maybe getting fatter and maybe not caring

As noted previously, I am still new to this whole cooking thing. Being blessed to go to a school that forces you to stay on the generally mediocre meal plan for all four years, I did not really ever have to cook in college, nor did I have the cash moneys to buy ingredients. Hauling tons of food from the grocery store into my house and storing it and then figuring out what the hell to do with it was simply too much when I already so much on my plate, like Res Life and class and putting clothes on. Plus, there was that whole eating disorder resurgence thang that generally left me with even less desire to learn how to make food and consume it.

But now, fully and totally left to my own devices in terms of feeding, it's sink or swim. And the Sheriff is swimming (dog paddling, really) but learning that cooking is not my forte. I get immense satisfaction when something I make is delicious, but when it's just palatable, my motivation to cook again is reduced even further by lack of being a cooking show rock star by natural talent. And yet, feed myself I must. So sometimes my meals are less than balanced: breakfast might be a pop-tart stolen from the snack closet at school, and dinner could be Triscuits, cream cheese, and whatever my roommate is making and willing to share. Working out on the regular has been reduced to random planks and pushups and once a week yoga.

So while I do not have a scale to consult/obsess over and all of my clothes still fit, I am starting to feel a bit softer. A bit fatter, even. And somehow, I don't really care. It's not at the level it was my first year of college, where I gained 40 pounds (yep, 40. Suck it, Freshmen 15), and was just impressed by my own fat and also too happy drinking full-fat chocolate milk with every meal too care. But still. There's a level of apathy and simple observation over the changes that I think is kinda worth celebrating.

I attribute this to several things: being so busy that worrying about my maybe expanding thighs simply doesn't fit in the agenda, living and working in a community that (generally) praises and gets a boner over a more hourglass/thick figure (see: every song about booty performed by a black man), the fact that my clothes are usually not very structured so a little expansion is excusable. But above all else, I think it's more that I feel like what I'm doing with my body and my mind is a lot more important than what my body's looking like these days. Besides, I've still got dudes for days so I'm not too concerned about my attractiveness factor.

And yet. I'm a human, and I've been at least a little brainwashed with the idea of what a "hot" body looks like for a young white woman, and know that I am moving slightly away from that as I acquire a bit more cushion for the pushin, as they say. The insecurities are still there; I'm not superwoman at fighting them off all the time. But slowly, I'm getting there. Sometimes, it is that easy.

Ever had this experience? How do you react to bodily change, especially when it's during a period of intense life changes as well?

Much love,
The Sheriff

the PSU sex abuse scandal: a few thoughts

Growing up, I hated Penn State. HATED THEM. They embodied everything that young angry punk rock Sheriff hated: overly happy, athletics obsessed, beer soaked, and hard mentality driven fools in Pennsylvania (not that I was stereotyping or anything). I always doubted Joe Pa's squeaky image for the team, having heard many lurid urban (really rural) legends of the craziness of Penn State football team party antics and such. Most of the kids who did have the grades to go to college from my high school went to Penn State--getting into main campus was achieving the dream for some. I sneered at these minions and went to my fancy pants lady college and had a ball and became actually less of an asshole towards PSU folks. But the herd mentality still made me uneasy, as I've discussed here before.

So the sex abuse scandal that's going on right now is shocking but somehow also not entirely unexpected to me. How could a patriarchal, old boys club not cover up something of this proportion? If you can stomach it and are not easily triggered, I suggest you read the grand jury indictment. It makes the whole institution look negligent for not doing more to stop it, and frankly, I absolutely include Joe Pa in that group. He was the figurehead and he had to be fired if for nothing else to make the trustees feel better, but he also did one of the worst things someone can do when things are going wrong: doing the minimum required to stop the badness. It's not quite the Kitty Genovese effect, but it's enough that he absolutely deserved to get fired for his lack of action. I don't care if he's the winningest man in college sports. I don't care if he's ancient. I don't care if this team has been his life and the season's almost over.  A BOY WAS RAPED IN THE SHOWER AND HE DIDN'T CALL THE COPS. Period. The efforts of PSU students to raise money/awareness for child abuse survivors are a touching gesture and genuinely seem to be coming from a good place, but the riots the night of Joe Pa's firing? Less so.

I'm still so angry about this it's hard for me to think straight. What say ya'll?

Much love,
The Sheriff

PS--this adds some good questions to stir the pot further.

farewell

I am incredibly sad and pissed that this day has come.

But here it is.

FF readers, you've been with me (maybe) for a year and a half. And you've read good and less good posts (some quite excellent, if I may get my brag on for a hot sex), explicit and theoretical posts, my ramblings and guests eloquent words.

But, for at least the foreseeable future, I gotta say good-bye.

Which breaks my heart and is actually making me tear up as I type this.

My life right now is very full, and delightfully and stressfully so. I've got an awesome city to get to know, and amazing friends both new and old, and a very intense job that not only has me physically at work breaking up fights and attempting to teach from 7 to 3 but that also includes planning engaging lessons and taking certification classes and scrambling for supplies.

I just cannot give this blog the love and attention and posting it deserves right now. And as much as I still fight for women and body image love and feminist yearnings all over the place, these causes have been supplemented with also fighting the achievement gap and poverty and racism.

I have so much enjoyed reading your comments and hearing about discussions spurred by postings here, and I hope that you all continue to keep these conversations going in your own lives. Activism doesn't have to be protests and pins on your backpack; talking to people and calling them out on their bullshit is equally, if not more, important!

Keep fighting the good fight. Hopefully I'll be back here someday.

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

I'm happy and my friends can't stand it!

Bisexuality and hiphop---this piece is good ish.

Beyonce's pregnancy and the debate over its meaning is sorta silly. But I'm pretty excited to see how damn cute this behbeh is.

Just married 'mos! HAPPINESS.

Who falls to addiction and who gets past it? This one hits home.

Adventures in open marriage.

5 things ya should know about marriage.

Ladies, does your poop smell? Here's a cure!

Much love,
The Sheriff

self-consciousness in pictures: facebook vs the yearbook

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 Remember when you were a baby-child (or ya know, in high school), and you had picture day? And it was a really big deal because it was going to be in the yearbook and it's how everyone would remember you for all time and they gave you those awkward impotent little combs to yank through your hair before having your chin posed at strange angles. Good times, friends.

Of course, yearbook photos did and still do cause anxiety and self-consciousness, especially because they're so posed and often tend to capture us at our most strange and adolescent, with bad haircuts and pimples and oddly fitting clothes. Smith, unlike apparently a lot of schools, still does yearbooks and sends them out to the graduated seniors families.


