What's the Frequency Kenneth?

Last Wednesday, I took a closer look at the nail on my big left toe. It had been a bit yellowed for a few weeks, but I thought nothing of it. I hate feet. They are gross even under the best of circumstances, so my toes aren't exactly shining pedicured beauties and the slight discoloration didn't really register.

It turned out that my nail was sort of in the process of falling off. "Hmmm," I though. "I should probably do something about this." I considered ripping it off myself, but wasn't sure how much blood that would entail and how I might, without a toe nail, eventually stop it. So I put a bandage over it and called a podiatrist the next day. They gave me a Friday morning appointment.

The doctor looked at my toe and asked me when I traumatized it. "Huh?" I said. He said that I must have stubbed it at some point, causing the break, which was then allowed a fungus to get in. I wracked my brain. Maurice, the hamster who runs on the wheel that powers my brain, amped up. We came up blank. I'd think that something that would cause my toe nail to crack open would be something I might remember, but I guess not. The story of my life these days...

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On a side note, changes are coming to CUSS! I have an awesome person helping me deal with the technical issues that Blogger threw at me a few weeks ago (I can't use their publishing service after March 26 for a variety of reasons), and she's going to be moving CUSS to a WordPress format. CUSS readers (all two or so of you, who I love dearly) will still find the blog at the same URL, cussandotherrants.com, and I think the feeds won't be affected. It'll just be a shiny new look (eventually) and a different way to leave comments.

Anyway, given all the blogs out there and the limited amount of time people have in which to read them, I just want to thank you for reading CUSS. It means a lot to me.

Happy Anniversary, BlogHer!

Four years ago, someone took a chance on me. I'd only been blogging for a few months when I heard that BlogHer was looking for volunteer contributing editors for a new site they were launching. I rushed to their current homepage, noticed that people already claimed the topic I most wanted (feminism and gender), and saw that travel and recreation was still open. Well, I love traveling and do it a lot. I had just blogged a trip to France. I left a message with links to three posts (this was before I had any idea what HTML was, not that I'm an expert at it now), and hoped for the best.

Not long after, I heard from Lisa Stone, one of BlogHer's founders. She said that she "loved" my blog and offered me the gig. I was thrilled! (Re-reading her email today, which I just looked at again, brings tears to my eyes. Yeah, I still have an email from January 2006 in my inbox.) My first post - Introduction to Travel and Recreation appeared on January 22, 2006. I hoped for many things, but was not sure what to expect.

Four years later, I still write for BlogHer, although on feminism, not travel. It offered me a platform when I was just exploring writing. It offered me a platform when I sent out proposals for a travelogue I was writing about unusual things to see and do New York City. It offered me a platform when my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track, was published 2.5 years later. It offered me a platform to meet and be inspired by other women.

Sure, it hasn't been all champagne and roses. When I realized that my four year anniversary was coming up, I compared it to my marriage: sometimes I wanted to scream and stomp around with selfish, delusional indignity, but overall my life is richer, happier, and better in every way because I have it. (Husband was slightly offended by this analogy, but I stand by it.) I'm so lucky.

"I Am Not a Hero"

Miep Gies, one of five people who hid Anne Frank's family and four other people, died on Monday night. She was 100 years old. I read parts of her memoir, "Anne Frank Remembered," a few months ago when I went to research at the Holocaust museum in New York City.

"I am not a hero," she wrote. "I stand at the end of the long, long line of good Dutch people who did what I did and more - much - more during those day and terrible times years ago, but always like yesterday in the heart of those of us who bear witness."

If anyone can read those lines without crying, I don't understand how.

Today the New York Times published a letter from someone praising Mrs. Gies and lamenting the lack of "empathy, courage, and selflessness" that exists in people today, noting that these "were once the kinds of behaviors we valued most in human beings." This is a nice sentiment, but it is not true. It has never been true. If we really valued these behaviors, the Holocaust would not have happened. Years of institutionalized and individual racism would not exist because people would have stood up and said, "This is wrong," no matter what the cost. People were as narcissistic and self-involved back then as they are today. That is what makes Miep Gies so special.

Mrs. Gies said that she was "only one" of many who acted so humanely and courageously, but that is another indication of her generous nature. Then and now, people pay enormous lip service to the "sanctity of life." Most people will not risk their own lives to stand up for others. I think often about what I would do if I were in Mrs. Gies situation. I only hope that I would act as she did.

Awesomeness

My cousin told me to say hi to Tina and Alex when I went for my taping at 30 Rock, but sadly, I did not see them. Heck, I didn't even see the guy who plays the page. Or Janice Huff, my favorite weather person, who I'd be far more likely to run into since I was on the same floor as the news. I think.

The lack of celebrity sightings did not make my first TV appearance* any less exciting. AnneLise calmed my nerves, assuring me that I did not look like a zombie with too much eye makeup. She also said she liked my pixie haircut. Once I saw myself on the monitor, I felt a little better. AnneLise and I sat in front of a green screen, and I thought the subway car backdrop that they chose was pretty awesome.

AnneLise was great leading the interview, and I had a fun time talking to her. The production staff was also very nice. After we finished, they asked if it was my first time taping for TV. When I said yes, they said I was very professional. It was just a super experience overall. I can't thank AnneLise enough, and I also can't wait to see the segment on New York Nonstop!

*This discounts various times that I showed up in the audience of shows, like The Bozo Show when I was a kid, or during my period of talk show obsessions in 1994-1995, when I made a comment on The Rikki Lake Show and possibly also The Rolanda Show. Also, I ever so briefly appeared eating hot dogs in MTV's episode of Real Life ("I Want to Be a Professional Eater") because I stuffed my face next to Tim "Eater X" Janus, who was featured on the program. Although exciting, I do not count these.

