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26 Dec

Dear Mr. Postman will be on holiday break, with only occasional posts, until the New Year. Because the rest of the Internet is doing it and I get to, too.

Merry merry and may all your resolutions reflect self-awareness and a healthy dose of humor.


Dear America

14 Dec

Come on, Obama. Come on, Congress. Announce it. State your intention to pass stricter gun control laws, to ban assault weapons, to protect America’s children and citizens. Write the bill. Say it out loud, today. It doesn’t honor anyone to refuse to take action. We don’t want to stand still and grieve. We can grieve while changing the law. We can grieve while ensuring it won’t happen again. Take a stand. Lead us. Be leaders. Be bold, be right, be righteous. Change this country forever.

Dear An Ounce of Prevention Saves You from a Pound of Scrap Metal

12 Dec

I got rear-ended last night. I’m fine, thank you, and we’ll get to my car in a minute. It’s not a great story– the light turned green, the first car in line didn’t go because they were turning right and there was a pedestrian, the car behind it stopped, I stopped, the car behind me didn’t stop. We exchanged information, no one was hurt, done. 

There actually was a moment when I looked in my rearview, saw the car behind me, thought, “Oh good they’ve stopped” and then–bam. A nice clean crack and a jolt forward.

Now, she wasn’t driving a huge truck, and she wasn’t going very fast. But it made me grateful for a number of things. Like driving a very safe, sturdy car. And having insurance. And other people having insurance. And that my parents were five minutes away in one direction, my sister five minutes away in the other, and that my dad just went ahead and got in his car and drove over to check on me, and a minute later my sister’s boyfriend called, saying he was down the block and did I need help? And no one honked at us as we blocked a lane on one of the busiest streets in Seattle during rush hour. 

Back to that car thing– I drive a used luxury car, one which because they lease so often you can actually get for a pretty good price. So it’s a nice car. It’s a safe car. The girl who hit me was in a Honda Accord, which, don’t get me wrong, is a great car. But her hood buckled up over her engine and her license plate fell off. That’s how hard she hit me. My car…has some paint on it.

Drive safe out there. It’s dark early and late these days, pedestrians are hard to see– a friend of mine was just hit by a car and her leg is broken– and roads are wet. 


Dear Movember

1 Nov

This was originally posted on November 17, 2011. I’m reposting it today because it’s once again Movember and ugh.

Dear Movember,

It’s that time of year again, when men indulge their secret desire to look like creeps from the 1970′s even though it is no longer socially acceptable for them to behave in corresponding creepy ways.

So now they grow mustaches, leer inappropriately under the guise of “irony,” and defend it in the name of a good cause. Political correctness is great.

Let’s pretend that Movember and its most visible cause– prostate cancer– is the male equivalent of the marketing push behind breast cancer (they’re not direct inverses, obviously, but bear with me for a second).

So one of the ways breast cancer funding is marketed is through this whole “boobs are sexy; let’s save ‘em” thing. While I like my boobs, and I want them to be healthy, and I don’t disagree that they’re sexy, I still feel like this campaign is a very concerted effort to get men to care about breast cancer. Which is fine. Men should care about breast cancer. This is also manifested in the idea that most breast lumps are found by women’s partners…so get involved in catching breast cancer early by coping a feel of your lady’s ladylumps (really, do it). (“This isn’t for me, baby, I swear, it’s all for you. It’s a hard-on for health.“)

AND THEN in the other corner of the ring, we’ve got Movember! And prostate cancer! Wherein guys….grow mustaches. I took a poll, and it turns out this is something guys like and women don’t. So let’s call it an indulgence on their part. It’s their health issue, their gender’s health month, so ok. And then in an attempt to include women in this mission, Movember advocates “Have Sex with a Guy with a Mustache” day:

Awwwww so sweet! OH WAIT. I feel like this isn’t really for women, actually. I feel like it’s for the dudes with mustaches, whose sex lives have suddenly dropped off with the advent of Movember.

So let me get this straight:

1) To fight cancer, men get to feel women’s boobs and grow mustaches.

2) Whereas women have even more focus on their breasts (can be great but not the pleasure center, dudes), have to see guys in mustaches, and “get” to have sex with guys with mustaches. Which by the way does nothing to prevent cancer. Just in case some guy tries to tell you that, ladies—it’s not true.

3) Women need to get men involved in the campaign against breast cancer—need their support so badly (financially, emotionally, psychologically, politically, socially?)—that the entire marketing strategy revolves primarily around drawing men to the cause. (I maintain “boobs are hot” is not designed primarily for women. By the way, should we talk about saving the woman who has the breasts? No? Oh ok my bad.)

4) Whereas the marketing to get funding for men’s health issues involves growingmustaches and encouraging women to have sex with guys with mustaches. As in, this does not actually show a concern for drawing women to the campaign through something that appeals to them. AT ALL. DOES NOT APPEAL TO THEM AT ALL. As in, men don’t seem to need women to support their health care cause.


Why doesn’t Movember include an educational component of “how to check your man for prostate cancer”? I don’t know that this is really for women, either, but it would at least make sense. It, sort of like Samantha on Sex in the City, would advocate sticking your finger up your man’s rectum.

As the video above would say: “It’s for health, baby…I’m fighting that asshole, cancer.” Or you could also say: “that asshole cancer.”

Punctuation is my favorite.



PS—Also this is a very heterosexual-relationship focused post because the campaigns are that way.

PPS—I support funding for health research for almost all issues. Except the boner ones. I think we can all agree we’ve sucked that one dry      flooded the market       raised awareness      opened the floodgates       tipped the fulcrum       it’s no longer no country for old men       oh screw it. (Literally, you can now.)

Dear Sex in Brooklyn

23 Oct

Did you know there’s a sports bar called PLAN B in Brooklyn? I didn’t go in. 

That made me feel: like I would get sexually assaulted in the bathroom. 

When my friend and I were walking through the Prospect Park farmers’ market, a very well-dressed salt-and-pepper haired African-American man holding a Planned Parenthood clipboard stopped us. Individually, we probably would have each kept walking. But put us together and we got our signals crossed and hesitated and ended up listening to him talk at us for 12 minutes about PP’s contributions to society and the current threats it faces in this political climate. 

Neither of us needed to be told what’s happening in Arizona, Wisconsin, how PP is being attacked and attempts are being made to defund it across the country. Both of us follow the news pretty closely. Neither of us can contribute more than we already do. Both of us wanted to get going.

But. We really, really love Planned Parenthood. We really, really loved this man’s scarf and his animated eyebrows and dedication to the cause. We really, really, really loved it when he looked us each in the eye and said, “I’ve been working for Planned Parenthood since 2007, that’s five years, defending your reproductive rights!” 

That made me feel: like I want to only have sex with really beautiful people in lovely light.

photographs by Yulia Gorodinski 

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