Dying a Virgin

According to the Mayan calendar, the Apocalypse is coming. Or something. It’s the end of the world as we know it, right?

If this were a movie, and if my boyfriend were a jerk, he would have already tried this timeless trope on me:

Do you want to die a virgin?

I understand why this works in movies. Sex is almost always the eventual goal of romantic entanglements; maintaining abstinence is rarely lauded as an accomplishment. Add in the extra drama of a life or death situation, and suddenly even the reluctant romantic lead feels enticed to do the deed.

But this isn’t a movie, and my boyfriend is not only totally awesome, but also a virgin like I am. 

Some critics might think we haven’t really “lived” because we’ve never had coitus, but I beg to differ. Call me crazy, but I think there is more to living life to the fullest than engaging in intercourse.

Vacationing in Nice on a regular basis (four times over two years) is WAY better than sex.

If the world really does end soon (it won’t), then what will I regret?

• Not having traveled more (even though I’ve traveled a lot for my age)
• Not having published a book (even though I’ve shared my writing with friends, family, and the Internet)
• Not having done more on my list of 101 Things in 1001 Days(but I’ve done quite a few!)
• Not having read more books (despite the vast number I have read)

The more I think about it, the more I realize I’m already living my life to the fullest. If the Apocalypse happens, will I regret dying a virgin?

Yes and no.

I will regret never having had the privilege of being a mother, which, you know, often comes about from having sex, but I could never regret staying true to myself and my beliefs.

Besides.

My life has been so awesome and so full of MOI that it’s impossible for me to live—or die—with any true regrets.

I might die a virgin, but most people will die having never lived near Paris. Bam!

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Wasting Your Vote is BULLSHIT: How Voting Is Like Sex

Have you seen the controversial ad comparing voting for the first time to having sex for the first time?

It's received a lot of attention, and rightly so. From Republican outrage* "Oh, look, the Democratic Party reduces women to their sexual status too!" to this well-written article on hipster sexism.

I don't condemn the ad as objectification of women. Lena Dunham is an extremely self-aware woman who knows what she's doing.

But I don't think the ad goes far enough in comparing voting to sex. I think I can do better.

1. A lot of people are saying, "Don't waste your vote. Don't vote for a third party candidate, especially in a swing state." A lot of people will also tell you not to waste your virginity on someone who isn't your spouse. Both of these statements are BULLSHIT!** Vote for whom you want. Sleep with whom you want.
2. The media has a lot to say about both Romney and Obama and the people who support them. And if you're somewhere in the middle, well, you're insulted by them all. Sound familiar? It's a LOT like the prude/slut dichotomy. As famously said in The Breakfast Club, "It's a double-edged sword... if you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a trap. You want to but you can't, and when you do you wish you didn't, right?"Guess what. Voting for Obama (or having sex) doesn't make you a bad person. Voting for Romney (or not having sex) doesn't make you a bad person. Voting for Gary Johnson (or only having non-sex sex) makes you fucking awesome.
3. The media is also spewing a bunch of lies about both candidates, who are lying themselves. The media lies about abstinence and sex, too. Like that if you don't abstain, you ruin yourself for your husband. Like that everyone is having sex except you. You need to do your own research about the political candidates and where they stand on the issues. Similarly, you need to figure out your own reasons for abstaining or having sex and make that decision with a partner who respects your choice.
4. Voting for the first time is a big deal, just like having sex for the first time is a big deal. But for the second time is important, and the third time, and the fourth... Voting is NEVER unimportant. My first kiss was a big deal to me, but each subsequent make-out session has also helped shape who I am now as a sexual being.
5. It's up to you if you want to talk about who you voted for. It's up to you if you want to talk about your sexual experience (or lack thereof).
6. Your friends and family will try to pressure you to vote a certain way. You need to vote for the candidate who you think is best. Some men (or women) might try to pressure you into having sex. You need to have sex only when you think you're ready.

I had a lot of fun comparing voting to sex, but I hope it was also a playful learning experience. 

I've already submitted my absentee ballot. I voted for Gary Johnson. As a libertarian, I cannot in good conscience vote for someone who supports big government, which both Romney and Obama do, albeit in different ways.

But the point of this post isn't to tell you to vote for Gary Johnson.***

The point is for you to VOTE. Educate yourself on the issues, find out where each candidate stands on the issues--especially your state and city candidates--and vote accordingly.

Voting is one of the greatest freedoms we have. Don't waste it.

*Yeah, like I actually believe the Republican Party cares about this.
**TM Penn & Teller, who are both fucking awesome.
***I'm kidding. You should vote for Gary Johnson. You won't regret it.

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Why I'm a Feminist (Part Three): Gender Inequality Makes Me Angry

Assholes like to belittle women’s rights activists, dismissing us as “angry feminists.” Normally I bristle against stereotypes of any kind, but especially ones that try to limit who I am as a person. Just like being a virgin doesn't make me frigid or judgmental, being a feminist doesn't make me a bitch or a man-hater.

But the assholes have one thing right. 

I am angry.

I’m angry that the War on Women isn't just a political catchphrase. Republican legislators across the country, at the federal and state level, have introduced, and often passed, legislation 

• to force women seeking an abortion to undergo unnecessary procedures, or 
• to force women to carry even stillborn children to term after 20 weeks, or 
• to legalize the murder of abortion providers, or 
• to redefine rape, or 
• to force doctors to lie to patients, or 
• to restrict access to birth control while criminalizing all abortion.