And That's the Whole Story

Since the job search is going slooooow, and I'm caught up with my school work, I figured I'd stretch out typing up Always until tomorrow. Then I found out that Planned Parenthood needed volunteers tomorrow for a health insurance campaign, so I figured I could at least do something productive with my time. Plus, I got an email from a friend complementing me on my "sweet" story, noting that my "use of dramatic irony was pretty sophisticated for a middle-schooler." And nothing motivates me more than flattery, so I got my ass in gear and got the rest of the story online.

I'm glad that someone is enjoying the cheese-tastic goodness of my weird 13 year old ego. Regardless, I definitely watched too much LA Law, Hill Street Blues, and St. Elsewhere. Oy vey.

Hitting the Big Time - Inconceivable!

Last week was (another) rough week. This not having a job thing is really weighing on me. Even though other good things are happening, I've been in a serious unemployment funk.

Then, as I was moping around Grand Central Station on Thursday while waiting for a friend, I received the following email on my BlackBerry:

I'm writing to invite you to a live radio show at the UCB Theater in Chelsea next week, Weds, Oct 7th between 6-7pm. I'm sorry for the short notice, but one of our listeners suggested you as a guest, and you'd be in great company -- also booked for that evening is author/actor Wallace Shawn and comedian Brent Weinbach. We'd love to
talk about your book "Off the Beaten Subway Track" and get some tips from you about exploring NYC.

The show is a WFMU radio talkshow called "Seven Second Delay" hosted by Andy Breckman and Ken Freedman. Andy's the creator and executive producer of the Emmy-award winning show Monk, airing on the USA Network, and Ken is General Manager of WFMU, an independent radio station. They co-host Seven Second Delay, an hour-long
loosely-formatted radio show that broadcasts live from the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater in Chelsea and reaches about 30,000 listeners an episode. More information on the show is available here: http://sevenseconddelay.blogspot.com/.

Are you available? Interested? We also have a date in November we
could look into.

Am I interested? Am I available? Fuck yeah!!! Not only does it sound like a rad radio show with awesome hosts, but Wallace Shawn from the motherfucking movie The Princess Bride is going to be on. Missing that show would be inconceivable! (Which, I am embarrassed to admit, was more or less my reply. I am glad they still wanted me after I made that lame joke.)

This invitation perked me right up, and I've been feeling much better these past few days. I owe it all to Pamela. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Pamela!

As noted, the show is on Wed., Oct. 7 at 6 pm at the UCB Theater (307 W. 26th Street). It only costs $5 to see me share a stage with Wallace Shawn. Inconceivable, I know. The show also streams online or can be heard on the old fashioned radio at 91.1 FM in New York, at 90.1 FM in the Hudson Valley. I am major excited.

The Rabbi and The Librarian (Not a Joke)

So many of my posts are focused on the people who disgust and disappoint me by working to reduce understanding between people and to eliminate freedom while claiming they are protecting the community. Today's post is different. Rabbi Caspers Funnye and Judith Krug are two people who work(ed) to create a better society.

During the festivities surrounding Pres. Obama's inauguration, I read a story that mentioned that his family contingent was undoubtedly the most diverse of any president's. It included Southest Asians, African-Americans, Canadians, and a rabbi. "A rabbi?" I thought. "Why hadn't I heard about this person before, especially when people were spreading all those hideous rumors that Obama was anti-Semetic?"

Well, a few weeks ago, the New York Times Magazine ran a story about the rabbi. Turns out that Rabbi Caspers Funnye is Michelle's cousin, and that he is on a mission to bridge the gulf between the black and white Jewish communities. Amazing person, although of course I am not down with the traditional gender segregation they practice in his congregation. Still, I would love to get involved in creating a more diverse understanding of Judaism, although I have no idea how to do so.

In today's Times, there's a small piece commemorating the work of Judith Krug, who passed away on Sat. Ms. Krug headed the American Library Association's Office for Intellectual Freedom, battling censorship and fear. During the Bush administration, my mother-in-law, who is a children's librarian, proudly noted that librarians were at the forefront of protecting First Amendment rights. They were supposed to report on anyone who checked out suspicious books or looked at "bad" web sites, but many librarians refused to do so. Engaging in this battle for over 40 years, Judith Krug set a great example of leadership for not only librarians, but for all of us who truly care about creating democracy.

schmoozer, loser

6:52 pm
Greetings from the corner of a fancy awards dinner! When I was invited to the event last week, I was excited. What a great opportunity to meet people, I thought. Of course, I forgot how bad I am at schmoozing.

I also appear to be one of four women not wearing stilettos. The fact that I am decked out in neon green wellies is probably not making me a more enticing person to network with, either. But it is slushy and cold, dammit! What else should I wear?

Ok, off to my table, where hopefully my host will not be embarrassed by me. At least I left my bear hat and backpack at the coat check...

Update from home: Once I joined my table, all was well. No one seemed at all disturbed at what I thought passed for "festive attire," as the invitation specified. Lots of cool reproductive rights and social justice types to chat with, plus the woman I sat next to graduated from my high school in 1987. Everyone rocked! I am very glad that I attended, and thankful to my host for thinking of me.

Reason #27,294 Why I Love New York

This is the first thing I saw when I left my building this morning:



Thanks to the anonymous mini snowman builder, I will smile all day.

Stats

The year is 1/12 (8.4%) over already. For some reason, I find that reassuring.

I have completed four full work weeks (20 work days) already. I missed one (Friday) due to illness.

Thanks to a debacle* that had me spazzing for an hour on Friday while I was supposed to be convalescing, I finally discovered that from 8/1/08 to 11/1/08, I sold 960 copies of my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. I don't know if that is considered good or not, but I'm pleased anyway. (BIG THANK YOU to all of you nice people who bought a copy or, in some cases, as many as fifteen - which is 1.5% of all sales. I'm lucky to have such supportive friends.)

