Being Amber Rhea

Sucking on Lollipops

Yeah, yeah, this article from Ms. Magazine is from fall 2004. Guess I’m late to the party; so sue me.

Your body is a wrapped lollipop.

When you have sex with a man, he unwraps your lollipop and sucks on it.

It may feel great at the time, but, unfortunately, when he’s done with you, all you have left for your next partner is a poorly wrapped, saliva-fouled sucker.

These words were actually uttered by Darren Washington, an abstinence educator, at the Eighth Annual Abstinence Clearinghouse Conference, an informational three-day trade show for abstinence educators, anti-abortion pregnancy care centers and medical professionals.

Wow. Truly stellar stuff there. Jesus H. Tap-Dancing Christ, what is this country coming to??

On the one hand, the lollipop metaphor made me laugh so hard I had to stop and catch my breath. But on the other hand… there are sinister forces at work here. Let’s “unwrap” this metaphor a little, shall we? There’s the obvious heterocentric bias (“when you have sex with a man…”) and the usual man-as-active, woman-as-passive BS (“…he unwraps your lollipop and sucks on it” [guffaw!]). Aside from all that shit (which is to be expected from the Christocrats), what the FUCK are we trying to teach teens (especially young women)?? That your self-worth is measured solely by your sexual activities? That sex “fouls” you? Well, that is just AWESOME! We’re going to have a generation of thoroughly well-adjusted, self-assured young people coming up, aren’t we?!

Expect a longer, more involved post on the abstinence-only BS at a later date. I want to really get my thoughts together and formulate something approaching the format of a college essay. (Yes, I’m a goddamn nerd. Deal with it.) Just had to rant a little for now. In other news, I had sex in a church parking lot last night.

Chillaxin’?

Apparently that is exactly what I do 2-3 nights a week. Huh.

Courtesy of Brent’s camera phone.

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

Second place last night, again. But the good news is, Seat of Our Pants (again, not their team name this week; but I’m getting to that) did not place. Their brief interlude as defending champions must’ve been nice while it lasted; I hope they savored it, ’cause it’s never going to happen again.

The Douche Wranglers took first place; we, of course, took second; and the Hispanics Playing Hide the WMD with the Olsen Twins (clever, guys) took third. Which is pretty funny in light of one of their team members coming over in the 4th quarter to talk smack about how it would be impossible for us to beat them.

This week, Seat of Our Pants called themselves The Olsen Twins Like it Greek – which, apparently, is a sex industry term for accepting deliveries at the service entrance. LAME.

I will just reiterate Thomas’s point here:

It is one thing to incorporate another team’s name into your own like we so skillfully did. It is quite another to just assume that other team’s name entirely.

I don’t freakin’ care if people want to try to villify us by putting “Olsen Twins” in their name (and plus, the Hispanics [insert topical reference] actually KNOW us, so it’s kind of different)… but at least put it in the latter part of your team name, otherwise it just causes confusion. Every time Kelly read the standings, he had to take special care to clarify, “They’re your defending champions” or “They’re the team at the bar.” Gah.

Now the question (posed by Josh) is: should we try to incorporate “seat of our pants” into our team name next week, or do we not want to stoop to their level? (Although, Dirty Nutjob probably has trouble with stooping in general… -oh, did I say that out loud? My bad…)

Your useless trivia fact of the day: the two types of barometers are mercury and aneroid.

Birthday Blogging

Happy 25th birthday to the fabulous Niki Sol. Commence ruminations on life, the universe, and everything… now.

Since I couldn’t find the picture that I wanted to put up, of Niki and I from her 16th birthday party, this one will have to do:

(click for larger picture)

Sure, Jenny may hold the title of Village Whore Junky Slutbunny, but that’s a mere formality.

I love you, mtani. :) Welcome to the Quarter of a Century Club.

Holden Caulfield? Not quite.

Rusty has a goddamn theme going this week. If you are so inclined, feel free to participate on your own blog, goddammit.

