Woe is me!

Deep apologies for the lack of posting! I have a bunch of exciting things to blog about but there was this little hurricane named Sandy that swept through Philly, and now my laptop has taken an electronic dump on me so all posting has ground to a halt.

I'll be back soon! I hope.

Much love,
The Sheriff

vacation for illness

Hey ya'll,

The Sheriff is going to take a wee break this week from blogging, thanks to a debilitating illness that keeps morphing on my ass like a shapeshifter. I need some time to do more sleeping and fluid drinking, so have a nice week, and I'll see you here next Monday!

Much love,
The Sheriff

friday links

Recovery A-Z...I really like this post. It's honest. Recovery ain't for sissies.

Traits associated with eating disorders are also seen commonly in highly successful people...no shock there for me, but it's nice to have science to confirm my suspicions.

Ever wonder what causes eating disorders? Is it culture, genetics, environment?


Much love,
The Sheriff

lack of sex and self esteem: the power of choice

As you may have read, the Sheriff is giving celibacy the ol' college try. And seeing as no one is aggressively throwing sex in my general direction, it hasn't been too difficult. Kinda lonely, as we move into cuddling season, but not hard in and of itself (there's a dick pun in that sentence. I'll leave the mystery intact and let you find it). Celibacy really increasing my sense of pride and self-esteem. Which is a reversal of how it felt early on. Let me explain.

Like many, many, many people, I like feeling wanted and desirable and like I'm worth someone's time.And when someone chooses you so clearly, it's easy to let that distract you out of who you are and who you are when you're alone and what matters to you. This amnesia afflicts lots of young people (though it's not just limited to the follies of youth) when we're in that phase where who we are is still crystallizing and it's easy to fall into a relationship with someone and start to become who they want you to be or who you think they want you to be. I realized that it was easy for me to wind up somehow in one relationship after another, all of which were fine and decent and taught me things about myself...but only one of which in the last six years I can say I really, consciously chose. And that's a shame because to me, one of the central tenets of feminism and being a modern lady of sorts is that we choose how we live and the things we do--we choose when to have kids, where to live, whether or not to take our partner's last name in marriage, whether or not to get married at all or to spend your days with a cat in a one-bedroom apartment, perfectly fulfilled anyway.


Not flirting with and fucking has actually increased my self-esteem and sense of pride considerably--I'm choosing this, consciously. And when I do choose to have sex again, that'll be a conscious choice too. And I feel pretty damn good about that.

Much love,
The Sheriff

an ode to my legs

Kate of Eat the Damn Cake regularly does an un-roast at the end of each post, where she praises a body part or feature of hers. In that spirit, I'm taking this Monday to praise my legs.

From the age of three onward, I wanted to be a ballerina. I was not necessarily a graceful child, and spent most of my time running around in the woods with no shoes on, talking to myself and scraping my knees, but at the barre, in front of the mirror in my leotard, I felt elegant (except that I was three and didn't know what that meant). Dance has been a part of my life ever since, and it's always been a space where my legs serve me well--fast moving, strong, sure of themselves.

They've changed drastically over the years--pudgy and childlike as a kid, stick thin and lean during the eating disorder years, then strong and solid again. They're not long and sexy like a Victoria's Secret model sashaying down the runway. I've had Marvel compliment them for being "short and strong," which is code for stocky and squat. And while there are definitely more graceful ways to express that, I actually like that they're stocky. I could pick them out of a lineup--they hold their own on the leg press machine, and always impress me with their flexibility. Even now, when they're decidedly more jiggly than perhaps ever before, I like them. They're not perfect, but they're entirely, wholly mine.


Do you have a body part you love, despite it's non-conventional features?

Much love,
The Sheriff

celibacy updates

It's been about six weeks since I've gotten any action from anyone besides my $90 vibrator (sidebar: a worthwhile investment), and I've learned a few things.

My loneliness factor has increased quite a bit. I've got plenty of friends and family and work and hobbies to fill my time. I'm not depressed. I just really do miss the sex, the whole bit of it: the foreplay and the tension and the release and the warm body next to me afterwards.

Sex is a way of connecting the is profound and exquisite when done right, and pathetic and weak when it's not. It's sort of similar to food--you can have a delicious, healthy, warm meal that fills you up and makes you feel energetic and strong, or you can have cheap, queasy-inducing crap from the convenience store that fills you up once in a while but makes you feel coma-like and fat later. Maybe that analogy's a stretch, but I stand by it. The thought of breaking my celibacy streak for junk-food sex makes me sad and even more resistant to gettin' it in with anyone.


That's where I'm at with it so far.

Any questions on avoiding dick or what it's like or advice on how to keep it up?

Much love,
The Sheriff

Friday Links

Feminist movements are key to creating big change? Who knew?!

I love this child.

You know that cute D-day picture of the sailor and nurse kissing? Reading this made me realize it's actually gross and sad.

Surely you've heard about Romney's animosity for Sesame Street. Here's some amazing sad Sesame Street images.

Much love,
The Sheriff