My dad flipped through it and texted me that myself and Lady Lola looked cute on the convocation page. Convocation? That night when we rampage around campus half-naked and yell chants about house pride and booties and whatnot?

Oh shit.


What if I look fat?

I hate to admit it, but those were the first thoughts to run through my head. My primary concern was if I'd be immortalized in the consciousness of my graduating class as tubby girl in a bikini top, sarong, and a leopard print pink plastic fedora.

Some of the issue with this is that with Facebook, you are immortalized on the Interwebz for all time...but you untag with abandon. And trust me in that I abuse that privilege. A little bit of a tummy in one picture? Untag. One eye half-closed (perhaps drunkenly)? Untag. Photo taken from below, the never-even-a-little-flattering angle? Definitely untag.

But has anyone else scrutinized these photos? Would other folks devote half the energy to hatin' on my body that I do to myself? Perhaps, but I doubt it. When friends whine about how bad a picture is that I've put up of them, rarely do I even see their supposed imperfections until they show me them. And even then, who cares? One bad photo among the dozens (hundreds?) of good ones doesn't mean that everyone will forever remember you in that light.

And I finally saw the dreaded yearbook convocation picture (via Skype, thanks to a good pal). And while it is not the most flattering photo of myself, above all else, I look deliriously and genuinely happy to be frolicking with my Albright ladies. And that makes it a beautiful photo all in itself.

What say you? Any Smithies find questionable pictures of themselves in the glories of the yearbook? Does everyone scrutinize their yearbook photos with such nastiness?

Much love,
The Sheriff

BONUS--Celebrity yearbook photos. Why is J Lo so hot always?

friday links

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The evolution of tampon ads...we've got a long way to go, ya'll.

I, surprisingly, really enjoyed reading Sally's body hair management system. Mostly because it made me feel less crazy about my own. And also made me realize how little it matters!

"Assume good intentions"--I've heard this said many times before as a norm during group sessions about tough topics, but it is also a great general life reminder.

Is 25 old now?

NOOOOOOOO. I don't normally give a shit about celebrity relationships, but this makes me sad (maybe because I taught summer school at his alma mater?). NOTE--this may or may not be a real thing, since the Smiths are denying it.

Females--Do you masturbate? These folks can cure you! Shaking my head...

Humorous post about pooping and childbirth. Still does not make me feel great about the fact that this will probably happen to me one day, but it did give some LOLs.

College students use drinking as an "excuse" to have sex and not have to be labeled sluts. Sad, but true....but it still enrages me! NO ONE NEEDS AN EXCUSE TO HAVE CONSENSUAL SEX!

Much love,
The Sheriff

the faux-independence of college: is it a bad thing?

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I have a lovely, much younger friend (psst--she blogs over at PenisEnvy as Dr. Kinky) who is about to leave for Smith. Talking to her recently made me remember all of the excitement and insanity of leaving for college the first time--the anxieties over making new friends and saying goodbye to old ones, PACKING, the thrill of independence.

But are ya really that independent at college?

This is the interesting paradox of Smith, in particular, that I am realizing post-graduation. You go to this fantastic college, full of strong, smart, sassy women with their own thoughts and ideas and achievements and anxieties (so much anxiety. But that is another post!). You can do ANYTHING you want, take any classes you want thanks to the open curriculum, skip any classes you want, sleep with anyone you want (all the men in the Valley! All the women! No one at all!). You make your schedule, choose your extracurriculars, make big decisions about your future, take out big loans. Delicious independence.

Except...no.

There are TEAMS of folks at Smith (and every college) whose jobs exist solely to make your existence easier. IT people you call when the internet is funky or slow or down entirely, electricians who come out at 3AM to turn off your beeping fire alarm when the school is running on generator power, facilities management workers who get out there at the crack of dawn to shovel all that damn New England snow, the housekeepers who not only scrub the tubs but are always there to give you the college gossip and friendly banter on your way to class, the lovely people feeding you....the list goes on and on.

And as much as I thought I was an independent person, and not pampered, I was so so wrong. Waiting for the electric company to come cut on my service during a heat wave, sitting in a chair pressed against the open window, I fully realized the blessing of letting other people take care of things. Sitting in a pool of my own sweat, I once again was faced with how much of a fucking privilege college is, especially the Smith experience (Smith, btws, got a score of 96/100 for quality of life among America's top colleges...probably thanks to all the lovely people taking care of our needs).

It's interesting that colleges put so much work into taking care of these logistical aspects of life for their students while they're being prepared to go into the world and take over on their own. But they do this so you can go about your intellectual life unfettered by the annoyances that people who aren't just full-time students often have to deal with. It's not such a bad thing to not really be doin' it for yourself. So appreciate it and soak up the faux-independence, first years!

When did you realize you'd been maybe just a wee bit spoiled, either in college or before going off?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

Michele Bachmann is an interesting woman. By which I mean I really really disagree with most things she says.

This case, while miraculous, shouldn't be used to justify limiting abortions to everyone because a one-in-bazillion chance baby survived.

For the LOLZ: If male superheroes posed like Wonder Woman.

Jess Weiner (body image goddess) and her story about losing weight to be healthier despite her message of loving one's body at all sizes. The sensationalist title aside, I think it raises some good questions!

And so does VA's take on it over at NeverSayDiet.

Much love,
The Sheriff

Interacial dating drama

Several recent changes have occurred in the Sheriff's life, including, among other things, graduation, getting and moving into an apartment in a real city for the first time ever, figuring out public transit, and having some romance on the side.

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And for the first time, the romance involves someone not of my race.

I'm currently seeing a half Black, half Arab man who, although light-skinned, is clearly Not White, and that's what matters when it comes to how people perceive and react to us.

I've been lucky by mistake of birth to be white and because I was raised in a vastly white woodsy town,  totally unaware of race. Sure, I was raised to be not racist and to accept everyone regardless of skin color and all that happy stuff. But I've never had to read "specialty" magazines to find women in ads who look like me; my hair care products are carried everywhere; no one ever asks me how people of my entire racial group feel about rap lyrics or our president or affirmative action. Although I care very much about hearing different perspectives, in feminism and in general, it's not something I'd ever been equipped to give voice to in this here blog as a white chick generally dating/kissing/fucking white dudes (and sometimes white women).

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And now, I have a slightly more enlightened perspective (but, to be real, still extremely limited) on how much racial relations in this country suck. White people--we really are clueless.

