friday links

Did you know that the Williams sisters kick ass? Yup. They do.

The GOP really makes it rain, according to Tampa area strippers. 

Some interesting reflections on balance.

This is a bit old now but so so good: rape fatigue and when there's just no anger left. 

This is horrible--woman told not to breastfeed at work because it's nasty and she might spew everywhere.

Much love,
The Sheriff

a new chapter for the sheriff: celibacy

Sex has often been a space of empowerment for me, as you may have gathered from this here lil blog. It's not something I've had much shame or embarrassment about, and something I love to advise people on.

And for now, it's something I'm taking a wee break from for a while. Four months, precisely.

Why would I deprive myself of something that I truly enjoy and that I find an empowering experience? Why does anyone deprive themselves of something they enjoy? To grow and be a better person and to have new things to bitch about to their friends.

Because of changes in my relationship status that are (hopefully!) temporary, I've decided I'm going to stay celibate for four months. This also means no phone number getting and text flirting and all that malarkey. My objective here is to keep things from making my life excessively murky and crowded with people in a way that is not really fun or fulfilling to me right now, but also because I need mental space and time--there's no need to bring dick into the picture.

I'm particularly curious about how this impacts my relationship to my body and myself, given that sex has been a pretty large part of my life throughout my entire adolescence and young adulthood so far, and I want to use this blog as a space to explore that and discuss it and see what changes occur. I'm excited about this. Because I'm doing this as a choice and not because of shame or guilt or in pursuit of some fucked up notion of purity, there's a sense of freedom in this commitment and that's where I'm at with it right now. We'll see if things change.

But don't worry. I won't be going anywhere, despite the planned lack of fornicating. I might even wind up blogging more than normal because of the deprivation!

 Have you ever pursued a self-imposed break from sex? Or has a drought had some surprising side effects?

Much love,
The Sheriff

Friday links

I need a puppy. Here's why.


Some fun myths about female anatomy!

Unrelated to feminism and fornicating, but a great read nonetheless--how gun violence in Philly is creating a whole generation of traumatized people.

This post is phenomenal, about dealing with meta self esteem. READ IT. 

Here in PA, a law was passed that regulates voters by requiring them to have an ID to vote. Not a big deal, right? Except that is disproportionately affects people who vote Democrat. Here's a guide to all the coverage on this important topic.

This woman married young and is ashamed of it. Good read!

A cool photo history of abortion law in the U.S.


Enjoy the weekend!
Much love,
The Sheriff

desirability and self-esteem: the danger of trusting beauty to the eye of the beholder

As we all know by now, a lady's number one goal in life is to be wanted, be pretty, and to be thin (having babies is a close second. Your uterus calls, woman!). This is reinforced to us by our women's magazines that pair the articles on how to raise your self-esteem with how to camouflage your gross body, by men's magazines that illustrate verbally and visually all that is wrong with you, and just everyday life.

That sarcastic critique aside...it's understandable why most of us want to feel desirable, to feel desired by someone. There is little else sexier on this planet than feeling like someone wants you. And it informs our self-esteem, like it or not.

source

But unfortunately, the pursuit of this feeling puts the power in the hands of others. Sometimes those others are people who care for you and your well-being, like a significant other or consistent and nice fuck buddy. But sometimes it means putting your own desirability into the hands of random people, like the frat boys on the bus who are (not so subtly) checking you out, or the guidos who yell out of their Mitsubishi, "Whoa, look at those tits!" (Which may or may not have happened to me waiting to cross the street in Atlantic City last wee). And that's sad and gross.

Furthermore, BEAUTY FADES. We can't control it as much as we'd like to believe we can, despite the magical powers and products of Sephora. As pointed out in Sarah Von's great post on What's The Point of Pretty?, it fades (according to society's youth-centered definition) each day and there's nothing you can do to preserve it precisely as it is.

And trying to fit into this mold of desirability holds us back in so many small but heartbreaking ways. It tears us down and we can't do anything about it if we keep giving ourselves away.

So what to do? Take it back! It's not easy to stop wanting attention and wanting to feel desirable, especially given all the conditioning and reinforcement ladies receive for it. But if you focus on doing the things that make you feel desirable and wanted, not the performance of what you think you should do, you're on the right track. Better yet, form a personality and full life so compelling, you won't have too much energy left to focus on if you're meeting the hotness requirements of the random strangers you meet in bars.

Do you ever fall into this desirability trap? Talk to me.