I called my doctor yesterday to report my ailing condition. He said I should wait at least another 7-10 days before considering antibiotics. I'm at the point where I'm blowing out all the really yellow, thick, sometimes bloody (it's dry in here) mucus, so I suspect I'll be better by then.

Today is the second day in a month in which the temperature is expected to go above 35 degrees. (Although it is 30 now, it is supposed to get up to 45.) I have not left the house in 2 days. I'm debating whether I should go to a "porkapalooza" Super Bowl party catered by the infamous chow hound restaurant Momofuku or continue my self-imposed house arrest.

Regardless, happy first day of February and enjoy the 32nd day of 2009!

*Oh, the debacle is that my publisher is out of business. My agent received a letter on Jan. 30 that was dated Dec. 24 and had been sent to the wrong address informing us that most of the catalog was sold to another publisher, they didn't pick up my book. Hence, all copies were now remaindered (i.e. - unavailable for distribution) and my contract granted the rights back to me and the option to purchase them for $1.88 per copy to find a new distributor. FREAK OUT!!! I didn't even know how many copies sold. (And I still don't know how many were printed.) An hour later, my agent called back. He tracked the publisher down and was told "to disregard the letter. That deal fell through, and we sold the catalog to another company, which did pick up Susan's [sic] book." My heart began beating at a more regular pace again.

Nosiness

My nose is frequently cold.* Usually to warm it up, I press my face into Husband's neck. This tends to amuse him, but he worries about me when he's not around, so for Hanukkah he gave me a custom knit nose warmer in Mets team colors:

Very awesome! He's so clever, that Husband of mine.

Hope everyone's holidays were full of warmth!

*As are my fingers and toes. The extremities could use a little more blood circulation, I think.

'Tis the Season

For Hanukkah last night, Husband gave me this cute sweater dress:


I am surprised and delighted that it fits, and I plan to bring it with me on my trip to California.

More exciting, however, is the mop that I purchased for myself:


It would be even better if my apartment looked as sparkling clean as the home pictured on HSN, but whatever. As I put the mop together, my cousin laughed and told me that it looked phallic as I clenched it between my legs while struggled to slide slot A into slot A. We also had a good chuckle over the "instructions" that came with it:

for fun, try attaching the cloths or mop pad using only your mind. It helps if you squint.

I am disturbingly overjoyed at the prospect of using it tomorrow. Finally, the bottle of floor cleaner that Sara gave me a month ago when I did laundry at her apartment will be put to use!

Happy holidays indeed!

Flattery Makes Me Giggle and Blush

As usual, I've been obsessing about my hair for the last few weeks. Since I went super short in March 2006, I've been mistaken for a dyke many times. There is nothing inherently wrong with that, of course, except that I'm not a dyke. After my last hair cut two weeks ago, I decided that enough was enough, and I should grow my hair back.

Then after class on Wednesday night, I went out with a group of people. My friend Vicky's friend's friend met up with us.

"I hope I won't offend you," he said to me, "and I'm sure you hear it all the time, but you look exactly like Jane Wiedlin."

"Huh?" I said, clueless as usual. The name rang a very faint bell, but part of the problem was that I could not hear what he said over the background noise.

"You know, the guitarist from the Go-Gos."

I sort of did know. I certainly knew enough to know that it was a major compliment. Vicky's friend's friend used his Blackberry machine thing to search the internet for a picture of Ms. Wiedlin. When he showed it to me, I nearly fell over:



Fuck yeah, that is a big compliment. I puffed my chest out and everything. Usually, if I'm compared to any famous person, it is Anne Frank. And while I think Anne Frank was an amazing person, it is just a wee bit depressing to be compared to her. But Jane Wiedlin! Shit! I'll keep the hair cut, and this is almost enough to make me start wearing make-up.

Happy Blogiversary, CUSS!

As we walked home from dinner on Friday night, I told Husband that Sunday is the 3rd anniversary of CUSS. "Did you think it would be a fad when I started blogging?" I asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I mean, how many blogs make it past a few months, or even weeks, before people move on?"

Yet, here we are. Blogging, as cliche as it may sound, changed my life. When I drafted my first blog post, I was a burned out do-gooder on the verge of snapping. Even though I only wrote a few paragraphs every day, I realized how much I enjoyed writing my little stories and rants. I "met" awesome people, some of whom even softened my hard core stance against unshaved snatch. A year later, I pursued a life that incorporated writing.

Although, some of what I wrote on Oct. 19, 2005 makes me cringe, I think in celebration of three years of blogging and personal growth, it is worth republishing. Happy Blogiversary, CUSS!

Why the world needs pubic hair

Far be it from humble unstylish little me to suggest that the New York Times Style Section is lagging on their trend reports, but in a Sept. 1 article titled "Skin Deep: The Revised Birthday Suit," they breathlessly reported that significant numbers of women are opting for totally bald crotches, or if not totally bald, then certainly having large tracts of hair ripped out so they can look "sexy." Please. Cosmo has been reporting for years that men prefer women with little or no pubic hair. Brazilian waxes went mainstream along time ago. Which, quite frankly, scares me. What on earth would make a woman spread her legs wide in front of a cosmetician, allow her to smear hot wax into her vagina, and then have all her hair ripped out? This sounds like something the US government might institute as a torture tactic in Abu Gharib. (And they could easily justify it by noting it can't possibly be torture if gazillions of American women voluntarily have this done all the time.)

No, it is scary and wrong to me. For goodness' sake, pubic hair exists for a reason. We lost most of our body hair during evolution. We lost our tails. We grew taller. So what's left seems to have a purpose. And we need our pubic hair! Think of pubic hair as vagina eyelashes - they stop bad things from getting inside during sex and causing infections. Pubic hair is our friend.