I know most people don't think we are post-racial just because we got Obama in the White House (but this song is still pretty good). But I thought we had made some progress at least since the Civil Rights Era, right? Maybe? Just a little?

But you wouldn't really know it, the way people act towards an unknown large brown man walking around with a small blonde woman. People stare. And I don't mean just gawk the way kids do; I mean stare with a touch of nastiness or confusion in it. We tried to go out to breakfast at a local joint in my woodsy sweet hometown, and it was not sweet. He felt so uncomfortable, we just left. My seemingly progressive parents have had similarly baffling experiences; for the first time ever, my mama talked to me about dating violence and not putting up with it, as if he's some sort of larger threat because he's got brown skin. We get the stares walking around in black communities too.

Crazy.

Have you experienced this, either as a minority yourself or while dating one? Tell me about it, I've missed you!

Much love,
The Sheriff

snow bunnies, sex, and stereotypes

As I will talk more about on Tuesday, I'm now dating a guy of mixed race, and it's bringing up a whole bunch of interesting perspectives, views, and experiences. Most curiously humorous and fucked up of which has been hearing his report on the stereotypes about white girls.

I don't know why it was such a surprise to me to hear the stereotypes about us, or that there even are pre-conceived notions about white chicks. Why wouldn't there be? The other groups are all covered: Black men are supposed to be great at fucking, thanks to their unnaturally large penises, but according to popular belief, they don't go down on women, at all, ever, despite demanding head themselves. Oh, and they'll knock ya up with their super virile sperm. Latinas are spicy little wildcats in bed. Asian men aren't packing it in inches, but they make up for it with skillful love-making and being tender in bed.

And white girls are supposed to be stupid, but stuck-up. We're supposed to be bad kissers, but great at giving head. We "work harder," evidently. And we're rare; that's why white girls are coveted by certain minority men. Snow bunnies. I learned these things when he told me I was a good kisser for a white girl. I laughed and found out that there's apparently a whole racial shortcoming that I've overcome in becoming skillful in kissing.

But the arbitrariness of stereotypes, while humorous, shouldn't be surprising. Most stereotypes are stupidly specific (Asians are good at math, Latin folks are great dancers, Indian people have bad B.O., and so on). Plus, I've done it to other races; why wouldn't they do it to my racial and gender group? Does this explain why black men approach me or my white friends when we're out, because they think we're going to be good at head and they can ignore our bad kissing in pursuit of that or simply because we're hot bitches? And how does it work for mixed race people: would half-Black, half-Asian dude be well-hung but tender, or smaller and less likely to give head--how does the stereotype math work on that one?

It doesn't. Because this whole thing is ridiculous. People are just people, and they bring their own individual unique preferences, skills and shortcomings to the table, sexually and otherwise.

What ridiculous sex stereotypes have you heard? Let me hear it.

Much love,
The Sheriff

FF is not dead!

Sorry for the break in posting. The Sheriff has been crazy busy with Real World things, and is the process of getting internet hookup in her new apartment.

Regular posting to resume some time soon hopefully!

Much love (and missing you!),
The Sheriff

looks vs swagger: what gets ya laid?

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 I have an ongoing argument with a male friend we'll call, aptly, Skinny. Skinny is very lean and not terribly tall; some might call him "scrawny." He is convinced that this is what keeps him from getting anywhere with women in conversation, which obviously stop him from gettin' it in.

I say bullshit.

80% of what gets anyone laid is swagger. It's confidence. It's the ability to project that you're awesome and that this person is lucky to be with you but in a way that's not conceited or arrogant. It's subtle, but it's powerful when people have it and actually comfortable enough with themselves to turn their swag on. Of course, being anything other than what our mainstream culture defines as attractive could hurt your chances, in theory. But in practice, I have witnessed so many flirtations and pairings that were unbalanced in terms of sheer physical attractiveness but powered by one person's total confidence.

Confidence is flat out hot. When someone is projecting confidence in their attributes, it makes you think they'll have the same skills in pleasing you. This might be a fallacy (I've had my share of missed calls based on swagger alone), but the swagger does its work in getting them interactions with fine people such as yourself.

And what's best is swag isn't something you have or else you're fucked; you can always develop a healthy sense of cockiness and reap the benefits, regardless of whether or not society says you're hot enough to be reaping those sexual benefits. Self-love and a little bit of good posture can do a world of good.

But if you think you're too skinny/short/fat/tall/awkward/differently abled to get pussy/peen, guess what? You're probably right. You've already decided in your own head that you weren't good enough for anyone's attention, and then by being more shy and reserved and less likely to act on that sexy eye contact someone's flashing you across the room, you dash your own chances. And then, of course, since you have just proven to yourself that you can't get any, you won't put it any effort next time either, and so the cycle continues.

I say: Chin up. Get your swag on, and you'll be fine.

But what do you say? Is swagger the ultimate determinant of one's ability to get laid, or is it more based in looks than I think? Am I just easily swayed by cockiness? Is it more about chemistry? Pheromones? Talk to me.

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

Thinner wife, happier marriage? Effed up.

Even more effed up: a rape case in which justice should've been easy to see (he raped her, he's guilty) but instead the raped woman is considered rape-able because she has bipolar disorder. 

9 year olds should be sexy!....I'm getting tired of this shit. Aren't you too? 

The rape of men--a really great piece about a topic usually overlooked. Warning: it can get graphic and maybe triggering so read with caution.

Much love,
The Sheriff

who pays?

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Re: the photo above--I don't think that's true anymore, at least not in the circles I run in. I know of very few women (or men) who want their prospective lover to show that they're deserving of some action by shelling out some serious dough. The whole idea that he should have to buy an expensive dinner to get a blowjob is somewhat foreign to my generation (I think!), and thankfully so: those attitudes turn sex into a direct commodity and not an act of pleasure or enjoyment. But with or without those attitudes present, the discussion over who should pay for dates, dinners, and birth control is still alive, well, and fraught with gendered stereotypes, so let's dive right in, shall we?

There is no right or wrong stance as far as feminism goes in terms of who should pay; personally, I think it's nice to alternate paying in all things shared, which definitely includes birth control since the menfolk benefit as much as you do from not having to financially endure an unplanned pregnancy. But what if thanks to factors like the glass ceiling, the fact that men are typically encouraged to go into high-paying fields like the sciences, engineering, and such moreso than women are, and the plain ol' wage gap, he makes significantly more than you (this could definitely apply to a same-sex couple too, for the record)? Financially, you may not actually be able to meet him one-for-one in alternating paying for things or splitting expenses 50/50, but you also probably don't want to feel like a kept woman, contributing just the pleasure of your company in and out of the bedroom.

