What I Begrudgingly Admit As A Woman

We, the women of the feministic mindset, like to pretend we can do anything we set our minds to.

We can do a lot, but we definitely can’t do everything. Certain categories of life require the help of others. It shouldn’t be a problem to ask for help in life. No one is perfect, except perhaps Beyonce. Yet, we work so hard for our rights- and even the rights to have opinions- that we sometimes forget to chill out and admit weaknesses.

There are a few things the male body is more naturally suited for. The physical set of a man’s hips is more efficient for running. Women certainly can and should run if they should choose, but it comes slightly easier to a man. Just as childbirth comes easier (ok, physically possible) for women. That is what our hips were made for. The disgruntled runner inside me begrudgingly admits this.

Many men even lose weight easier than women do- something that weight loss shows have to take into mathematical account when competing men versus women. I find this wholly unfair and something that I will continue to pout about.

Something else that comes easier to men: being alone in certain situations. I don’t want to walk alone at night. I don’t want to walk through a parking garage or pump gasoline alone, thanks to television deja vu. I don’t get into a vehicle alone at night without being afraid that a person sits await in my backseat, waiting to garrot me, or lies under my car, waiting to stick a knife out to cut my Achillie’s tendon and disable me from running away.

I don’t care how safe the neighborhood is supposed to be- I don’t want to be outside in it, alone, when there is a sparse grouping of people in the area. These may sound completely paranoid, but this fear has been drilled into me by news stories and foreboding warnings. How many women carry pepper spray, mace, a taser, or even a very pointy keychain that they could use to stab with in defense? How many men do the same? We are right to be scared. Ask for help, even if it is hard to admit. Get a ride home.

As much as we’d like for everything to be naturally even, the world is not. I am not admitting defeat, just further problem areas. Certainly every person can admit something they are jealous of the other gender for. I would add “peeing standing up” to the list, but I’m lazy. I enjoy extra opportunities to sit.

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Jenny McCarthy M.D?

Why is Jenny McCarthy still on TV? She’s a 90’s icon. She’s a Playmate. She’s a psycho. But she’s not current and has no business being on my TV even if it is only a VH1 show! Let me go back, McCarthy has talk show on VH1 and an upcoming show on NBC. Don’t ask me why. She seems to be stuck in the 90’s where she was relevant.
Her talk show features pole dancers, her one the floor eating a sucker, and dick jokes. It’s The Man Show with Jenny McCarthy. I think she thinks that makes her cool. “Hey I’m a chick that likes strippers and penis!” Yeah, we know. You posed naked, you sleep around, you constantly talk about how you bought your boobs and they pay your bills—we get it, the problem is she doesn’t.

It’s not cool to like strippers and it’s not cool to play to those stereotypes. I’m a pretty girl that farts, love me! It’s an old sad act and at forty years-old she should be over this. I’m not shaming Jenny McCarthy I have a genuine problem with her. I’m sure most people will say I hate her because she’s blonde and has fake boobs—but that’s not true. I hate her because she’s dangerous. That’s right I said it!

Jenny McCarthy has a platform and she shouldn’t. She was famous in the 90’s and for some reason she thinks that means she can dole out medical advice. McCarthy has a son named Evan. Evan has autism. That’s very sad, it’s very complicated. I feel for McCarthy that she has a special needs child. However, she makes it very hard for me to support her when she says writes blogs titled, “My son’s recovery from autism”. You didn’t save him from autism. You can’t cure autism. You don’t recover from it. To her credit, in the blog she says that people are confusing “recover” with “cure” but that’s not true. Recover means 1. To get back; regain. 2. To restore (oneself) to a normal state. That is the very definition. You can’t go changing the meaning of words McCarthy!

How did she “recover” her son? She says, “We believe what helped Evan recover was starting a gluten-free, casein-free diet, vitamin supplementation, detox of metals, and anti-fungals for yeast overgrowth that plagued his intestines.” OH! It’s all diet? Autism can be “recovered from” by a healthy diet? Thank goodness you exists Jenny McCarthy because decades of scientific studies didn’t deduce anything so meaningful!
Aside from spouting nutritional facts (BTW McCarthy is not a nutritionist and has no business giving advice regarding health and food), she also is very vocal against vaccines. McCarthy claims that it was the MMR vaccine that caused her son’s autism. Not the fact that she had her baby at 30 and autism is linked to older birth mothers. No, no it was the vaccines. For a while I bought it too. Vaccines are given in groups. I always thought they gave too many shots to babies at one time. There was even a study done by Dr. Andrew Wakefield that linked some vaccines to autism. But in 2011 Wakefield redacted his study and admitted he lied about the data. Does that stop McCarthy? Nope.

