Yes, I'm breaking out the Yiddish on this one:

Obama and the Acceptable Abortion, by Jill at Feministe. Jill links to !!#@$!!!@*!&*#$*&@, by Melissa McEwan at Shakesville. Melissa links to this AP article by Jim Kuhnhenn: Obama: Mental distress can't justify late abortion.

Here is the quote from Relevant Magazine, in context. Emphases mine, so you know why I have my mad pants on:

[Cameron Strang, Publisher]: Based on emails we received, another issue of deep importance to our readers is a candidate’s stance on abortion. We largely know your platform, but there seems to be some real confusion about your position on third-trimester and partial-birth abortions. Can you clarify your stance for us?

Obama: I absolutely can, so please don’t believe the emails. I have repeatedly said that I think it’s entirely appropriate for states to restrict or even prohibit late-term abortions as long as there is a strict, well-defined exception for the health of the mother. Now, I don’t think that “mental distress” qualifies as the health of the mother. I think it has to be a serious physical issue that arises in pregnancy, where there are real, significant problems to the mother carrying that child to term. Otherwise, as long as there is such a medical exception in place, I think we can prohibit late-term abortions.

The other email rumor that’s been floating around is that somehow I’m unwilling to see doctors offer life-saving care to children who were born as a result of an induced abortion. That’s just false. There was a bill that came up in Illinois that was called the “Born Alive” bill that purported to require life-saving treatment to such infants. And I did vote against that bill. The reason was that there was already a law in place in Illinois that said that you always have to supply life-saving treatment to any infant under any circumstances, and this bill actually was designed to overturn Roe v. Wade, so I didn’t think it was going to pass constitutional muster.

Ever since that time, emails have been sent out suggesting that, somehow, I would be in favor of letting an infant die in a hospital because of this particular vote. That’s not a fair characterization, and that’s not an honest characterization. It defies common sense to think that a hospital wouldn't provide life-saving treatment to an infant that was alive and had a chance of survival.

Strang: You’ve said you’re personally against abortion and would like to see a reduction in the number of abortions under your administration. So, as president, how would do you propose accomplishing that?

Obama: I think we know that abortions rise when unwanted pregnancies rise. So, if we are continuing what has been a promising trend in the reduction of teen pregnancies, through education and abstinence education giving good information to teenagers. That is important—emphasizing the sacredness of sexual behavior to our children. I think that’s something that we can encourage. I think encouraging adoptions in a significant way. I think the proper role of government. So there are ways that we can make a difference, and those are going to be things I focus on when I am president.

Did I miss something? Is this man Barry Obama, M.D.? Is Senator Obama hiding a uterus, ovaries and a vagina under his suit? No? Then in what way is he--or any other man--qualified to lay down proclamations over how women use their bodies?

Also, "the sacredness of sexual behavior"? The "promising trend in the reduction of teen pregnancies, through education and abstinence education"? Did he miss Jamie-Lynn Spears' surprise that having unprotected sex led to her getting pregnant? There are no words for this lunacy.

I'm mad because there is no one this man won't sell out. He knows everyone left of center has to either vote for him or not vote. So first he tells the gays and the lesbians and the rest of the queer community that he will keep them separate but equal. Then he tells sick people that he'll provide health care to everyone who wants it; as if there are people who don't want health care. Then he tells black people that we need to check our own racism and homophobia; because that's the problem with this country: the bigotry of black people? Then he tells our military, maybe I won't end the Iraq war as quickly as I said I would before I became the presumptive Democratic nominee. Now he's imposing his ignorant beliefs on women's bodies and advocating abstinence education for teenagers, even though abstinence education does not work.

Senator Obama, I did read Animal Farm. And right now, you look like a pig walking on two legs.