So...why pays? You, him, both of you? I struggle with this all the time, so I'd love to hear some thoughts about how other folks keep it balanced.

Much love,
The Sheriff

sex and body image: one night stands vs. relationships

It's no secret that sex, whether it's good, bad, rough, gentle, hetero or queer, can have an enormous impact on your body image. A genuine compliment from a one night stand can uplift us for days and almost nothin' feels better than nice words when you're naked, while a thoughtless callous mention of our thick thighs by a lover can send that self-esteem plummeting right back down. Simply being chosen as the recipient of someone's affections, sexual or sweeter, can be a body image boost, since they looked at all the peeps in the bar and singled out you. While we might get body commentary from any number of sources and not just the folks we get freaky with, it's just more potent and the words have more impact when they're coming from someone who has seen your O-face, or your nude body in the unflattering morning light, or exactly what your ass looks like from behind.

Today, I'm curious about if we can say one is better for your self-esteem and body image than the other.

Obviously, there's no concrete answer here since so much of either interaction depends on the specifics of your situations. Is he sensitive and verbose in his praise? Is she a more tight-lipped or just a downright meanie? One-nighters can be just as delightfully gentle and worshipful in their compliments as a relationship can, and frankly, the boost of being picked out as a hottie solely on the basis of your physical attractiveness (which is, to me, equals parts chemistry of personality, swagger, and actual looks, but that's an upcoming post) can be a huge turn-on. Feeling wanted is downright sexy. But if it's dependent mainly on getting external feedback from others and not from telling yourself how gorgeous and want-able you are, that might not be sustainable and could promote some soul-searching.

On balance, relationships can often reach a point where the sex and compliments are routine at best, if they don't drop off the radar altogether. Many long-term couples bemoan the lack of verbal affection and flattery that tends to accompany knowing someone well enough to be intimately familiar with, say, their athlete's foot problem or their morning breath or the effects of their lactose intolerance. I ain't criticizing these things or implying that one can't be hot and have foot fungus, but having the full and delightful knowledge that comes with being in a longer term relationship often disabuses us of our illusions that we create in our heads about how our partner is so perfect and wonderful and they don't poop and they just exist to be hot and sexy for us. People are full of flaws, and being in a real relationship with someone reveals that in a way that a one night stand just doesn't have the time for, and that's both good and bad. Bad if you rely on your partner to boost your body image with compliments, and good if you can recognize how awesome it is that someone knows about your fungus and loves you and wants to bang you anyway.

How do you feel/think about all this? What gives your body image the bigger boost?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

A gender-diverse parenting primer.

Restrictions on abortion multiply this year...

And so do violent crimes against LGBT individuals. SAD.

Uplifting: Little boy meets his first gay couple. Kids are the best.

All diets are fad diets!

....what. the. eff. Seriously.

Much love,
The Sheriff

"your girl"--possession, manliness, hiphop, and sex

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 I've noticed a pretty interesting trend in hiphop lyrics (yep, that ol' bin of misogyny that I still love!) lately. Let's see if you can spot it too!

I'm snatching all your bitches at my leisure--Kreayshawn, "Gucci Gucci"


Oh, that was your girl? I thought I recognized her--Drake, "Bedrock"


Why don't you run along and tell your girl to bring it here--Atmosphere, "The Bass and The Movement"


Look homie I ain't trying to force your hand/But Ima take your girl--Lil Wayne, "I Can Take Your Girl"


She was high on that pill so I fucked your lady--Too $hort on Wiz Khalifa, "On My Level"


Met a group of girls in a Escalade/They came with you and left with me--New Boys, "Backseat"


Lookin' for ya girl? She on my jock--LMFAO, "Party Rock Anthem"


If you slip I’m gonna fall on top of your girl--Pitbull, "Give Me Everything"

Notice anything? If the title of this post didn't totally give it away to your lazy summertime brain (no judgment), I'm interested in this emphasis on stealin' your girl for a few reasons.

Number one, it stresses that this girl/these girls were at one point yours, but now are mine, sexually at least...and this implies that girls are something of a possession to be proud of and fought over like territory. Number two, it underlines that these are girls we're talking about, not full grown-ass women with desires and choices of their own. Which is not to say that such full grown-ass women wouldn't choose to be with said girl-stealer, but that their agency is not even a question considered here. The only thing of import is that a possession has been taken from one dude by someone presumably more money and that this should grievously wound the first party's pride. One of the big proving grounds for toughness and manliness is clearly sex in both the hiphop and real worlds: being wanted by so many people or getting women without even trying (My swag hit on ladies unknowingly--Kanye West on Keri Hilson's "Pretty Girl Rock") is not just a self-esteem boost but a validation of worth and a means for proving superiority, especially if you managed to take what was previously his.

Further interesting is that the first lyric sample is from a female MC, so it would appear that she's absorbed at least some of the typical masculine posturing of emphasizing their bitches, their money, and their violent potential that most rappers have to do in order to be taken seriously for their craft. And it pisses me off. Lyrical skill shouldn't have to be packaged with gendered definitions of masculinity that focus on one's ability to objectify women, make money through illegal means, and hurt people, no matter how incredible the booty-dropping beat.

What do you think? Am I just overanalyzing, or does this emphasis trouble you to (even as, perhaps, you also drop it low like myself to such objectifying lyrics)?

Much love,
The Sheriff

bodies change: buddhism and shame and weight gain

What does Buddhism have to do with body image, you might ask? Quite a bit, I say.

First of all, there's the fact that Buddha is alternately presented as looking like this:

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Or this:

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So Buddha's either fat and jolly or skinny and serious, but much like the Honey Badger, he doesn't give  a shit. Lessons to be learned.

Humorous digression aside, that's not actually what this post is about. Buddhism teaches the concept of non-attachment, which emphasizes that it isn't the material things or relationships or bodies of this world that cause our misery and suffering but our attachment to them as they are in this moment, assuming that they will never change or age or differ or want something new. By releasing our attachments to these things and embracing them for what they are, day to day and moment to moment, we can lessen our suffering (in theory, anyway).

So what does this have to do with body image? If we try to release our attachments from how our body used to look, or on forcing ourselves to maintain the way it looks now, or attempting to squish it into the box of our standards for our future selves, then when change occurs we won't be so shocked and feel so much shame and guilt over natural processes that occur with or without our intervention. It's these feelings of shame and guilt and obsession that make it harder to change and accept it, not the change itself.