Why am I not participating, you may ask? Well, it’s not performance anxiety that’s stopping me… -oh, who am I kidding, that’s exactly what it is. I really doubt I’d be able to maintain 20 ‘goddamns’ per post for the entire week. That’s a tall order, by anyone’s standards.

A Long, Personal Meme

Patrick tagged me with this meme, so I’d better not let him down.

I’ll also put this on my bio page, which desperately needs to be updated, whenever I have a free moment. There are quite a few questions that have remained unanswered for over a month.

1. What were three of the stupidest things you have done in your life?

   I know it will sound like a cop-out, or like I’m incredibly snobbish. But I don’t have an answer for this. No, it’s not that I think I’ve never done anything stupid. Despite what some might think, I’m actually one of the least self-absorbed people I know, and am in fact self-deprecating to a fault at times. I guess it’s just that I interpret “stupid things” to mean things one might regret – and all the things in my life that I could regret, I don’t, because I have learned something from every experience, and they have shaped who I am.

   That being said, there is one thing that will always cause a little pang of regret each time I think of it. It might sound silly to some of you. But here it is. One time in 2001, a neighbor’s cat attacked a baby bird. I went outside when I heard the ruckus – the mother bird was swooping overheard, freaking out – and found the injured bird. I brought the bird inside and put him in a small box cushioned with towels. I didn’t know what to do or who to call. I poured over the phone book and the internet. I found a place called Wildlife Refuge or something… they were affiliated with UGA. I called and got an answering machine; I left a shaky message. Then I called Animal Control, because I didn’t know if anyone would call back from the UGA place, or if so, how long it would be. Animal Control said they could come get the bird, and I said okay – even though part of me knew they would probably kill him. Shortly thereafter, a woman from the UGA place called back. I told her I’d already told Animal Control to come over, and she confirmed what I’d suspected – that they would just “put him down.” She admitted that they (her organization) might not be able to save him. But I just felt so incredibly guilty. I was racked with guilt as I watched Animal Control take the little bird away. I cried for probably an hour after that – and then more when Chris got home and I recounted the story. To this day I wish I hadn’t called Animal Control, and had instead waited for someone from the UGA place to call back.

2. At the current moment, who has the most influence in your life?

   Jenny and Niki. :) They don’t “influence” my life in the sense that that they tell me what to do; but they are my sounding board, and my unwavering support system. Without these two lovely ladies willing to listen to me cry, rant, complain, fret, question, and ramble, I don’t know where I’d be today. I’d certainly be in a pretty fucked-up emotional state!
   

3. If you were given a time machine that functioned, and you were allowed to only pick up to five people to dine with, who would you pick?
   • Jesus (yes, seriously)
   • Eleanor Roosevelt
   • Albert Einstein
   • Margaret Sanger
   • Tim Berners-Lee (Yeah, I know, he’s not dead or anything… but it’s highly unlikely that I’ll ever dine with him. So maybe this time machine also functions as a “put-me-in-the-right-place-at-the-right” time machine).
4. If you had three wishes that were not supernatural, what would they be?
   • I wish that Jenny, Niki, Dipika, and I all lived in the same city. -Although, Dipika will be moving here in a few months, so that’s one out of three… now help me work on the others, Dipika! ;)
   • I wish for realistic, comprehensive sexual education in our schools. I wish for contraception that’s so accessible that it’s taken for granted. I wish for the end of sexual stigmas, so that we can talk about sex as freely and openly as we talk about the most mundane subjects of the day. I wish for an end to the still prevalent sexual double standard. I wish for the Christocrats to stop imposing their will on the country as a whole, thus leading to an ignorant young adult population – and therefore more disease and unintended pregnancies.
   • I fervently wish that the American people would wake up and realize they’re being prison-raped by George W. Bush and his goons. I want people to start asking the questions that need to be asked, and demand accountability and real answers from this godawful administration, instead of letting them talk shit about “liberals” (as if that’s a bad word) while they get away with murder. (Yes, literally.) I do not understand the fucked-up mentality that leads to the American people bending over and taking it – and thinking they’re being done a favor!
5. Someone is visiting your hometown/place where you live at the moment. Name two things you regret your city not having, and two things people should avoid.