You are invited to visit my blog http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com and share your thoughts on posts such as:

THE PSYCHE OF THE BLACK WOMAN (PT. 1)

 http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/06/psyche-of-black-woman-connecting-self.html

THE PSYCHE OF THE BLACK WOMAN (PT. 2)http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/06/psyche-of-black-woman-connecting-self_24.html

WHITE MEN AND THEIR HORRID HISTORY WITH BLACK WOMEN

http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/05/lost-absolution-white-men-and-their.html

BLACK WOMEN SPEAK ABOUT SEXUAL ETHICS

http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/04/black-women-speak-about-sexual-ethics.html

THE REDEFINTION OF BLACK FEMININITY

http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/06/redefinition-of-black-femininity.html 

THE REDEFINITION OF POWER

http://blackwomenblowthetrumpet.blogspot.com/2008/04/black-women-and-redefinition-of-power.html

 There is a lot more that you will find at my blog, so please feel welcome to come on by!

From The Daily Mail:

A woman claims her life has been ruined by someone who set up a Facebook website page in her name describing her as a vice girl.

Kerry Harvey, 23, says she received obscene pictures on her mobile phone and unsolicited calls from would-be ‘punters’.

The forged profile featured her photograph, correct date of birth,
middle name and mobile number, listing her job as ‘prostitute’.

The Facebook page is down now, but this is especially disheartening:

She also reported the abuse to police but was told it would cost too much to track the culprit.

Not to mention this classic blame-the-victim:

‘Generally, people can try and avoid false profile pages
by posting as little personal information as possible - not just on
social networking sites but anywhere on the net.’

This is nearly impossible. A Google search of your name gets you
your address very easily. And if you’ve ever done anything interesting
enough to be reported in a newspaper, then be damned! We must not live
too publicly, we must pretty much live in a hole and not interact
outside of face-to-face contact. Not that that would be a bad thing,
especially in today’s society. But I’m really sick of this attitude
that it’s our responsibility to have our lives completely offline to
avoid this kind of thing…all too much like the “her clothing meant she
was asking for it” rape apology. Theft is still theft even if your
house is unlocked.

It is far to easy to use the internet as revenge and exploitation.
The article lists several examples of online fraud. Add to these the
high profile case of the Myspace hoax created by a mother-and-daughter that negligently caused the suicide of a young girl, the all-too-often posting of sexual photos and videos of ex-partners without any consent (and I’ve personally only ever seen women’s likenesses posted), and as I’ve written about previously,
we clearly have a social problem. It seems that teens and young adults
are hurt more than anyone, and that women are disproportionately
affected. We need a solution that takes into account the realities of
21st century life and technology. And we need it before more (women’s)
lives are ruined.

And gee, it wouldn’t hurt if women’s identities and reputations
weren’t so problematically inseparable from their identity as a human
being. That would be nice too.

I just finished reading a not so surprising yet still disturbing article out of Newsweek on Sunday. It focused on the latest edition of Italian Vogue. This month's edition featured all black models, which is supposed to give impetus to other magazines and modeling agencies to hire more diverse models, other than the standard iconic Barbie type. This article is a must-read. I know how important building self-esteem is in young girls, and we have to get past this steroeptyped beauty that is only blond hair and blue eyes. Just when it seems like we take one step forward....
Please click here to read full article... 

I'm celebrating the release of my new book with a giveaway! To enter to win an autographed copy of Girls Inc. Presents: You're Amazing! A No-Pressure Guide to Being Your Best Self, just tell me what makes YOU amazing!

Contest ends at 12 a.m. ET. Good luck!

Claire

Silly me. Just when I was getting comfortable with my body as it is, the blessed Style section of New York Times reminds me that if I don't engage in "pelvic fitness," my vagina could "become almost scrotal, very wrinkly and lax." Who knew? Slap the panic button, and hustle your bustle down to the nearest vagina spa near you to prevent this horrific tragedy!