I'm not saying you shouldn't pursue a healthy lifestyle with a goal of maintaining your body as best as you can as you age; I personally do so and would be a big hypocrite if I were to preach otherwise. But there are natural effects of time and aging and sun exposure and LIVING goddammit that you can't completely reverse or control. Fighting them and trying to look the same as you did in high school or college or before babies is futile, and it's the insistence on remaining attached and devoted to an old image of yourself that will harm you. Living in fear that your body will never be this hot again is a sad way to live your life and keeps you from feeling so much joy!

But how to detach? Emphasize all the things your body can do that it couldn't before. Look at how much richer your life is with the wisdom of years or the baby child you have or with forgiving the five pounds you gained eating delicious food abroad.

What do ya think?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

Texas' sonogram law challenged in court. Woo!

Murder and moms: interesting look at Casey Anthony and her compatriots.

MORE Jezebel (I'm a lazy linker lately): the burden of a lower-class background. Fantastic stuff.

Much love,
The sheriff

dads and boners: the ew factor and egos

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Gross title, eh? :)

A few weeks ago, I was sitting with my dad, reading a book while he watched TV. A commercial for Viagra or Cialis or something similar was on, and showing the usual ridiculous shit that pharmaceutical commercials generally adore in their ads: depressed man with no boner at beginning discovers penis magic and overcomes his erectile dysfunction, enjoys sailing and surfing and cuddling with his hot wife in the sunset. Of course, it reminded me of Orgasm Inc., and I told him all about the process of making normal sexuality into a disease in the pursuit of profits.

His response? "Eventually I might need it, but right now I thankfully don't need any of that stuff."

Cue the gross-out sounds. WHY WOULD THAT BE OK TO SHARE WITH ME? Ew. Yuck. Blech.

Ahem. Moving on.

But after talking and laugh about this situation with my mama, I realized that this comment, while entirely stupid and inappropriate to make to one's daughter when that is not the sort of relationship you have, is about male ego more than it is anything else. It's about proving that one is still virile and not old and still a man. Which is silly, because having sired three kids, I already know this about my pops. Furthermore, being a man is more about treating people and yourself with respect and being responsible and doing what needs to be done (which is also the same as my definition as being a good person, oddly enough), NOT about having a boner.

Eesh. What do you think about this laughable encounter? Anyone else ever had a dad say something similar?

why women "drop out"--graduating, pressure, and the ease of roles

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Graduating from an incredible college like Smith was a huge accomplishment for me, academically, personally, intellectually, financially. But the pressures of being a high-performing female (that phrase makes it sound like I'm super fertile, but I'm not changing it) don't end up with the commencement exercises, and I'm sure many of fellow high-pressure grads can relate to the following thoughts and comments.

My entire life I've been a high-achiever in everything I've ever done: I made volunteering a competitive event, worked an obscene number of hours through both high school and college to make money, beat my body and its hungers into submission, and of course, got amazing grades and praise from all of my teachers (I never did sports, however, thanks to being a chunky kid and hating the serious chub rub that came with being active). I did it all and made it look easy (hopefully), even as it felt like death. My slogan was "all I do is win" long before DJ Khaled came along.

And now that I've graduated, I feel like the pressure should've lessened a little. Grades are over! No more exams! I got my piece of paper with Latin on it!

And yet...it actually feels worse right now.

Everyone I run into asks what I'm doing with my life, and seems disappointed when I tell them. "Oh, really? I never saw you as a ______ (insert whatever noun you want there that's not good enough for your friends/family/pastor)," or "I always thought you'd work at the UN or something really impressive." Perhaps these comments are meant to be encouraging, like "Look how highly I think of you!" But what I hear is more like, "Why aren't you meeting the expectations that Everybody has for you while also being attractive and rich?" And I can only imagine that I'm not alone.

The feeling of all this insane pressure is helping me begin to understand why high-performing women "drop out" by getting hitched and having babies and becoming devoted moms and wives. Rest assured, I don't actually want to yet, but the ease of having a role to settle into instead of having to constantly question and assert and figure out what precisely it is that I want sounds a lot more relaxing than the exhaustion and terror I alternately feel.

But. A role is not what I want to fit into. Not deep down. I have a little more compassion for women who choose to step out of their demanding work positions in order to raise a family or whatnot, because this pressure is real and scary. But a role would be too: pressures and expectations are waiting right there for you, except with less guesswork about how to go about being the ideal mom or wife, since that's laid out for you in magazines like Parenting and Martha Stewart and such.

No matter what your position, chances are you'll never measure up to the perfect standard set before you because perfection is naturally unattainable and humans are so inherently flawed that our attempts at being otherwise are nearly always humorously thwarted by life. So I'm encouraging my fellow graduates: take a deep breath. Fuck the Everybody who tells you that you're not all you can be and you're disappointing. Do what feels right, and don't expect your first job to help you save the world, become famous all over, and be rich (if it does, please tell me your secret). But don't let yourself fall into something by sheer laziness or exhaustion: make as deliberate of choices as your financial situation will let you, and smile. These are the good times, and sometimes we (and by "we" I mean I) get so overwhelmed that we forget that.

Grads: do you feel this crazy pressure too from friends/strangers/family?
Established Adults: does it ever go away?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

How violent sex helped erase my PTSD---TRIGGER warning, but a very interesting piece.

Lovin' up on this comment of the day on Jezebel.

As I suspected. Sigh.

Neither butch nor top.

Much love,
 The Sheriff

raising a genderless baby

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 I put a news piece about this in the Friday Links a few weeks ago, but I wanted to give it some more blog space because I think it's wildly interesting and would love to hear what other people think about this. A couple has chosen to raise their child without telling anyone the sex of the baby.

Now, just to clarify in terms of vocabulary: your sex is the junk in your pants, your biological parts. Male/female. Gender is a range of characteristics ascribed to one's sex, usually divided in terms of masculinity/femininity. The child in question here, named Storm, does not have an ambiguous sex, but their parents are choosing to keep their sexual identity secret to allow the child to grow up without having to fit into a gendered box. Got it? Good. Onto the meaty stuff of this situation.

I think this family is obviously very brave for bucking one of the most standardized and accepted binaries and social categorizations of most human societies. To attempt to dismantle that is a biggie, and I applaud them for having the guts to entirely re-think a lot of our assumptions about gender identity. And if more people start to do this or at least consider it a legitimate choice for a family, this could lead to very real and awesome social change. For many people, gender is a category full of inane and negative associations that their lives are far better without, and maybe this baby Storm will grow up better and more balanced than most of us for having been raised without the assumptions of gender cast upon them.