I'm not sure how we so quickly arrived at this hairless situation, but it's arguable that it is the popularity of g-strings, thongs, and other revealing bikini bottoms and underwear that led to the widespread (ha ha) acceptance and even expectation of shaved beavers. Fair enough, but I'd say that if your cooch hairs are hanging out of your bikini bottom, the solution is not to have them torn out of your vag and butt, but to get bigger bottoms. Think of pubic hairs as an organic warning system of sorts. It's Mother Nature preventing you from humiliation by telling you to put on some clothes because you look obscene.

Let's face it: female genitals got the nicknames pussy and beaver because they are furry. And who wants a hairless cat? No one. Having a hairless cat doesn't even help if you are allergic to cats since the problem is with the dander, not fur. Feline pussies with fur are nice to stroke. Hairless cats are freaky. The same goes for human pussies and beavers, my friends.

Good Deeds

The fine people at BlogHer are participating in the DonorsChoose Challenge. Basically, because public education is grossly underfunded in communities across America, teachers often spend their own money on supplies for the kids. Since many teachers are underpaid, they often cannot afford the things that they need for special projects that enrich kids' lives and help them learn. DonorsChoose is a website that lets teachers tell potential donors about what they need for their classroom and why. If donors like the idea, they can give a portion of the project cost or the full amount. All the projects are awesome.

For the DonorsChoose Challenge, I decided to write about a project called Puzzling Diversity. Mrs. G teachers four year olds in a low income community in Oklahoma. She would like puzzles for her pre-k classroom that illustrate the different types of careers that people from various ethnic backgrounds and genders can aspire to. I believe that almost nothing is more important than quality early childhood education, and I also love that Mrs. G is working with her kids at a young age to see outside of restrictive gender stereotypes and dream about what they can be when they grow up. Puzzles are also critical tools to help children develop fine motor skills and develop a spatial reasoning. Puzzling diversity really touches me in so many ways.

To equip her classroom with puzzles illustrating positive behaviors, Mrs. G only needs $75 more dollars. If 75 people give a dollar each, that would do it. I know that these are terrible times economically, but I think most people can spare a $1 to help kids. If you give $1 today, research on the benefits of quality early childhood education indicates that you will actually save between $7 and $17 in future spending (i.e. - taxes) because these programs lower the rate of dropping out of school, teen pregnancy, juvenile delinquency, repeated grades, and other social ills. So it's a double benefit to support Puzzling Diversity if you think about it.

When I was a wee lass, I wanted to be president when I grew up. I also, at various points, wanted to be Jenny Lind (aka The Swedish Nightengale; a singer who toured the world and charmed audiences with her melodious voice in the early 1900s), Florence Nightengale, a teacher, and/or a bank teller. Husband wanted to drive the bus to the zoo when he was pre-school age. How about you?

Beep Beep! Horn Tooting Time

I just adore this post that I wrote for BlogHer today about a crackpot new study that claims that the Pill leads women to choose the "wrong" partner. (The study involves 97 women thinking about taking the Pill, sweaty shirts, and sniffing. Sounds like a sound methodology, doesn't it?) There are days when I think I might be one of the dumbest people on earth, and then moments like know when I am so pleased with my cleverness that I sound like an egomaniac. What can I say?

As long as I am encouraging people to read things that I wrote that I consider funny, I might as well put out another plea for reviews on my book over at Amazon. If you read it and liked it, please let potential buyers know how you felt. (Even if you didn't like it, it would be helpful to know why.) Those of you who already posted something have my eternal gratitude. Those who post in the future will also have it. I don't think it takes long to post, and you can even use a fake name. How often does something that takes five minutes earn someone eternal gratitude?!?!

Guest Blogging at NYU

I'm pleased to announce that I was invited to guest post today at the NYU Arts and Science Blog! I used the opportunity to suggest a few small museums near NYU's Washington Square campus, and proposed a short "subway road trip" that is easy to embark upon from the NYU area.

While I have not been active with the alumni association at my school at NYU for a variety of reasons, I really do owe my current life situation to the university. I moved out to New York City almost 14 years ago (August 28, to be precise) to attend college there. Taking advantage of all my AP test scores, I graduated in three years, which was more than enough time for me. In those three years, I went through several dorming "situations" that made me relieved to be finished.

But in that same time period, I met Husband, "Big Giraffe" (who 6 years later became my high school friend Alex's husband), Steph, Dianne, Dr. P, Dr. H, and Dr. F, among other friends, at NYU. Through the Dean's Circle program, I was able to travel abroad for the first time, awakening my thirst for travel. And, of course, I began my love affair with New York. Although I initially planned to go back to Chicago after I finished school, I realized that I belonged in New York.

Eleven years later, I hope that love comes through in Off the Beaten (Subway) Track. I owe it all to NYU.

Probably won't be included in the press release...

The always wonderful Denise at Flamingo House Rules wrote a great review of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track that made me laugh my ass off as much as the book made her laugh her ass off.

My favorite line: "The penis jokes in the book - awesome."

Now, if only I could convince the publishing folks to include that in a reviews section on the press release...

(By the way, if anyone is interested in doing a blog book tour, I'm so up for it! Also, I'd forever be grateful if readers could post reviews on their blogs - which I would of course link to - as well as on Amazon. My friend/agent says it is critical to do so.)

Tell Amazon What You Think

One of the talented individuals who took photos for the book IM'd me on Wednesday night and said that his copy of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track (OTBST) arrived! I jumped up and down with excitement, but I also wanted to puke because I am so nervous about what people will think. I hope people will enjoy it, but if not, I'd like to know why. (Feedback will only help me with my next book, whatever that may be.)

If and when you read OTBST, I'd be grateful if you could post a review at Amazon. I'm not pimping for five stars (although I'll take 'em if I earn 'em!), but honest comments. Reviews can be submitted under a pen name, although that is not initially clear when you log in. So if you hate it but don't want me to know, or you love it and want to stalk me, you can do it under a fake name and I'll never be wiser.