I understand that as a mother you never want to think you did anything to harm your child. You never want to think your child is different. But get your head out of your ass. This is science. It’s true whether you believe it or not. Diet, and vaccines have little to no impact on your child’s autism. But please, give her yet another TV show so she can go on the media press tour and continue spouting off this nonsense and endangering lives. McCarthy has blood on her hands and the next time she’s invited on a morning show maybe someone should ask her about it instead of laughing at her dick jokes.

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Openly Gay And Bi Men Are Happier, No One Surprised

I mean, one meaning for “gay” is “happy.” No but seriously.

Researchers at the University of Montreal found that, for gay and bisexual men, “coming out” has actual health benefits, reducing the stress and anxiety that the men in question experience.

You guys, I can totally see this. I was not exactly “closeted” in high school (I mean, you can’t really fool around with a guy at an afterschool club and be like: “What? Interested in guys? A slanderous lie!”). But I wasn’t always honest about it, either. Like, I may have slightly agreed to go to a dance with a female friend of mine who asked me out because I have crippling anxiety, a fear of confrontation, and she was a lovely person and so I wanted to be nice.

Like, remember when Bree Van De Kamp accepted a marriage proposal on Desperate Housewives because she did not want to be rude? Sometimes being polite has its drawbacks.

Anyway, high school was pleasant and so was college. I’m not one for going around and telling everyone that you’re gay or bisexual when you meet them (like you’re a registered sex-offender or something). I kind of expect for friends to figure out that I’m gay the same way that they figure out that I’m white—because it’s obvious. That can sometimes mean that a few people basically have to walk into your dorm room while your All-Hot-Dudes screensaver (I call mine “Mantage,” like a montage, but of men) is up. Or if they ask.

The only time that I will lie about my sexual orientation is if A) it’s an uncomfortable situation (like, one guy says: “gay guys make me uncomfortable,” and another guy says: “No, gay guys are awesome. Hey, Simon, you’re gay, right?” And that is a paraphrased quote from my life (the first guy is very nice and openly has a boyfriend now; don’t worry). Scenario B) is if my family is involved. Because no one does “embarrassing” like my family does.

I mean, now, if my mother meets one of my female friends, she just about always assumes that I am sleeping with the lady in question. This is something that my female friends and I can laugh off—it’s goofy, like getting drunk and making out at a party. I’m not worried about telling my elderly Republican relatives—my eighty-three-year-old Republican grandmother voted for Chaz Bono on Dancing With The Stars because she couldn’t stand the fuss that people made over him being transgender, she voted against Amendment One in our state (an anti-marriage-equality amendment here in North Carolina), and she “secretly” voted for Obama in this past election. It’s just that, literally, my mother would be embarrassing if she officially knew and I would prefer to avoid that. It’s not like I have “relationships” that I hide from her or anyone else. There’s never pressure to tell your family about hook-ups.

That said, I have watched Fashion Police with my mother on multiple occasions, so I would say that she at least suspects.

Am I happier than most people? I would say so. Content, at least. There are people who better exemplify this story. One friend of mine used certain recreational pharmaceuticals as an escape rather than simply for recreation for a while. He came out to his mother and she was not exactly accepting. After she did become supportive, he became much happier and less self-destructive.

So, no one is really surprised, at all, that stopping yourself from living a lie makes you happier. Freeing yourself from that might even let you be happier than people who have never lived a lie. What do you think?

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Sex and Drinking: The Truth

So, you think being drunk makes your sex better? You’re wrong. Most people think that drunk sex is good sex, maybe they think this because they can’t remember it—or maybe to them any sex is good sex. A new study shows what alcohol really does to your sexy life and it isn’t pretty. First, alcohol is a depressant. It decreases your breathing, circulation, and overall sensitivity of nerve endings. In case you didn’t know all three of those things are really important for an orgasm. Next up, dehydration! You know when you wake up after a hard night of partying and you pound any liquid you can get your hands on? That’s because you are so dehydrated,  dying of dehydration is like a hangover that kills you. Why does that matter? Sexual arousal needs blood. For men it means an erection and for women it means lube, if you don’t have enough water in your body the blood flow has a harder time and sometimes can’t complete the cycle.

Some will say that alcohol will put you in the mood and one or two drinks certainly can get you feeling all warm and tingly but any more than that and you start getting the dehydration and depressant action with means—no sex action. Large amounts of alcohol or long term consumption means fewer excretions too. What’s worse? You can get an erection but 11% of the time you won’t be able to fire that missile, this doesn’t make you an extraordinary lover it makes women bored and your balls blue.

Next time you head out to the bar thinking that you’re getting your mojo going, remember two or three drinks is key.

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