But.

Is it fair to make one individual child into a social experiment? I'm not sure. Clearly, we are all raised with our parents' personal biases politically, religiously, socially, and so on. I struggle all the time with a much less intense but related question: as a vegetarian for most of my life, should I raise my possible future kids as vegetarians? Sure, that fills them with my particular ideology but so does allowing them to eat meat. Parents constantly construct their child's idea of what is normal, healthy, and acceptable in all aspects of life, and this is no different. This couple is doing what they see as best for their kid, and trying to build a new idea of normal where a baby's gender is not the most important thing about them or the primary facet of their personality from which we build assumptions of their preferences and attitudes (for an example: you see a baby in blue and say he's a handsome, strong, little man versus a pink-clothed baby and saying how sweet and cute she is and buy her toys that enforce a sweet, cute image. Innocent commentary that builds our lifelong ideas about masculinity and femininity...unless people question them!). But will this help the kid thrive in a world that demands gender conformity? I can't say for sure, but with supportive parents, I do hope that if Storm encounters any serious teasing or is socially ostracized that they'll be better equipped to deal.

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If baby Storm decides to confine to the gender binary and is abundantly masculine/feminine in a way that fits with the societal expectations of their biological sex, will their parents be supportive? If Storm falls in love with ballet, princesses, Barbie, and makeup, will they indulge these interests or push her towards Tonka trunks? It's interesting to wonder about, though clearly there aren't any real answers.

Whatcha think about this? My opinions are clearly ALL over the place, so I'm really curious what other people think of this couple's choice to raise a baby without a known gender.

Much love,
The Sheriff

ads promoting eating disorders?--talkin' yoplait today

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Because I live under a rock and don't actually own a TV (and didn't bother to learn how to turn on my parents' TV while I was living with them), I never saw this ad from Yoplait that NEDA (National Eating Disorder Association, for those not in the loop with the acronyms) got yanked for supposedly promoting eating disorders among viewers.

I think this ad is really interesting because it does capture a lot of sad aspects of modern women and our relationship to food: the denial of desires for supposedly "bad" foods, the immense guilt that comes from enjoying these supposedly sinful treats, the constant comparison of bodies, the precise math calculations done in order to justify a caloric splurge. To me, the mental mathematics absolutely were reminiscent of my eating disorder, trying to see how I could make myself feel at peace with eating a piece of bread or mashed potatoes or a slice of my own birthday cake.

The inner dialogue of most eating disordered individuals is definitely harsher than the thoughts presented in this ad, but that doesn't make it okay just because it's not pathological. The red haired actress notes at the beginning of the ad, "I've been good all day, I deserve it!" As if one needs to deserve or justify one's food choices anyway. Eat what ya damn please! Your food choices, contrary to the thoughts of many women and men struggling with disorder eating and eating disorders, are not a moral issue. They don't make you good or bad. Seriously.

Furthermore, the choice of the actress with the sunken cheeks being the one eating yogurt and the healthier-looking actress being the one experiencing all the inner turmoil, guilt, and envy sends a pretty clear message about which one you should like to be more like.

But does it actually promote eating disorders? Nah. I don't think so. It could be triggering for someone struggling or reinforce the thoughts and beliefs of someone struggling with disordered eating, but for a food company to promote eating disorders, even by making their food appear to be the more virtuous choice for the appearance-concerned woman, is just plain bad business. But Yoplait certainly got a lot of press from this incident, so perhaps it worked out for them.

What do you think? Is this ad worth being pulled, or does it not really push your buttons?

Much love,
The Sheriff

links

The divide between academic feminists and activist feminists. I guess I fall on the activist side, although that always makes me think of people protesting and handing out pamphlets and I haven't done much of that since high school.

A peek into a demographic I frankly don't know much about intimately: why gay men don't get fat. Kinda sad, frankly.

Gala's two-part series on body pressure among fashion bloggers is interesting and eye-opening. Ain't nobody perfect!

Rich corporations will probably always like money more than gays. Sad trombone.

Have you seen the Real L World? I wasn't much of a fan of the first season....at all...but the second one is back and bringing you LOTS OF LESBIAN SEX. If you're into that sort of thing.

Untag this photo:  with new technologies (i.e. digital cameras, smartphones, and Facebook), "more women are aiding their own objectification while maintaining control over their image."

 An open letter to Victoria's Secret about how their marketing really target 15-year-old boys and not grown-ass women. Preach.

Much love,
The Sheriff

mothers, daughters, and scary body image

Almost every female I know has some sort of body image issue or link to their mother: sometimes it's just small things, like my inherited bad relationship with my tummy that all women in my family seem to have (it unites the generations, at least!) and sometimes it's more serious, like witnessing a mother figures descent into an eating disorder to hearing her criticism, aloud or implied, of your thighs or dessert choices. Some very lucky women learn from their moms a strong sense of not giving a fuck about this shit, and to them, I say: I'm jealous.

But in the news lately has been a lot of stories about moms, young daughters, and scary body image stuff. Like the Botox Mom, who claimed she was giving her eight-year-old daughter Botox injections (but now says she was making it all up). Or the Human Barbie mother, who gave her seven-year-old a voucher for breast implants (or another procedure, should she naturally grow awesome boobs) at age 16. According to the article, this kid also got a computer, pink Swarovski ring and matching necklace and a spa weekend for her birthday. Back in my day, we got a cake and a doll and we liked it. But I digress.

Naturally, stories like this are kind of scary and sensationalized, which is why we care about them. How could a mother possibly do these kinds of things to her daughter/lie about them for fame in such a way that we all believed it? How could a mom encourage her daughter to surgically alter her body before encouraging her to just fucking love it first, before going under the knife? And so on, with more generally worrying and judging and such.

I certainly do not condone the actions of these women: they're horrific and scary and hopefully not a harbinger of trends to come for our youngins. But women who have bought into the beauty myth so deeply like this are not necessarily to be blamed. Yes, it would be great if they could critically analyze the world around them and its obscenely difficult-to-uphold beauty standards and show their daughters another way to live, but clearly that ain't what's happening here. These women have just found a more extreme version of the truth we all grapple with: that beauty matters in terms of how you are treated. That being labeled fat or ugly or undesirable can make you incredibly vulnerable to harassment and mistreatment, especially as a kid but long into adulthood. Most of us know and accept this, that attractive people (however society currently and arbitrarily defines that) have it easier to an extent. And most parents only want to make their kid's life easier. I don't agree with these women's methods for doing that, but I do think to shake the finger at them when many of us do the same thing and uphold the same myths is harsh and hypocritical and not really helpful.

