talking big-picture so "recent years" means, since the 1950's). It used to be that when a marriage ended, due to divorce or death, a person would move in with family. These days, people are choosing to go it alone.

A caller expressed a concern that people are becoming more and more isolated--especially with the advent of so many fancy-schmancy digital devices that keep people connected so much. She feared that while human beings are social creatures, we're doing our best to unintentionally isolate ourselves more and more. That things like Facebook and other social media are pulling us out of even the real life settings in which we find ourselves.

The gentleman said that is a very common observation and that there have been some studies done on this very subject (I'm sorry that I can't give you more source material than "NPR" and "The Gentleman" but it's a very short drive to work). Obviously, the information is very new and constantly evolving but according to research, a person who is active in forms of social media--someone who is constantly connected to their iPhone and their Facebook account is actually more likely to approach a stranger in a social setting than most people were 10 years ago.

And I found that fascinating. Because, on the surface, yeah--it does look like that. Like, we're surrounded by a room full of people and everyone's looking at a tiny screen instead of one another. I was at a Super Bowl party the other night and almost everyone was looking into their iPhone--commenting on one another's Facebook statuses, pictures and comments even though we were all in the room. We could have all had that conversation in real life. But it was a fun, under the table discussion--two conversations at once.

So I guess my question is... are we becoming less social or more social? It's hard to tell.
Ten years ago, we'd have to stay home and wait by the phone to talk to a friend. Right now, we can go do whatever we want. Be with whomever we choose whenever we like--and still not miss that appointment with the other friend. We can stay connected. We can mix business and pleasure.

Are we getting quantity and the cost of quality? I honestly don't know. I just haven't stopped thinking about it since yesterday and so I thought I'd see what you guys think about it.