boston pride 2010

Alright, so I know I said this blog wouldn’t be too closely focused on my personal life. However, my weekend was fairly blog-worthy. So…I’m going to break my own rule and go on a rant about my recent activities. On Thursday night, Hilly was in Boston looking at apartments, so she had planned to crash at my house. After grabbing some delectable crepes, Hilly, her new roommate Jen, and I drove over to J.P. to the Midway Café for Queereoke. That’s right. Queer Karaoke. Needless to say, it was fantastic. Hilly and I did a lovely rendition of Somethin’ Like That by Tim McGraw (our own shout-out to the M&Cs). The country kinda killed the mood, except for one awesome guy rocking out in the front and singing every word.

Saturday brought the Boston Pride Parade! My supervisors over at Planned Parenthood invited me to march in the parade with them, and told me to bring friends. So, Mia and I dragged our butts out of bed to be over in the South End by 11 am. After getting all decked out in rainbow boas, tiaras, sparkly sunglasses, and PPLM t-shirts and filling up our bags with STI treatment pamphlets and safe-sex kits, we were ready to go. We were lucky enough to have some sort of drum-group behind us, so we always had a steady beat to dance to. It was totally awesome! Even though we got poured on at the end of the parade, seeing everybody so excited and decked out for the parade was totally worth it. Here are some pics from the event:

I had so much fun that I’m actually shipping over to NYC pride on the 25th. If anybody’s gonna be in the city, give me a call! That’s all for now. But since I’m being all personal today, I might as well address my readers personally. Here’s the deal people. I know you’re reading. You just aren’t submitting any questions or comments. I have a little graph that shows me exactly how many people are reading each post…so I know I have readers, but a little love would be appreciated.

new “morning after” pill possibly on the market

…and this one works longer than Plan B. The new pill, ulipristal, can be taken up to 5 days after unprotected sex to prevent pregnancy, while Plan B can only be taken up to two days after. Additionally, ulipristal is equally as effective on Day 5 as it is on Day 1- while Plan B’s effectiveness decreases with each day that passes. The radio segment is pretty short, and definitely worth listening to. Just try to block out the obnoxious pro-lifers.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=127773992&sc=emaf

in case you run out of witty things to say.

http://kaikay12.tripod.com/id17.html

(discovered by the wonderful Mia)

thoughts on a new book

Being the huge social science dork that I am, my “fun” summer reading has so far consisted of one book: Red Light: Inside the Sex Industry by Sylvia Plachy and James Ridgeway.

Here it is, in all its glory

With chapter titles such as the sex police, do-it-yourself porn, occupational hazards, and mistress anastasia, I was sure of what I was getting myself into. This is definitely not a book that is afraid of getting dirty (excuse the bad pun), but doesn’t go overboard on the shock-to-your-senses details. It is, in essence, simply realistic. I’m a huge fan of the black and white photos that are scattered throughout the pages, all taken by Sylvia Plachy. While many of them are quite graphic, they don’t feel at all dirty or explicit. In fact, they still manage to maintain a lot of beauty, even when portraying highly sexual scenes that many may find offensive. Most of these photos evoke a sense of voyeurism; it’s as if the reader is able to catch a glimpse of something so private, so intimate, and is able to understand not only what is happening but why it’s happening, how these people are feeling. My favorite is a photograph of a poem, scribbled on what looks like the back of an old envelope. Part of it reads, “Ode to the men at the bar, who hide their scabs within the sheath of their sex, wagging tongues, insisting that the girl is the object, not them. Insane throwaways, they refuse to see.”

Now don’t go interpreting my love of these photographs as this book being strictly artsy fartsy- because it’s not. It’s actually really funny. In the introduction, titled “The Business of Sex”, the authors go into great detail to describe Paulie, a man who often pays for sex. Paulie is a stereotype. “He has thick glasses and wears a rumpled suit and has just arrived from the floor of the New York Stock Exchange” (14). He lives with his mother in the Bronx. And he pays between $100 and $300 a night for sex (depending on how many girls he requests). Paulie gets off on being a man of power- his fantasies include having the women act as “the girl next door, the subservient coquette, the slut, or the mistress” (16). He might have the women kiss each other, but only when he allows it. In his world, “the women’s sexual pleasure- feigned as it may be- is controlled by (him)” (16).

Anyway, enough with the book report. Go read it yourselves!

Topless Trannies arrested?

Okay, so please excuse the typo in this article. I obviously didn’t write it. Doesn’t it kill you when you find typos/grammar mistakes in publications?

Anyway, this article describes the double standard of male/female nudity. Definitely worth a read.

http://blogout.justout.com/?p=18431

just in case you were planning on having sex with a soccer player during the World Cup…

According to the Associated Press, the soccer players competing in the World Cup have been OKed to have sex…

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gAy9b14AVEyFQq2JoFIAoL6R9MqgD9FVDIG02

“BUENOS AIRES, Argentina — Soccer and sex are just fine for the World Cup.

That’s the word from Argentina’s team doctor who says players can have sex with their regular partners (and what if they want to try something new, that’s not okay? Damn, I guess I’m out of the running then…) during the monthlong tournament in South Africa.

Dr. Donato Vallani said sex was a part of life.

“The players can have sex with their wives and girlfriends during the World Cup,” he said on Radio Del Plata. “Players are not Martians.”

“But,” he added, “it should not be at 2 a.m. with champagne and Havana cigars.”

(Well doesn’t that just ruin all the fun!)

Cosmo’s attempt at convincing me that I can use household items as sex toys.

Now, before I get into the nitty gritty, I’m just going to make a statement to all of you- I don’t necessarily share the same views as the editors over at Cosmo. Some of these are good ideas, some of them…well, you’ll see. I’m all for getting creative, but safety comes first, people. Nothing’s worse than an injury during sex. Seriously kills the mood.

The link is: http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/tips-moves/bedroom-sex-toys.

So let’s just go through these one by one.

1. A cell phone. Okay, definitely feasible, but please please please disinfect when you’re done. Also, in my opinion, videotaping sex? Never a good idea. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t trust that anything ever gets fully deleted.

2. Bobby pins. Okay…definitely thinking outside the box on this one. Be careful that the rubber balls on the ends don’t fall off- otherwise, you’re going to end up bloody and at risk of tetanus.

3. Pillowcase. Easily replaced with silk scarves, a much more comfortable alternative. Also, if you’re going to play around with suffocation, BE CAREFUL. Seriously. We’ve all seen the CSI episodes where a fun sex game goes awry and somebody ends up in prison. Don’t be that somebody.

4. Cashmere Sock. Definitely never would have thought of this one. Make sure it doesn’t chafe. And don’t let your socks get ruined, if you know what I mean.

5. Hairbrush. As long as this stays away from genitals, it sounds lovely to me.

6. Lacy Boyshorts. I think they have the wrong idea here. Clearly, you should be making your partner wear these.

7. Mouthwash. Okay, this is a TERRIBLE idea. You know how mouthwash stings when it’s in your mouth? Yeah. Exactly.