What do you think? Is these bitches just crazy, or is the world crazy?

Much love,
The Sheriff

25 years of marriage: some life and love lessons, care of Mama and Papa Sheriff

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Today is my parents' 25th wedding anniversary. They were both married (VERY young) to other people, both had a daughter with previous spouse, quickly divorced them and met each other. They worked at Geno's, a chicken and burger fast food chain local to the Philly area: my dad trained my mama, and asked her on a date. The rest is history.

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So I thought today I'd take a break from the sex and body image blogging and just share some things that my parents have said over the last few weeks that I've been home (not that they knew I was squirreling these things away to write about later).

Mama Sheriff says:

--Even after 25 years, he makes me laugh. He drives me crazy, but he makes me laugh.

--Whoever you end up marrying, or living with, or whatever, they're going to change. And you will too. But don't think things will always be the way they are at the beginning.

--I wish I was a lesbian. I can't wait to move to Northampton when Dad dies (yes, she has actually said this. Multiple occasions).

Papa Sheriff says:

--Your mom is hot.

Any good advice you've gotten from your parents, about love or otherwise?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday! links! for you!

I really like this white dude's response to the recent weird occurrences of white dudes pretending to be women in marginalized positions. Bravo!

Totally agree with VA here: we should reclaim the word "fat" as, at the very least, neutral.

IRS apologizes to gay folks for making tax season especially terrible. Good!

Incredibly offensive advice on dating a trans*guy. Wow. Wanna feel angry (or rather, even angrier after all the white dudes pretending to be not white dudes to make their viewpoints seem more valid)? Watch this.

Loved this post about Rihanna's new Man Down video. 

Anti-abortion billboards targeting Latinos now? Great. What will they think of next?

Much love,
The Sheriff

when a friend has an eating disorder: what to do, what to say, how to help

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 Eating disorders thrive in secrecy and lies. So what do you do when a friend or loved one is open about it, but not yet really committing to heal themselves? How can you possibly support someone while they destroy themselves? Because eating disorders, body image, and recovery are a few of my favorite things to talk about (along with sex, Smith College, and baby animals) and because I love breaking the secrecy and taboos that surround them, I get asked about this pretty frequently from lots of different people. Recently, a high school classmate sent me this:

This is a bit out of the blue, but I know from having read your blog and such that you have done an amazing job at overcoming an eating disorder. I could really use some advice. A close friend of mine has been bulimicfor  years. For awhile it stopped...or at least she stopped doing a lot. Recently it has gotten really bad. She is in therapy, but her bulimia seems to be coming second to other problems. So basically I need advice on what to say to her. She knows she has a problem, but says she can't stop. Recently she started telling me every time she throws up, so i know she is reaching out to help but I never know how to respond to her saying things like "my nail is really weak from all the stomach acid it touches" and "I've throw up all my food today." Advice?

My (slightly edited) response:

First of all, let me say your friend is clearly very lucky to have someone who cares a lot about her and is standing by even when things are rough. It can be really hard and scary to bear witness while someone you care about it participating in self destructive behaviors, so props on that.

That being said, it kinda sucks to be in your position in this scenario.

The best thing you can do (even though it feels helpless and is really hard!) is to listen openly and without judgment. Express your concern when appropriate ("Wow, your nails are really weak from stomach acid...that makes me worry about your health" except maybe said in a less cheesy and scripted way) and let her know that you support her in any efforts to get help and decrease/stop purging, but that it's also a behavior you hate. Bulimia is incredibly hard to stop once it's a regular behavior because it actually is physically addicting (the body releases endorphins after you puke), so I'm sure she genuinely does feel that she can't stop.

You should also be prepared for someone with an eating disorder to be lying to you at any moment about it, even if they've been honest in the past: for them, it's a very effective coping mechanism for the stresses of life/trauma/a million other things, and when a well-meaning someone threatens that coping strategy, they will most likely get defensive and lie to keep it protected, secret, and theirs. But be aware that it's not personal.

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But damn if those awkward statements of ED nastiness don't suck. I know I used to say a lot of fucked up shit too, not necessarily for attention per se, but just to have someone acknowledge that I was indeed sick and deserved help. In the moment of awkward statements...You can tell her straight up that you want her to continue being honest with you, AND that comments about her habits and their effects make you tremendously uncomfortable because you're not sure how to support her...and then ask how she wants you to support her. Often times, people with ED/addictions/any problem know what they need and want from their loved ones but don't know how or when to say it, so by opening that space you're doing your friend a huge favor.

Be clear on what you're willing to do to help her handle her urges to purge or skip meals or exercise unhealthily (i.e., maybe you'd be willing to talk to her on the phone when she gets an urge anytime, or you'd come over and paint her nails [a great method for me when I was getting over bulimia because I couldn't make yourself vom with polish all over!], help her find a treatment center for ED, whatever), and then make good on it. Make sure that it is indeed something you can commit to helping with, because there's nothing worse than them reaching out to you and you being unable/unwilling to follow through. Just woman up and tell them what you can feasibly do to support them.

Of course, in general it helps to model positive body image/attitudes towards food/avoid negative commentary on anyone's body/take care of your own mental health needs, but all of that is just fluff when someone is really sick. But it certainly will help you keep yourself in a healthy place, regardless of whether or not they're positively impacted by it.

Have you ever struggled with a friend with an ED and how to talk to them about it, especially when they went out of their way to mention it? How did you deal?

Much love,
The Sheriff

how to spot an eating disorder? weak, Marie Claire

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A story on the front cover Marie Claire magazine caught my eye: 5 ways to spot an eating disorder. Despite the strange verbage in that statement ("spot" an eating disorder? Sounds like a treasure hunt, and not a particularly fun one), I was very curious to see what they named. The magazine's resident dermatologist and psychiatrist, Dr. Amy Weschler, names the following as symptoms and behaviors to keep an eye on: a fine layer of body hair (also known as lanugo), yellow teeth, low self-esteem, lack of periods, and change in appearance.

I experienced all of the above during my years struggling with eating disorders, and know most women who have an ED experience at least one. So why do I have a problem with this article?