Now, I know what you are thinking: "Vagina spa? What? Why on earth would I take cooter fitness classes or worse, have pussy surgery, to prevent an unsightly vagina when, well, there's nothing wrong with my vagina in the first place, and who really looks at it anyway?!?! And those fortunate enough to be acquainted with my bits should thank me for sharing what I've got. Harumph!" But that's the problem with you and me - we don't fully understand all the womanly things that need improvement. This is why the medical industry invented the term "cosmetogynecology." Yes, cosmetogynecology is the beautification of our plain old vages, which the always hilarious sex columnist Anka Radakovich once described as looking like a hairy roast beef. (This was not derogatory, just an observation.)

Oddly enough, not all women understand that doctors offering cosmetogynecology are just trying to help us! In fact, The Feminist Texican has the nerve to criticize this important, humanitarian practice:

I don’t believe I’ve yet stated my position on the cosmetogynecology being marketed to women these days (hymen reconstruction, labiaplasties, G-spot injections, etc.). Long story short: it’s a fucked up, multi-billion dollar male-dominated industry that preys on women’s insecurities and keeps furthering the goal posts to that ever-elusive standard of female perfection.

Goodness! If the next president doesn't pass some sort of universal beauty health insurance program so that we can ensure that our labias don't turn into old, ugly sacs, I will just give up forever on the possibility of a bright future in this country! I mean, we can already obtain financing so that the cost of plastic surgery doesn't "keep you from the body you deserve", but I'm worried that people like The Feminist Texican (and BlogHer's own contributing editor on pop culture, SJ, who upon hearing of these miracles pretty vaginas noted, "Oh noes, not scrotal! Is this the new insult lobbed at our ladyparts? It's not enough that we are supposed to wax and douche and perfume, but now if we "let ourselves go" we will become...scrotal...as well?") will prevent the rest of us from having the prettiest vaginas possible out of jealousy.

Now don't get me wrong, ladies. I'm not saying that the only important thing in life is to have a non-wrinkly vagina (although obviously that is something I spend hours worrying about), and remember that there are other benefits to doing vaginal exercises like Kegels. Babeland explains:

The PC muscle, short for the pubococcygeal muscle, cradles the internal sexual organs. It runs from the pubic bone to the tailbone in a figure eight around the genitals. Both women and men can benefit sexually from having a well-toned PC muscle; it can enhance your experience of orgasm and improve ejaculatory control, among other things.

The article goes on to outline simple steps that women can do for free to strengthen their vaginas. Of course, we aren't fooled: we know that things that are free are never as good as those that cost lots of money and/or require invasive procedures. Still, I'd be remiss to not the link in case you can't obtain financing to improve the appearance of your vagina. I know we ladies want to spend our hard-earned money (as Female Impersonator reminds us, "white women are still payed 77 cents to every white man's dollar, African-American women are payed 66 cents to a white man's dollar and Latina women earn 53 cents to a white man's dollar) wisely, and what can be more important than investing in a pretty snatch?

You'll have to thank me later for all this information. Now that I've seen the light on vaginal beauty, I have to run off to get my Brazillian wax so I can actually see my labia better (currently, there's just too much pesky pubic hair covering things up, which is why I had no idea how unattractive my vulva really is!- that is probably TMI, sorry...) and monitor it before it turns into a big, ugly, lax, wrinkly scrotum-thing.

Suzanne also blogs about life at Campaign for Unshaved Snatch (CUSS) & Other Rants and about creating positive social change at Just Cause. Her first book, "Off the Beaten (Subway) Track", will be available at the BlogHer conference in July.

A few weeks ago I boasted about how I wasn't going to be strutting my stilettos over to see the new "Sex and the City" movie. Then a few weeks later my summer movie preview post included the following quote under the heading "Movies I Would See To Please A Good Friend:

My good friend Kay talked me into almost seeing it on opening weekend. The only reason we didn't is because all the shows were sold out until 1am. I know I won't escape next time so I might as well slip on my Jimmy Choos and get ready.