As always, I hope that CUSS readers know how grateful and appreciative of all the support you have given me throughout this process, and your enthusiasm for the book. It's just so wonderful to have a network of people, and I promise to return your energy when you write your books.

Big Kudos

I know nothing about building websites or graphic design. Hence I owe enormous thanks to two men for helping me put together a fantastic (new) website for my book, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track.

My friend Alex's husband (blog name: Big Giraffe, or BG), very kindly put together a website for my book several months ago. He asked me what I wanted, and I said something that conveys information about what the book is about, where to buy it, and how to get in touch with me. He produced a great site that was simple enough for even a tech-idiot like myself to update, and included elements like an upcoming events sidebar. It's been great!

My brother-in-law, who runs a home cooking events business called Hot Pot, is not only a marketing guru, but a graphic design genius. He designed the awesome invitation for my book party, and thought that he could cook up something snazzy along those lines for the website. Using BG's framework and his enormous creative skills, Off the Beaten (Subway) Track looks super cool.

Once again, I am left to hope that the contents of the book can live up to its packaging!!! Thanks to both my brother-in-law and BG for all their hard work. I am so grateful.

Un-Mar-ring a Bad Day

Yesterday? From the moment I woke up at 7:40 am until Alex called to chat at 4 pm, yesterday sucked.* It was a case of too much time on my hands and too much to obsess about.

Mar was supposed to arrive in New York around noon yesterday on her way to London with her mom. Thanks to evil weather in the Midwest (and I'm sure the steady rain here didn't help), her flights were canceled. I had planned an exciting day of Jewish deli food and a tour of the Theodore Roosevelt birthplace, but it was not meant to be.

Happily, Mar's flight did arrive in the evening, and instead of crashing at her hotel after a loooooong day of travel frustrations, Mar and her mom trooped over to my apartment. Further, they good naturedly followed me around in the rain as I showed them the sights of my 'hood: Natural History Museum; New York-Historical Society; and John Lennon memorial in Central Park. Then Mar gently reminded me that she had not eaten in 9 hours, so we headed over to a kosher deli for some grub before the delightful women headed back to their hotel near JFK, which takes about an hour by subway.

While I am disappointed that I didn't get to spend more time with Mar, I am so glad that we finally met! She is as awesome and adorable in person as she is online. Her mom rocked the house, too. I just love meeting my blog friends and their cool moms and/or dads. I hope that the ladies have a fantastic time in London, and I can't wait to see Mar again. She lives in the same town as my sister, so I figure we can meet up in exciting Iowa sometime this year. (My sister is determined to have me come to talk to her class of first graders about being an author, so I figure I'll go out there in the fall when my book is out.)

Anyway, after seeing my visitors off at the subway station, I returned home to find a thoughtful email from Eddie, plus lots of nice comments on my blog, including a tag from Warrior Two. Yay for blog friends!!!!

*Although the two episodes of The Golden Girls that I caught on TV were hilarious.

Bueno Sera, La Fortuna

Here I am eating my last French bread pizza and lemon cookie at Cafe La Fortuna. In the summer of 1997, Husband I moved to the Upper West Side so that I could live near Fordham Law School, which I was to attend in the fall. (That lasted for two days. I came to my senses and dropped out of law school first thing in the morning of my third day.) We were not thrilled about leaving behind the Village, where we had met while undergrads at NYU. The family-friendly Upper West Side seemed boring and sedate compared to the cafe culture of the Village.

Cafe La Fortuna was the first place I went to that made me feel like I could not only survive on the Upper West Side, but actually enjoy it. It was John Lennon and Yoko Ono's favorite cafe. Opera memorabilia adorned the cozy walls, arias played over the sound system, and on warm days, there was a lovely backyard in which to sip iced tea and eat scrumptious desserts. Best of all, they had French bread pizzas for only $3.00! No one was ever in a rush at the cafe. It was a soothing and delightful place.

Over the past 11 years, Husband and I came to love the homey feeling of the Upper West Side. We have lived in three different apartments in the neighborhood, all within 10 blocks. Sadly, we also watched gentrification encroach upon our adopted mixed income neighborhood. It's nearly impossible to buy a one bedroom apartment for under $600,000, and renting one will run about $2,500 a month. Lately, the spread of wine bars, designer boutiques, and Pinkberry frozen yogurt shops has happened so fast I sometimes don't even comprehend the net loss.

Thus it is with Cafe La Fortuna. As you can see below, a combination of rising rents and devastating personal loss led to the closing of my favorite neighborhood refuge. Today was its last day of business, and it was packed with people like us who wanted to say good-bye. My French bread pizza was more like $7 or $8, but it tasted every bit as good as it did when I first took a bite 11 years ago.


Thanks, Cafe La Fortuna, for 11 years of good eats and good times. We'll miss you.

CUSS Readers: Brilliant and HiIlarious

Just so you know, I wrote a rambling post over at BlogHer about the evils of douche, which we explored over here at CUSS back in October. Since I thought your comments on that post were exceptionally funny, I included them with links to your blogs. Feedback on the BlogHer post indicates that you are all brilliantly insightful. Thanks for being so awesome! Don't you think there should be an official blog reader appreciation day?

This is only the most recent event this week that reminds me how lucky I am. On Wednesday night, I found $40 on the sidewalk. Yesterday, Husband found out that he is getting a very nice bonus from work, which made me feel less bad about spending $2.69 on a carton of siggi's icelandic skyr yogurt. (But, damn, that is a fuckload to spend on a single yogurt!) Today, I am celebrating how cool it is to connect to such awesome people through blogging.

Happy New Year!

Normally, I hate New Year's Eve. For the past few years, I would feel hope and excitement for what was to come, only to realize that nothing magically changes just because it is a new year. We still had the same buttfuck for a president, I still had the same job, and things just rolled along. Even though I knew that change happens as it comes, not on a schedule, I was still depressed for the first few weeks of January.