   I wish Atlanta had:

   • An actual practical, functional public transportation system. (The dream is alive… sigh…)
   • Penguins in the zoo.

   If you come to Atlanta, you should avoid:

   • Buckhead on a Friday or Saturday night.
   • The ‘burbs.
6. Name one event that has changed your life.

   Well, it’s hardly a secret anymore, so I feel free to use it as my answer. On New Year’s Day 2003, I found out that my husband felt that he was a woman trapped in a man’s body, and wanted to pursue gender transition. And just like that, my entire world fell apart. No, I didn’t blog about it. I felt like I was dying from the inside out – but somehow I kept face. I never let on, to anyone other than my therapist and my closest friends, that everything had been turned upside down and I was walking around day to day with a constant, stabbing pain inside. I didn’t even tell my parents until December 2003. And somehow, amidst the spiraling, turbulent shitstorm of every imaginable (and some unimaginable) emotion and crying more than I’d ever thought possible, I managed to finish my Master’s degree, move to Texas by myself for a new job, decide that the job (and the state) wasn’t for me, find a job in Atlanta, and move back to Georgia.

   In many ways I’m still working through all the shit that came out of this. But after two and a half years, I think I’ve done pretty damn well for myself. I wouldn’t wish the pain and turmoil I experienced on anyone. But it’s part of who I am now – and if anything good came out of this, it’s that it reminded me of just how strong I am, and that I can survive what felt like death and come out the other side a more self-assured person.

7. Tag 5 people.

   This whole “tagging” aspect of memes is new to me. Anyway, I shall tag sangeet, Jen, Rusty, Tony, and Garrett. And, hell, anyone else who read this whole damn thing. Limiting it to 5 people stresses me out because it makes it seem like a popularity contest (or maybe that’s just my OCD tendencies showing).

Yeah. So there you have it.

Check It

I finally got around to fixing – er, hacking – my stylesheet, so my layout displays correctly in IE. It actually didn’t take that long to do, which was a pleasant surprise. Just had to add some Tan Hack stuff to body and #sidebar, and a clearing div after the comments and category links in .blogEntry.

If you’re using IE (why, why??) and it still looks funky to you, try emptying your cache.

As I currently don’t have access to a working Mac (yes, I’m blogging from work – gasp!) I don’t know what it looks like in Safari, but I’m sure it’s fine. IE/Mac… well, that’s another story altogether.

Wahhh

I don’t want to work today. Instead, I want to go take pictures of water towers.

I feel uninspired and unmotivated. (To work, that is. I feel very inspired to take pictures of water towers.)

And I wish I were as witty as dooce. But then, who doesn’t?

Nice.

I don’t know whether Nick wants me to link to his semi-secret blog. But he posted the following illustration, and I thought it was so fucking funny that I asked if I could lift it and post it here.

That’s gold.

Somebody’s Fabulous!

A long, fun – but exhausting – weekend is drawing to a close. I am not leaving my apartment for the rest of the night.

I had a great time at the Atlanta Pride Festival today. From 11:00-1:00, I volunteered at the Georgia for Democracy booth, getting people registered to vote (although it seemed that most people who walked by were already registered). When I left the booth at ~1:15, I made my way through the ever-increasing crowd along Piedmont, heading to Cari’s apartment. There were some religious protestors by the 12th St. park entrance (Joseph wrote about them yesterday), but no one seemed to be paying much attention to them.

As I got closer to the intersection of Piedmont and 10th, I was starting to feel pretty antsy and claustrophobic. But I made it to Cari’s apartment, and we made our way back and found a good spot on Piedmont in front of Willy’s. I gave Cari my camera because I didn’t feel that I could handle the responsibility of being in charge of photography. She took over 100 pictures – I’ve uploaded about half of them here. By far, this is my favorite.

So, yeah, Pride was a good time. It rained off and on, but that didn’t put a damper on the festivities at all. The only slightly disappointing thing is there didn’t seem to be as much free stuff this year. I got only two free condoms. Two! Oh well. It was a fun day nonetheless. Off to collapse on the couch now…