Because lanugo and a lack of menstruation are hallmarks of extreme and long-term anorexia, which while deadly and terrifying to watch, is very rare and far less common than bulimia, binge eating disorder (BED), and eating disorder not otherwise specified (EDNOS, the catchall term for individuals who are clearly sick with an eating disorder but don't meet the strict diagnostic criteria of anorexia, bulimia, or BED). The last three disorders are far less glamorous than anorexia and get less excitement and airplay in magazines, but they are just as unhealthy and have the potential to destroy lives and happiness to the same extent as starvation, and to not give the other diseases equal time in such an article is fucking unrealistic and a disservice to readers.

The yellow teeth is noted in regard to bulimia. But such a sympton is incredibly easy to fix (there are dozens of products on the market for teeth whitening), and many bulimics don't necessarily purge by vomiting (laxatives and exercise are also common means, and wouldn't be as easy to "spot" as yellowed teeth). Scared a friend is puking their food? If they chew a lot of gum, have chipmunk cheeks (from overstressed salivary glands), drink a lot of water with their food, and make excuses to visit the bathroom following meals, you might have something to worry about and discuss with them.

I do give them props for mentioning a lack of self-esteem, which can be a risk factor for many issues (drug/alcohol abuse, falling into unhealthy romantic relationships, etc.), not just eating disorders. And a change in appearance is tricky: many people with eating disorders fight to hide their changing shape when they realize it's become obvious that they've gained/lost significant weight, but it can be one indicator that something might be wrong.

Bottom line: If it worries you, it's worth a conversation. And on Wednesday, I'll give you some tips about how to do just that.

friday links

The 5 least romantic ways to maintain a relationship--my parents sleep separately and it's worked for 25 years!

This book sounds really fantastic, about how people are re-defining the institution of marriage to make it work for them. 

A poll now affirms what I already suspected: most people in my generation (so-called "milennials"--who thinks up this crap?) support a woman's right to choose and gay marriage. Yeah! They chalk it up to our different views on gender roles and sexual morality.

On a related note: watching Teen Mom or Sixteen and Pregnant may make you more sympathetic to abortion.

Why your stomach doesn't like health food.

One of the dead women from Kanye's horrific "Monster" music video talks about her experiences filming it.

I am apparently 3/4 man. No lie. Thanks Esquire!

Much love,
The Sheriff

clothes, class, and cleaning ladies: examining perceptions

other cleaning ladies might look like this...

The last few weeks since graduation, I've been working with my mama before my real work begins. Cleaning houses on the Main Line of Philadelphia, specifically. It's quite the experience in any manner of things (learning just how much dirt you can tolerate in someone else's home before you judge them, realizing their three-year-old uses more expensive shampoo than you do, coming up with a polite way to tell them you won't make the bed anymore if they continue to leave soiled panties in it), but lately, it's been wildly educational in terms of how others treat you within that community based on your appearance.

but I usually look like this (minus the shades. And money, of course)

 Clothing can signify a variety of things: mood, style, ethnicity, comfort with revealing skin, and most pertinent to this post, job/income. While my Mama wears polo shirts and old jeans, I wear ratty workout clothes (certainly not the pricey Lululemon yoga pants favored in those parts, more like worn-out, accidentally  bleached tee shirts and ill-fitting shorts) and we both generally smell of Lysol after a long day's work. It is clear that we are outsiders in this land of Lily Pulitzer and BMWs, and I'm generally fine with that. I labor, I make my money, I leave.

But, per usual, the Sheriff can't go anywhere without getting pissed about some sort of -ism.

While shopping in these uber-wealthy neighborhoods, our clothes clearly reveal our lower economic station and particular occupation. Costco, in particular, seems to bring out the rudeness and classism hidden in these folks. Costco is a weird place on the Main Line: despite the fact that it's whole premise is about buying in bulk to save money (like Sam's or BJ's), it's always packed and the customers are incredibly rude to each other, but especially towards us. Cutting people off with carts and jumping in line is par for the course, as is rudely demanding items and assistance from the staff. They have actually sneered at my mother and I (even more pronounced as I run to get the free samples of food), swaggering about in our dirty work clothes while they are crisply ironed and coiffed. We have even been approached in Costco TWICE by people looking for cleaning ladies (one woman indicated she wanted us specifically because we spoke English. Charming). It's that obvious that we don't belong, and the treatment given decidedly reveals that.

Talking to the poor folks who work at this particular location reveals that while at normal Costco locations, the customers are required to bring their coupons with them to get their discount, at this store, people put up such a fuss that they just automatically give everyone the discount to avoid a fight with a prick, trippin' on their own privilege. Costco is also the only place on the Main Line that I have ever seen Hispanic or black people...and they're all working there. They're also nice to Mama Sheriff and I. Is it because they know we also commute an hour to work in those gilded neighborhoods? Or is just because they have to be kind to make their hourly wage? I'll never know, but I appreciate it nonetheless while I'm in (what feels like) hostile territory.

Let it be said, however, that the vast majority of my Mama's actual clients are wonderful people: I have babysat their children, housesat for them, fed their horses, and she has been to their weddings and christenings. Which clearly indicates that once you know someone well enough, differences of economic stature and education don't have to be dividing lines. But at least out in public, with poorly dressed strangers, many people don't give that a chance to occur.

Have you ever been treated poorly because of your appearance? Or, have you ever judged someone and maybe treated them crappy based on theirs? Talk to me.

Much love,
The Sheriff

30 years later.

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Yesterday marked the 30th anniversary of first formal medical report on the disease that we know today as AIDs. It's hard for me to imagine, having been born in 1989 and all, a world without a fear of contracting death through sexual contact with people we love.

Despite the increased awareness and research and ever-evolving treatments for HIV and AIDs, every year 50,000 Americans are infected with HIV according to the CDC. 50,000 people. And that's in America alone, where many people are educated about how the disease is contracted. The stats on other countries where stigmas about the disease often prevent people from access to adequate information and care are absolutely staggering.

So with these startling numbers, I ask you to do a little reading today somewhere else on the World Wide Web. Read some testimonials of people living (and often thriving!) with HIV. Read about the stats, the research, how you can help through donations, read and develop some compassion for these infected individuals who are not really that different from you. But most of all, please read about how to protect yourself. And then, for the love of God, go out and fuckin' do it. No one thinks they're the kind of person to get HIV, and that's a stereotype we need to smash. We are all vulnerable. Get tested, use barrier methods, practice safer needle use. Do what it takes to keep yourself and your loved ones safe.

Much love,
The Sheriff