Today I am more positive. I know that nothing will be different in the next few hours, but there is so much to look forward to this year. My book will be coming out, I'll have a new job, and maybe I'll even be starting an MFA program. A number of my dear friends recently had or are having children in 2008, and it makes me smile to think about being Aunt Suzanne.

This past year brought many excellent developments for me, too. My sister, who had been trying to find a teaching job in Iowa for five years, finally was hired to teach first grade and is thriving. (Even better, kids at a troubled school are lucky enough to have her as their teacher.) Some of my friends had babies, and others became pregnant. My friends who have kids already have wonderful families. Almost my whole family was able to come east and celebrate my brother-in-law's wedding with my in-law family. I was not only able to see my family in Chicago a few times this year, but I traveled around the world. And, of course, my book about unusual things to see and do in my beloved New York City finally found a publisher after I'd worked on the concept for almost three years. I doubt that 2008 will top any of this, but that's OK. There's new and interesting things coming our way.

Here's to a year free of sea urchins and full of unshaved snatch! (Translation: I hope that everyone has a healthy and happy new year!)

Priests Are So Sexy

Brother-in-Law (BiL) and Sister-in-Law (SiL) searched high and low for an appropriate souvenir for me while they were on their honeymoon in Italy. Their original idea was to purchase a fancy Venetian glass figurine of a beaver for me. After learning the Italian word for beaver (castoro), they asked at many shops, and many shop keepers laughed. They learned that castoro can also mean "goatee," which is fascinating, but not helpful to their quest. No one made glass beavers. (Incidentally, they did get a cute glass pussy for Mother in Law...)

Since no glass beavers were to be secured, they bought me the next best thing:



Your eyes do not deceive you. This is the cover photo from a sexy priest calendar.

"We thought this was a Steph-worthy gift," BiL said proudly as he handed me the calendar. SiL beamed.

My jaw hit the ground. Other than stammering, "Damn! This is the most perverse gift I've ever received," over and over again, I was speechless. Well done, BiL and SiL. Well done.

And a Good Time Was Had by All...

Yesterday was Brother-in-Law's wedding, which is why I've been MIA online this weekend. Here I am in my bridesmaid costume:



Have no fear: Sister and Mom asked me what the hell I was thinking with the earrings, so I took them off and wore my regular little studs. The maid of honor did my make-up for me, using the crap that I bought a few months ago when I was interviewed for a documentary about abortion. Is it not amazing? I love that it subtlety brightens my crabby sourpuss. (And although Husband and I are pictured together elsewhere on the internet, I cropped him out of this picture. He looked very handsome in his best man tux, though.)

Anyway, my whole family (minus poor Granny, who was not able to come at the last minute due to health issues - wah! it would have been ever more fun with her) came out and we had a blast at the wedding. Sister and Sister's Husband went back to Iowa today. My mom, dad, and bubbe are in my living room as I type this. More tomorrow after they leave.

2 Years of CUSS!

With all the excitement that is going on these days with the book, applying to writing programs, and the imminent arrival of my family for Brother-in-Law's nuptials, I nearly forgot that today is the two year anniversary of the Campaign for Unshaved Snatch (CUSS) & Other Rants. Two years ago today, I was a frustrated, dissatisfied do-gooder on the way to meet another do-gooder friend for French onion soup. My day had been particularly distressing, as was often the case with my former career, and I found myself sitting on the subway seething over an ad for bikini waxing. Moments later, I formulated a plan: instead of stabbing people, I needed a blog to vent, and it needed a catchy title. Somehow the whole CUSS acronym popped into my feral mind and I knew that I found a way to salvation.

I disembarked from the subway and ran to tell my friend about it. The bar we were meeting at gave crayons to patrons (how perfect is that?) and I drew a little diagram on my placemat outlining the CUSS credo. When I got home a few hours later, I posted my very first blog entry.

Since then, I've loosened my no-waxed/shaved-snatch stance a bit because I met so many awesome women who explained to me why they preferred trimming, waxing, or shaving their cooters. None of them did it because some cretins think that pubic hair automatically makes women dirty or smelly, so who the hell was I to tell them how to deal with their boxes? Understanding other people - this is what I consider progress. I'm glad that CUSS opened me up to new ideas, not only about landing strips, but on a wide spread (heh heh) range of topics. It led me to meet so many awesome people who I am proud to call friends.

Now I'm getting all choked up. The truth is that I'd probably blog whether people read my blog or not because I discovered that I find writing to be fun and therapeutic. However, it would be far less meaningful if it wasn't for the select segment of the blogging community in which I've become a part. Here's to the next two years.

Let's Talk about Sex, Baby: An Interview with Logan Levkoff, Sexuality Expert

Let me say this upfront: when I found this spring that my friend Logan Levkoff was writing a book about how to talk to your kids about sex, I nearly burst with anticipation. Logan is like the super cool older sister that everyone wishes that they had in their life. She grew up in Long Island (not far from Husband, actually), became a sex columnist in college (although unlike me, she was successful), and went to NYU's prestigious PhD program in human sexuality. Thus when the chance to offer CUSS as a site for Logan's virtual book tour arose, I nearly fell over myself. Her book, Third Base Ain't What It Used to Be, not only tackles the really tough questions and topics about sex and sexuality, but it also totally cracked me up when Logan described her own experiences with puberty and sex. (This woman so needs to write a memoir next.) Here, Logan tolerates a few of my lame-ass questions:

Suzanne: The book is sort of ironic because your main point is extremely "conservative" - the best place for kids to learn about sex is from their parents. How does this idea work with the need for comprehensive sex ed in schools?