Well Kay and I saw the "Sex and the City" movie last weekend, and no, we weren't the final two women in the world who hadn't seen it. There were plenty of women in the audience---and a sprinkling of men---so many in fact, we had to sit in the second row of the theatre in order to sit together.

If you've never watched a movie from the second row, you've missed one of the more memorable movie going experiences.  Let's just say Mr. Big wasn't just a nickname anymore.  That'll teach Kay and I to go for our Starbucks' fix ten minutes before showtime. 

As for the movie itself?  I found it moderately entertaining.  Too long at two hours and fifteen minutes, but moderately entertaining.  At what seemed the movie's three quarter mark, it suddenly occurred to me that Jennifer Hudson was supposed to be in the movie. She showed up ten minutes later, but not before Kay asked me in frustration what time it was and how long the movie was supposed to be.

All the usual elements of a "Sex and the City" episode were there: Carrie's funky fashions, Samantha's explosive libido, Charlotte's sunny disposition and Miranda's holier than thou attitude. 

***Warning Will Robinson, spoilers up ahead!***

The several plot threads revolved around all the characters we've come to know:  Big and Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) and whether or not they'd get married; Miranda and Steve and how they'd handle his infidelity; Samantha and Jerry and how she could maintain a monogamous relationship while still satisfying her sex drive; Charlotte and Harry and how many cute scenes they could have with their adorable daughter Lily.

Thankfully all the women were more grown up than in the the TV show and Carrie benefited the most from that much needed maturity.  For example, instead of being the doormat I expected her to be after Big leaves her at the altar, she beats him up with her wedding bouquet and kicks him and his custom made walk in closet to the curb.

Miranda fared the worst in the maturity stakes.  She'd turned into a Blackberry addicted, over-scheduled, work-a-holic whose marriage to an easygoing "average guy" was crashing under the weight of her rigid expectations and her surly disposition.

The things I didn't like about the TV show, I didn't like about the movie.  Big is not my idea of the ideal man, but Chris Noth at least gave him a bit more depth in the movie than we ever saw in the TV show.  I never believed Charlotte and Harry as a couple and watching them have sex was kind of like watching your parents have sex:  something you knew took place but that you never, ever wanted to see. 

The highlight of the movie was Dante, the object of Samantha's ogling desire and a joy to behold.  He had the luscious body of an Adonis and Samantha wasn't the only one wanting a piece of his action.  

And though it may sound like I'm totally down on the movie, I'm really not.  Any movie that deals with real world, modern day, mature women---and I don't mean mature in age, I mean temperament---I'm okay with it.  If they write more roles for minority women, I'll be even more okay with it.

More "Sex and the City Posts:"

Fellow BlogHer Contributing Editor Liz Rizzo liked the movie and says, "It's Not All About The Shoes."

Fellow BlogHer Contributing Editor Trisha Okubo has a roundup of fashion blogs that show you how to get the "Sex and the City" style, and all kinds of style, on a budget.

MelSil's post examines "Sex and the City" and feminism.

Kat at Love Me, Hate Me has been inspired to watch reruns of the TV show after having seen the movie.

Megan Smith is a BlogHer Contributing Editor covering TV/YouTube and she hopes to see you at the Women of Color and Entertainment Bloggers Meet-ups at BlogHer '08. Her other blogs are Megan's Minute and Video Runway.

This post about looking for "middle-aged" bloggers got me to thinking. First of all, what the hell is middle-age these days?  I'm almost 40 (less than a month to go!), and I spend less time thinking about age than I do about not being a mother in terms of blogging, as well as in general.  I'm not trying to start a war or anything, but sometimes, it's hard to be a non "mommy blogger" for a lot of reasons (monetary being one of them).  Don't get me wrong. It's been my choice not to have children, a choice I have never regretted, nor do I begrudge motherhood for anyone who wants that for themselves. But as comfortable as I am with my choices--as a single, almost middle-aged woman without children--I am beginning to feel like a real rarity in the America and any place I have to check boxes (like BlogHer).  I also realize that there are many women and men who would like to have children can cannot for various reasons.  And because theirs is not a choice, its not as easy to explain. 

