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* I am one of those magical unicorns who suppresses her period with hormonal birth control. I do this for three reasons:
1. I prefer not to bleed out of my vagina for several days each month;
2. I prefer not to experience menstrual cramps for several days each month;
3. I really fucking prefer not to have my emotional reactions reduced to popular culture’s pseudo-scientific understanding of my menstrual cycle for several days each month. Case in point: “Code Red,” a new iPhone app for men that allows them to chart our cycles, helping them to predict when we’ll be horny, when we’ll be bitchy, and when we’ll bleed on their penises, I guess? Fuck it: I’d rather not have a menstrual cycle at all than risk the possibility of having my righteous bitchiness be discounted as irrational, that-time-of-the-month bitchiness.
* Via Feministing: Performance artist Ivan E. Coyote‘s love-letter to femmes.
* Also on Feministing, an anonymous essay on how passing as heterosexual can complicate a queer woman’s relationship with her community.
* Heartless Doll arguesagainst prom, as the practice largely functions as a creepy and exclusionary mass High School Wedding. Co-sign.
* Consent and hair cuts.
* On Nerve, guy loses his virginity by hiring a “sex surrogate” . . . the same sex surrogate employed by his also-virginal roommate, Scott:
Later, when Scott got home from his own “getting acquainted” session, we realized we both had the same surrogate. Maybe Dr. Klein had planned it that way for some mysterious therapeutic reason. Or maybe Jan was the only surrogate who worked for him. Either way, once Jan found out that Scott and I were roommates, she sensed our natural competitiveness and played us off each other. She would fill us in on each other’s sessions, telling us how well the other had performed. Sometimes, she would make it sound like we were getting away with something, going beyond our prescribed allotment of sex. “Oh, we shouldn’t be doing this,” she would tease. “Don’t tell Scott, it’ll be our little secret.” After our sessions, we’d brag about our milestones. Soon, it became unclear which was more important — losing my virginity or beating Scott.