Logan: Technically, there is no reason why parents can't be the best sexuality educators (if they step up to the plate and start being realistic about the importance of sexuality and the contradictory sex messages in our culture). I suppose what makes this the antithesis of "conservative" is that by no means do parents have to be the only educators. I am a staunch advocate of comprehensive sexuality education and think that it can be a tremendous supplement to at-home education. Of course, if parents aren't doing any sex-ed at home, what a child gets at school becomes their only education. While I believe that parents should give both values and facts - often times parents just give the value-part - comprehensive sex ed can give the factual element. Hopefully, after reading this book, there will be so much high quality sex ed going on that our children are in the best shape possible.

S: You say that parents need to be honest about controversial topics like abortion and masturbation, but also stick to their values. How can parents whose values conflict with the facts find a way to properly convey information to their kids?

L: I believe that its okay for parents to teach their kids about their values, but that doesn't mean a child will share those same beliefs. And though values are important, I do stress in the book that parents MUST give facts, too. For example, a parent can say that he/she doesn't believe in masturbation (though that to me is always counterintuitive - it is a safer, very healthy sexual activity), but he/she cannot tell their child that bad things will happen to the body if they do.

S: In your experience working with young adults, how do gender roles influence how teenagers use their sexuality?

L: My goodness...where to begin? Gender roles (or more importantly, what is expected from a particular gender) has a tremendous impact on how teen behave sexuality. Sadly, the double standard still exists (though I spend all my life trying to change that) and both boys and girls suffer. Girls are taught that they can't own their sexuality and their innate desires (for fear that they will be branded a "slut") and boys are convinced that there is something wrong with them if they are not sex-crazed players devoid of emotional attachment. The fact is, sexuality is important to both genders. In many cases, when teens buy into this, they use drugs or alcohol to justify the feelings that they have - or don't demand protection because they fear that speaking up isn't something they are "supposed" to do. Also, girls are still "servicing" boys orally - this on its own isn't a problem - but the fact that there is very little reciprocation and a disgust of their own bodies is! We need to stress that expressing sexuality is different for every individual - there is no blanket expression that works for an entire gender; we do a disservice to our children and teens when we don't give them that information.

S: On page 49, you wrote, "Most children are desperate to 'avoid' puberty..." Have truer words ever been written? (Sorry I know that is really not a question, but as someone still trying to recover from puberty, the line particularly resonated with me.)

L: I too remember the angst of being an early developer - which also meant that I "stopped" developing earlier than everyone else too. Many of my students are consumed by the anxiety surrounding puberty - even though it's the most natural thing. Parents can ease this by talking about their own experiences (both fathers and mothers should be talking - not just one gender with the same gender child) and explaining that though this is a confusing time, it's pretty amazing what the body can do.

S: What is the most important message you want to give parents (and other concerned adults, like aunts, godparents, educators, and "role models") about helping kids develop into healthy, sexually responsible individuals?

L: Stress to your kids that sexuality is an important, pleasurable part of their lives - it is not separate from their overall health; it is a part of it. Kids who know this (and feel empowered to ask questions, challenge media messaging, and respect all people regardless of their gender, race, religion, and sexual orientation) won't act irresponsibily. They will make deliberate, educated decisions about how they choose to express their sexuality and when they choose to become sexually active.

Last, our culture currently makes sex and sexuality something dirty, gratuitous and exploitative. If we teach our children to challenge this (and encourage them to do so), we may start seeing more healthy and positive representations of sexuality and gender!

S: As an aside, I also want to say that the reason I thought this book worked so well is that you bring in your personal and professional experience, making an uncomfortable topic into something that I related to and even laughed along with. It's very accessible. Anyone who has kids or who, like me, is not a parent but a committed godparent and future aunt, really should read this book. It's just great.

Logan's book, "Third Base Ain't What It Used to Be" is on sale now.

Much Appreciation

Despite all my bluster and bravado, I've been having a tough few weeks for a variety of personal reasons. I hit a big nasty low yesterday night, and I couldn't sleep. When I went to check my email, I got this message in conjunction with an article I wrote at The Panelist, Breast Cancer for Fun and Profit:

You are my new hero!... Thank you!!!

Whoever you are, debutaunt, this meant more to me right now than you know. Thank you.

And thanks to everyone else who has been a good friend to me lately, whether online or in person or both. There's nothing horrible happening in my life or anything to worry about, but I especially appreciate your friendship these days. You rock. Also, I have been cheering myself up considerably by reviewing all of the nice pictures I posted and things I wrote about my parents' house. Even though my affectionate mockery of their house annoys my dad to no end, thinking about the non-pretentious home I grew up in and the lovely wacky people who reside(d) in it is making me feel very good right now. Yay.

Joining the Swimsuit Brigade - Tag, You're It

Liz at Everyday Goddess suggested that I create a tag with which people can mark their posts for the SwimsuitBrigade
Liz is brilliant.

So, my tag is Swimsuit Brigade. If you tag your post with this, it will (hopefully) show up on technorati and other sites that read and organize blog posts by tags. (I say hopefully because technorati does not always work for me.)

Happy 31st Birthday, Husband!

While neither of our days started out spectacularly (he woke up with a severe sinus headache; I discovered that half the places I planned to visit today for the book are closed on Tuesdays, although at least I figured that out before I got there), I am looking forward to participating in the low key birthday celebration Husband requested. We shall go to the gym, eat at home, and then watch the last two erpisodes from this past season of CSI.

While I hope that Husband enjoys his birthday, I also must thank his parents for raising such a great son. When my mother-in-law gave birth 31 years ago, she was sure she was having a girl.

"You have a boy!" the doctor announced when her baby fully emerged.

"It's not mine," Mother-in-Law infamously replied.

"He has red hair," the doctor told her.

"OK, I'll take him," she said.

Since then, both my in-laws have been fantastic parents. In a world where children are often raised according to strict gender stereotypes, Husband (and his brother) turned into amazing and wonderful human beings who fully embrace equality in relationships and life. So on the occasion of Husband's birthday, I owe major thanks to his parents for producing the love of my life. As a result of them, today is a happier day for many people.