Anyway, I grew up as the oldest of over 60 cousins and was a nanny so know as much about rearing children as anyone can who doesn't actually have one of their own.  That's not what this is about--its about getting stuck when one tries to categorize oneself into neat categories.  I know many "mommy bloggers" hate being thought of as, well, mommy bloggers--as if that's all they are.  I thought this could be a really interesting conversation.  Sometimes I feel like being a single, non-mother is a revolutionary act--at least I hope so the way some people react!  Of course, for me, choosing to be a mother would probably be even more revolutionary, but that's another story! Thoughts about not fitting into neat categories out there?  Did I read correctly--is there a session at BlogHer about being a non mommy-blogger at BlogHer?

In the spirit of Independence Day, I decided to exercise my freedom to get naked, in public!  I've been wanting to try a Never b4 that's a bit out of my comfort zone and taking it all off in broad daylight with hundreds of people around certainly fit the bill. 

There have been times in my life when I've shown a lot of leg or a little cleavage but I've never been brave enough to sport EVERYTHING.  Perhaps doing this for the first time at 40 wasn't the best decision for the viewing public, but one great thing I've noticed about turning 40 is that it's come with this invigorating feeling of "I have nothing to loose."

Gunninson Beach, New Jersey -- -- the most popular "clothing optional" beach on the East Coast -- was my stripping stage. Mentally, I was ready but physically, I needed prep time. 

1. Shaving: the legs and armpits were mindless rituals but suddently without a suit that "tricky bikini area" was suddenly uncharted territory.  I had no border to follow.  No edge to trim along.  Where to start?  Where to stop? What's the right style?  Did I need a scissor, too? As I stood in the shower, I laughed out loud knowing there were probably hundreds of websites that could have guided me.  But in the end, I just winged it, trimming enough to look groomed (I hoped) and leaving enough for discretion and sun protection (again, hopefully). 
2. Suntan Lotion: having been a lifeguard who was, summer after summer, unable to muster a full-blown Coppertone tan, I knew I needed at least one full coat of 50 SPF lube over the entire length of melanin-challenged body.  Thank God for spray-on lotions or else some hard-to-reach, and never-before-exposed places would be mighty crispy today.
3. A Beach Buddy: Should I go alone or ask someone to join me?  As someone that always wears a towel in the gym locker room, I'm clearly not comfortable being nude. So, laying naked on a blanket for a few hours with one of my best girlfriends just didn't feel quite right.  Honestly I envisioned doing this Never b4 alone, but my broken-ankled husband, the very person that threw down the gauntlet for this challenge by forwarding me the recent New York Times article about Gunnison Beach, insisted that I have someone with me. The one person I felt comfortable calling had to work on Thursday so even though my husband wasn't much interested in crutching around naked in 90 degree temps, he volunteered to be my bare-it-all beach buddy (or so we thought, at the time). 

We had 2 options for getting to Gunnison Beach: the SeaStreak Ferry (yes, Streak!) or our car.  Even though the s-Streak was nearly irresistable from a photo-op standpoint we opted for the longer car ride (1+ hour) so we could explore the entire Gateway National Recreation Area where Gunnison beach was nestled.  We timed our arrival to be well after the noon-day sun so my lilly white skin wouldn't turn redder than a blush from embarrassment.

While our timing may have been perfect, our vision of a boardwalk to the water's edge was completely wrong.  The boardwalk ended nearly 1/4 mile from the surf and crutching that distance in sand just wasn't going to happen -- naked or not.  The bright spot (in my husband's protective mind) was that the majority of beachgoers were couples so he finally felt comfortable with me dropping trou alone while he explored the rest of park in the car. 