Much love,
The Sheriff

"just playin'"--sexual harassment and pressure in the workplace

My freshman year of life was spent in a largely male-dominated environment--specifically, a beefy black man environment. Given my role in life as a petite, busty, blonde, there was natural humor to be found in the contrast between their role and appearance in the workplace and mine. A bro-like relationship developed.

the best picture of "bros" I could find

There was often a lot of joking, some of it related to sex and bodies...which of course led to some directed at the Sheriff's outrageous shape. Given the fact that it is my workplace, I didn't disclose that I've been writing a blog about sex that includes stories of my VCH piercing or attempts at anal, but I can't hide my body, no matter how hard I try. Most of the jokes were presumably good-natured or at the very least not ill-intentioned, and some of them were even funny! But sometimes, I just felt uncomfortable. Having your butt or boobs verbally poked at gets old, at best. I started to wonder why sexual harassment/sexual annoyance when men get in groups is so damn common.

From what I've gathered and surmised, it looks like men bond over sexualizing women. Boys clubs are all about bonding over sexualizing women. Being able to comfortably talk to and bond with the men at my work is important to me, but why does blending in and being successful mean acting like a dude?

Because! As we all know, any subordinated group has to conform to the dominant group's ways in order to be seen and be successful. This ranges from women having to wear boring, sexless suits to work to be taken seriously or the Williams sisters' wearing of beads on the tennis court being criticized as inappropriate.

So how do I point out that sometimes it makes me uncomfortable without being a shrill harpy? I think changing the subject simply is the best way. Sometimes the jokes are genuinely funny, so changing the subject or gently pointing out that I don't want to hear that should be reserved for the more obnoxious situations.

What do you do about this? Ever encounter it in your world?

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

In case you were under a rock: Todd Akin's insanely preposterous and wrong comments about how when a woman is legitimately raped, her body will "shut down" a pregnancy. Because SCIENCE. 

From Eve Ensler: Dear Todd Akin (fun fact: I hugged Eve Ensler at an event at Smith. It was awesome).

Could I be pregnant? flowchart (warning: it's not scientific, like Todd Akin's views on rape).

Shocking! Romney has no support from black voters.

Just in case you were feeling too secure about yourself--here's everything that dudes think is wrong with you.

Much love,
The Sheriff

lessons from the freshman year of life

As many of ya'll know, the Sheriff (yours truly) went to Smith College, the land of feminism and liberalism and far too many nose rings. Looking back, everything is in some sort of Instagram style filter--I ate exotic foods downtown! I debated the important of gender and class until 3AM! I had #whitegirlcollegeproblems! Even as I juggled part-time jobs and occasional douche bag significant other woes, life was good.

And it came to an end. And I stumbled into the Real World during one of the worst recessions since the Depression, with about $35K in debt and a terribly UNspecific plan to do important things that mattered, fabulously. The freshman year of life was tumultuous, no doubt about it. I over-drafted my account far more than I'd like to admit, wasted time and energy on men who were so far from right, and endured my first actual back pain from late night lesson planning. But I also signed my first lease, learned how to use the Philly subway, and enjoyed some incredible late night dancing, all while inching ever so slightly closer to figuring out my purpose in life.

Some lessons and reflections from this year, some of which I'm still processing:

--It's okay to still not know what you want to do in life. But forward motion is what matters. Be proactive, do research, explore some options. Take some risks! It's terrifying in this economy to abandon a well-paying gig for the unknown, so I'm not advocating putting yourself in the poorhouse, but this process of finding your way towards work and a life that fulfills you is the important part, not just reaching the destination of ultimate success and fulfillment that we imagine is waiting at the end of the rainbow.

--On that note: having a big, scary notion of success that motivates you in a positive way is exhilarating and wonderful. But it's really far more important to try to ditch those definitions of success that make you feel like you're a failure or not enough. To quote Kate of Eat The Damn Cake (which I'm clearly obsessed with), "I think about it like this: GOLD MEDAL NOBEL PEACE PRIZE PULITZER A MILLION DOLLARS GIANT BOOK DEAL HOUSEHOLD NAME SUPERMODEL MOVIE STAR EVERYONE IN THE WORLD LOVES YOU MORE THAN THEY LOVE THEIR KIDS." I usually think of success like this too. It doesn't help that my parents are mildly disappointed by the fact that I'm not at least a Senator of a small state yet. And it's doing me absolutely NO GOOD. Click here to read more of that excerpt from ETDC. Seriously. Do it.

--Know your checking account balance. Err'day. Overdraft fees suck.

--Find the things that you loved about college and try to re-create them in whatever place you're in now. Loved having a community of women? Reach out to people who live near you, or nurture the friendships you already have developed. Missing the thirsty Thursdays? Make sure that you enjoy after work happy hours! Wish you still had that intellectual stimulation? Join a class or go to lectures at a nearby campus.

--Give yourself time to be by yourself. It'll let you figure things out, like what's really important to you and what hobbies you actually like when you're not busy avoiding writing papers.

--RELAX. There is actually no deadline by which you must have your life figured out or else be branded a failure (none that anyone's told me about yet!). There are lots of ways to live an incredible and fulfilling life that makes you happy without it being totally perfect. You will get there. And I will to.

What've you learned this year, freshman year of life or not?

Much love,
The Sheriff