I’m angry that Bill Clinton is still the Democrat’s Golden Boy. I don’t care that he cheated on his wife—that is his personal business. But how many women have accused him of sexual harassment, like Paula Jones? Of sexual assault, like Kathleen Willey? Of rape, like Juanita Broaddrick? Accusations date back to BEFORE he was even governor. So all you rape apologists who want to doubt his victims’ credibility can just stop. I thought the Democratic Party supported women’s rights…

I'm angry that my twin brother called me a slut and a whore for years, in front of all our mutual friends, and not a single one of  them stood up for me. I had committed the unforgivable crime of developing breasts, and I had to be shamed for it.

I’m angry at the number of times I had to ask to choose a famous person not on the proposed list for essays, papers, and projects. Why? I wanted to write about famous women.

I’m angry that I earned a reputation in my non-WGS history classes as the feminist. Why? I was the only one who consistently questioned gender bias, who asked about the women. In today’s day and age, what kind of history students ignore the history of half the world’s population?

I’m angry that my home church won’t allow women to serve in ordained positions. Women are allowed to be deacons, but not elders or ministers. My father is an elder, and I know he does his best to represent my mother and me, along with my brothers. I remember how proud I was when I found out he had been nominated. I cried when he told me he almost didn't accept it. He had to pray about it and talk to my mother because he wondered if it was wrong to accept a leadership role denied to my mother.

I’m angry that women are held up to an impossible standard of beauty. Be skinny, but not too skinny. Be curvy, but not too curvy. Be really pale or really tan, but not in-between. Always wear make-up in public, but never look like you’re wearing make-up. Wear the latest styles, but only wear styles that flatter your figure. Wear the latest colors, but only wear colors that flatter your skin tone. 

I'm angry that a sexual double standard still exists. My blood boiled when I first heard the comparison of men and women to keys and locks. 

I'm angry that most movies and TV shows fail the Bechdel Test.

I'm angry that so many of the twitter accounts I follow do stupid trending topics like #MyPerfectHusbandIs and #HowToMakeAWomanHappy, both of which just reek with outdated gender stereotypes.

I'm angry that I can't tell anyone from home that I'm bisexual. I'm angry that my sexuality is dismissed as greedy, or experimental, or denial. I'm angry that I have to lie to my family, to all my friends from high school, to most of my friends from college, to everyone at church. I'm angry that I can't marry a woman in my home state.

So go ahead.

Call me an angry feminist.

You are 100 fucking percent correct.

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Pop the Cherry: A Guest Post

Y'all! My first anonymous submission. I'm totally not the only nerdy goddess out there with strong opinions on sex, virginity, and everything else.

SteampunkTink is a Scholar and a Lady living in the heart of it all.  Nerd among men, she spends her time obsessing over Doctor Who, Marvel’s The Avengers, Star Wars (woman after my own heart!), Stargate, Star Trek, and pretty much all things Sci-Fi.  Before blogging, she attended a rather large University, where she learned that not all archeology professors look like Dr. Indiana Jones (say it ain’t so!), and not all business teachers act like Gordon Gekko.  Ms. SteampunkTink spends her free time crafting, knitting, quilting and practicing the domestic arts.  She proudly sports the Gryffindor scarlett and gold.

She can be reached for comment at SteampunkTink@gmail.com or tweet her at @SteampunkTink

Pop the cherry –

Yes, I typed it.  Pop the cherry.  I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count the number of “first times” that have used this silly phrase.  Let me recount for you some of my popped cherries:

• I popped my theatre cherry when I saw a stage show live for the first time 
• I popped my laser tag cherry when I shot someone with a laser for the first time
• I popped “the cherry”…no, seriously
• I popped my Doctor Who cherry when it popped up as a suggestion in my Netflix queue
• I popped my Star Wars cherry at the age of 4 when I watched Episode 4 for the first time, and I haven’t looked back

The point I’m trying to make here is that the first time we do something is a pretty big deal.  Well, it’s a pretty big deal to everyone else.  Or at least that is what we’re told. 

Case in point--My first time watching Star Wars was very special.  It has lightsabers and stuff.  I was 4, so that was what I took away from the epic Sci-Fi masterpiece: lightsabers. My parents recount the looks of horror they received when telling friends of our cinematic experiences.  “She’s too young,” said many. “She’ll have nightmares,” said others.  I was too young at the time to understand things like

*Spoilers*

the death of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.  I saw what I could understand at the time. 

However it wasn’t until I was older that I truly understood the quality of the characters and the depth of the story.  I needed time, experience and maturity to process what I witnessed on the screen.   I was 8 when I really understood what happened. 

Our culture put so much emphasis on the “first time” of anything that we forget that every occurrence should be special, and every time we can learn something new.  For example, I learned that in Episode 4, Luke points the lightsaber straight at his face.  I mean, he looked into it like it was a flashlight.  It took me 5 times watching that movie to catch that little quirk. 

Silly as it may sound, there is something special about a first experience.  Each new adventure brings knowledge and growth, but that first time is just the beginning.  It doesn’t define who you are unless you let it. 

Cherries I have yet to pop:

• Rocky Horror Picture Show  - live
• Woodstock
• Homeownership
• Meeting George Lucas

I think I can live with that. 

*Belle's spoiler note: Normally I would hide the text or something, so you could legitimately avoid the spoilers, but honestly, if you haven't seen Star Wars yet, you're a failure at life.

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