Brilliance: $2.99 (plus tax)

Addictions come in many forms, and mine is eggs. I eat several eggs a week, alternating the real deal for EggBeaters every few times so that my cholesterol doesn't shoot through the roof. Allow me a Forrest Gump moment here. I like eggs over easy, poached, scrambled, omelets, sunny side up, fried, hard boiled, and soft boiled. Actually, I don't even know the difference between fried and sunny side up, but they both taste good.

My problem, then, is actually cooking eggs. Yes, I realize that eggs are about the easiest things to cook in the entire world (except for maybe asparagus, which I made last night on our George Foreman Grill with olive oil, salt, and pepper), but I hate cooking. I don't care how "easy" it is, somehow I always make a mess and I despise cleaning.

A few weeks ago, I was in Bed, Bath, and Beyond (we now have everything except Target and Ikea in Manhattan, I swear) and I saw the answer to prayers that I didn't know I had: Oh, yeah! I just crack my little eggies in the container, nuke 'em, and voila! - delicious, perfectly formed eggs that fit right into an English muffin with very little mess. Even I can handle washing a piece of plastic.

Whoever invented this, you are my hero.

Suzanne and Husband as Simpsons 'Toons

The Happy Couple

(Thanks to Suebob for the idea.)

Gratitude

While I may not be the best writer in the world, I really love it and I hope that someday I might be able to eke out some sort of living from it. However, I’m very insecure about the whole thing. It upsets me that I depend entirely on Husband to support me, and that while he commutes to Connecticut (and around the world) to work hard, I’m ditty bopping around home or wherever earning nothing. Granted, he loves his job and wants me to do something that I enjoy as well, so he’s fine with the situation for now. Most other people understand that I am lucky to be in a situation where I can take time off and try to start over. No one seems to think that I am a leech mooching off of Husband except for me, yet I worry about incessantly. (Obsessive worrying is one of my talents.)

Logically, I know that Husband’s Parents do not think that I am coasting on their son’s coattails, but I can’t stop myself from (no longer) secretly harboring concern that they frown upon my mostly unemployed status. Especially my father-in-law (FIL), who is an engineer and already thinks that I am a lunatic, but in a nice way. So I was super touched when I received an email from Mother-in-Law at the end of April that said:

Thought you'd be interested in the following. I was telling [FIL] that my director's husband had just won a Pulitzer prize, and that was probably as close as I was ever going to get to a winner of this award. [FIL] said, that that was true, until Suzanne won one. He didn't say" if Suzanne wins, but rather, "when Suzanne wins." See, you have many fans and people rooting for you.

Reading that leaves me speechless for so many reasons. No one leaves me speechless!

Thanks, FIL, for your faith in me. I am so lucky to be part of your family in so many ways. Now ignore me while I get all choked up and sentimental in the corner… There’s nothing to see here.

Sex v. Baby-Making

I am so loving the stories people are telling in response to my inquiry about how they learned how babies are made. However, one thought these comments aroused (heh heh) in my little head is the difference between learning about how babies are made/where babies come from and about sex in general. After I learned how babies were made, I don't think that I thought about people having sex just to have sex because it felt good. Then again, my Barbies were getting it on with Ken, so I must have had some concept of the many purposes of sex. On the other hand, I was clueless enough to ask my mom how babies were made, so perhaps this is just another sign that I was not the most perceptive lass out there. Hmmm…

By the way, Forever rocked the house, as did Then Again, Maybe I Won't and to a lesser extent, Are You There God?.... (Not to mention the brilliant comedy that emanates from Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and SuperFudge, although they had nothing to do with the traumas of puberty. I still laugh out loud just thinking about scenes from those books.) Long live Judy Blume!

What a Distinction!

I received this email a few days ago from my friend Alex. Her Younger Son (YS) is my official godkid, but I think of her Older Son (OS) as my godkid, too. (OS, as many of your know from Alex's hilarious blog, is 3.5 and YS is 9 months.)

Hi Suzanne,
I just wanted to let you know how highly OS thinks of you. Yesterday
when I was changing YS's diaper, OS pointed out that YS had an
anus. Then he proceeded to list people he knows that have anuses.
Guess who was one of the first people on his list? How are things going?
Love,
Alex

This just cracks me up for so many reasons. I am so damn proud of this kid. I also happen to love the seamless transition from being told that OS said I have an anus (not that I am an anus, thankfully) to asking how I am. I am proud, dammit! Proud!

On another note, Florida is delightful. I arrived yesterday afternoon to find warmth and sunshine. While Husband was at his conference reception, I wandered out of the fancy resort (it's about 1/2 mile walk to get the hell out of here) and as I was leaving, I asked the security guard if he could recommend a place to eat. He said I should try the Cuban place down the road. It was bueno. I particularly loved my mamey (no, I have no idea what that is) batido (shake) and dulce de leche sandwhich cookie, which in Argentina is called alfejore, but the woman stared at me like I was wild-eyed from crack when I called it that. On the way back, I found a 7 Eleven and bought Cheerios and yogurt for breakfast. Upon further exploration, I found a ginormous Winn-Dixie grocery store that I will get lunch at. The security guard and I chatted it up when I came back. Turns out he's originally from Brooklyn.

Oh, yeah, I got some writing done, too.

Flattery Will Get You Everywhere

Many thanks to Karrie at One Weird Mother for her kind nomination of CUSS for a Bligziter award at the Blogger's Choice Awards!!! I feel like someone finally asked me to the prom. Swoon, swoon, swoon.

Now, if you will be so kind as to click on this link and vote for my sorry ass, I promise not to go all "Carrie" on people and cause major calamities and carnage. Of coure, that is also assuming that you don't drop a bucket of blood on me.