Alone, I trodded acrosss the hot sand, out of the staid "clothing required" section into the mysterious "clothing optional" world.  My normal M.O. at the beach is to seek out a spot next to other pale-faces like me.  Yet, in a clothing optional world, I didn't want to look too closely at anyone to assess their tan. Yet from my fleeting glances it seemed everyone looked pasty.  Perhaps my assessment was swayed by the glow of the normally hidden body parts but regardless of the cause, it was clear that my normal strategy for selecting a good blanket spot, wasn't going to work here. 

90% of those around me now were nude so I was starting to feel ridiculous and hot in my tank top and shorts.  So, without further ado, I found an open spit of sand between a bunch of guys that were clearly only interested in their own company and a cluster of sunning couples.  Thankfully, I'd had enough forethought to put on bikini bottoms so my shorts were safe to take off...and then off came my tank top! 

Whew! No one noticed me topless. 
 
But I wasn't about to wait for anyone to glance my way so I laid down immediately and tried to read Barack Obama's book.  Ha!  Like that was going to happen!!!  I stared at the page but all I could think about was "should I take my bottoms off now, or wait?" 

Then, suddenly I realized that my most comfortable "on back, knees bent" position for sunning myself wasn't going to be so flattering without my suit bottom's on.  Also, I noticed that I had laid down facing the water whereas everyone in front of me, was turned the opposite way (facing me!) because the sun had dipped down in the western sky and they were catching every last ray they could.  Ugh! I couldn't take my bottoms off with all their faces pointing right at me.

I sat up, feeling less topless this time and twirled around to face the same direction as everyone else.  No one was in front of me now, so I whipped off my bottoms, laid down flat absolutely naked (and probably stiff as a board in my nervousness)!  I feigned to read more but eventually decided to just close my eyes.  This is when I felt the refreshing tickle of the ocean breeze and noticed how much cooler it was without the nylon of my suit against my skin.  It felt good and I finally started to relax.  Unfortunately, that's precisely when the green flies swooped in to attack my ankles, my thighs, my shoulders, my everywhere!

Slapping and flailing wasn't effective -- and certainly couldn't be flattering -- so I sat up and stayed up, opting for a good swatting position rather than a flattering pose.  I had rolls I wanted to ignore but when I looked around, so did most everyone else.  I also noticed that even though no one around me on the beach was in perfect shape, those that were naked looked better than those in bathing suits.  Even the nicest of suits just seemd to pinch and squeeze in unflattering ways.  To me, the naked old man with the big beer belly looked better than a similarly suited man with his beer belly hanging over a bright and tight banana hammock.

I lasted an hour in the sun with the green flies before packing it in to explore the rest of park with my husband.  During our tour, I was surprised to learn how this spit of land had played a critical role as a missile defense area during both world wars and throughout the cold war as well. Many remnants stand to remind visitors like us that this beautiful place played a very active role in protecting the freedoms we enjoy every day. 

Even though I never mustered enough bravery to get up and walk around Gunnison beach in my au naturel state, it felt great to exercise one of our more controversial freedoms near  a place that was pivotal in defending those very freedoms.  It was a powerful, and fun, way to start the July 4th weekend.

Happy Independence Day Everyone!

Happy Independence Day. In honor of the day, I've been thinking a lot about independence and dependence and how to have both in a relationship, in a life. I'm blogging about it here. I've curious what you think.

Forget the weird cosmetic things happening in Florida (dentists performing breast augmentations, surgeons putting in used implants, etc.), now a Manhattan gynecologist is jumping on the cosmetic bandwagon. Apparently it's not enough to do pap smears and deliver babies, the big bucks are in coming up with new cosmetic procedures to market to everyone with a pair.

The vagina appears to be the new frontier for cosmetic medicine.  There's a whole array of proceduress that the good gyno has designed just for us.  Dr. Romanzi (in a New York Times interview with Natasha Singer) claims that she's focusing on helping women with bladder issues post-babies, but what it really sounds like is she's targeting women that will do anything to obtain and retain a man. 

To read the rest of the post visit www.beautyandthebreast.org.

~Kacey