Much of the attraction between the sexes is chemistry. New studies suggest that when women use hormonal contraceptives, such as birth-control pills, it disrupts some of these chemical signals, affecting their attractiveness to men and women’s own preferences for romantic partners.
*I’ve actually know about this for over a year. My Physical Anthropology instructor was very firm on the fact that women who want to have the healthiest children possible should get off hormonal contraception. Her preferred option was a mechanical IUD. I’ve been thinking about this for myself, but I’d have to do a month long experiment. Full disclosure: I only have half an ovary as I had ovarian cysts, not the polycystic kind, and had to have them surgically removed. Birth control has been a hormone replacement for me for the past few years. I don’t know if I can go off it, even if I’d like to.
Fashion blogging is a beautiful jumble. There aren’t really any rules; everyone gallops around with their own perspectives, & anything goes. The thing we all love most about blogging — & fashion blogging especially — is the variety of viewpoints we’re exposed to on a daily basis.
But did you ever look around & notice that the most popular bloggers are, well, pretty slim? Did you notice that the bloggers who get the most exposure, or work with the biggest brands, are often the same people?
I can only surmise from our recent interaction that I startled you in the women’s washroom at the mall today. I guess I don’t look much like what you seem to think a female washroom user should.
This is not the first time this has happened to me; in fact, this was not the first time this happened to me this week. Forgive me if I was not as patient with you as you seemed to feel I should have been, but I would like to point out that your high-pitched squeal startled me, and I needed to urinate very badly. Perhaps I was not as gracious as I could have been.
To ensure that the next time this happens to you, or me, things go more smoothly for everyone involved, I have jotted down a couple of notes for your reference.
Not everyone fits easily into one of the two options provided on your standard public washroom doors. In my world, gender is a spectrum, not a binary. Just because an individual does not present as what you feel a woman should look like does not mean that person does not belong there.
Public washrooms are just that: public. This means that you do not get to decide whom you share them with. I would like to remind you that everyone, regardless of their gender identity or presentation, needs to pee.
For some of us, public washrooms are stressful places. We generally avoid them whenever possible. Please, rest assured that if I have chosen to enter a public washroom in spite of my long and arduous history with them, I have taken the time to note which door I am about to walk into, and that I am confident I have chosen the lesser of two evils.
I am, in fact, hyper aware of which bathroom I am in. It is not necessary for you to stare at me, pointedly refer to the graphic on the door or discuss my decision loudly with your companions. Gawking, elbowing your friend and repeatedly clearing your throat are also not helpful. Trust me, I will be in and out as quick as is humanly possible.
The next time this happens to you, I would like you to think twice before screaming. I would like you to imagine what it feels like to be me. Imagine being screeched at by a perfect stranger. Now imagine being screeched at when you really need to pee, or your tampon gave out 20 minutes ago. Sucks, doesn’t it?
I want you to know that I understand wanting to feel safe from men while using the bathroom in a public place. This is, in fact, the primary reason I don’t just use the other bathroom. That, and I have a very delicate sense of smell and don’t like returning filthy toilet seats to the down position.
I also would like you to know that trans and genderqueer people suffer from many more bladder infections, urinary tract issues and general pee–related health problems than the general population. I humbly ask you to consider why this might be the case.
I would also like you to know that I have had the great pleasure of spending time with seven-year-old and eight-year-old tomboys lately. Both young girls have experienced serious bullying at school and day camp over their gender presentation, especially in and around the question of gendered bathrooms. They have both come home from school in tears, and one of them even quit science camp because of it.
Hearing that these two sweet, kind, amazing children have already experienced “the bathroom problem” that I so often face myself not only broke my heart, it enraged me. I feel that this type of bullying has impeded their ability to access a public education, and affected their desire to participate in valuable activities outside of school as well.
I would like you to consider how this might affect their self-esteem, their grades and their sense of self-worth. I remind you that they are just little kids. They are only in elementary school, and it has started already. Not such a little thing after all, is it?
I ask you to forgive me my impatience with you at the mall today. But how could I possibly not think of my two little friends and feel anything but rage?
See, when you scream at me without thinking in the women’s washroom, you are implicating yourself in a rigid, two-party gender system that tells others it is okay to discriminate against people like me. Even little children who are like me.
This is the very same attitude that results in queer youth suicides and high school murderers being acquitted because the dead boy asked for it by wearing a skirt and makeup. It is this same attitude that turns its head when trans women are shot at by off-duty police officers and denied services at women’s shelters. It is this kind of sentiment that says it is okay to deny us housing, or a job, or the right to adopt children or dance on a freaking reality television show.
If you think I am making any of this up, then I encourage you to open up your newspaper and have another look.
I would like to remind you that this very same two-party gender system is enforced on me and others like me every day, policed by people just like you. It starts very young, and sometimes is subtle, as small as a second look on the way out of a bathroom stall, but sometimes it is deafening, and painful, and violent — even murderous.
So, the next time you meet up with someone like me in the “ladies’ room,” please think twice before screaming. I am not there by accident. In fact, I spent a lot more time looking at the sign on the door than you ever have.
Scandals of Classic Hollywood: Clark Gable, the Scandal That Wasn't
Clark Gable married five times, slept with nearly all of his co-stars, and cheated on everyone. In just about every movie in which he plays the romantic lead, he cajoles, spanks, slaps, or otherwise mistreats the object of his affection. In other words, he’s a bastard, but he’s one steamy bastard. And he challenged the image of the leading man in 1930s Hollywood, offering a barrel-chested alternative to the fleet-footed likes of Fred Astaire and Cary Grant. He looked very much as if someone had taken a swarthy pirate, given him a facial, parted his hair to the side, trimmed his mustache, and put him in tails. Years before Brando popularized the menace and gravitas that characterized a new generation of male stars, there was Gable, and shit did he smolder.
It’s so California can’t take away Wiccan/Pagan rights under Freedom of Religion, which means that Pagan/Wiccans would be able to get fired from their jobs for the religions, and discriminated against in many other ways that would be legal.
It would mean a lot to me.
Please sign this. It would mean so much to me since I live in California and I’m a Wiccan. <3
Just went to my closet to grab the shirt I’ve been meaning to alter, and counted up all my shirts. I have 30. And this is after a ton of culling this year. I guess I will be getting rid of even more this weekend.
This has been a week for luxuriating in three specific songs. Jeff Buckley’s version of “Strange Fruit,” Jennifer Titus’ version of “O Death,” and Emilie Autumn’s version of “Gloomy Sunday.” I sense a theme here…
An engineering professor is treating her husband, a loan officer, to dinner for finally giving in to her pleas to shave off the scraggly beard he grew on vacation. His favorite restaurant is a casual place where they both feel comfortable in slacks and cotton/polyester-blend golf…
If you are planning on participating, make sure your last tumblr post the night beforehand is “BRB Blackout”, so people know why you are gone. Also, please reblog this post so that as many people as possible know when the…