[catch me at the border I got visas in my name]

while perusing a friends bookshelf today, I came across a bestseller with the tagline “the curious coupling of science and sex.” Intrigued, I started to skim the first few pages and learned during porcupine sex, the male stands on his hind legs with an erect penis, and then proceeds to walk towards the female as if to say “look what we have here…” I immediately absconded with the book, which is called “bonk” (just in case you were curious..) Some interesting things I have learned: In the Victorian days, it was incredibly improper for a male doctor to look at a woman’s vagina while doing any sort of procedure, so…they..didn’t. They practiced quite a bit on cadaver’s (whose vaginas they were able to look at) (umm..twisted much?) And then just had to blindly feel around. nothing delights me quite as much as stumbling upon anything Danish. Fortunately for me, chapter four was all about how Danes like to imitate an actual male pig while doing AI on females at large breeding farms. I had no idea that there are pig vibrators available for use, which come from the Netherlands. (of course they originated in Holland). They do this because the rate of conception is 6% higher in the she-pigs that have been…excited (ew.yes, that it actually a job. to rub pig vulvas so that their uterine contractions will bring the sperm up inside) some other interesting research proposed in the book: “Van de Velde (some weird researcher) claims that a ‘slight seminal odor’ can be detected on a woman’s breath within an hour after intercourse, and that effect can be rather arousing for a man.” saucy. fuck breath mints. women going to bars should have semen breath if they reaaaaally want to attract guys. I love that there is a homeless dog that trots around all the different cruisin coffee stands in bellingham to get dog bones. I found this out tonight while talking to my friend that works at a stand across town, that encounters the same scraggly (but very demanding) husky that visits me at night for a treat.

anyway. after a night of listening to dan savage talk about how women come into their prime during their thirties, and reading about how women are more fertile when they reach orgasm, I have concluded that women are biologically determined to be cougars.

i really wish i had a catholic friend to debate with..

I don’t know which initiates my gag reflux faster: the sound of mccain’s voice or lindsey graham. ugh. or better yet in combination since they seem to be bff forverrrrrr

love that obama actually acknowledges that Iran is its OWN country, not just another place that needs the guiding hand of the discerning US to figure its shit out. hopefully this will be another ‘79 that ends in mass women’s rights. (ha..)

something gnarly I came upon today:

what are you going to do about sex discrimination?
FDR: “oh, sex discrimination? I guess that we will have to insist that boys can be playboy bunnies.”

some jackass who is a regular at my coffeestand today said “at least you still have a nice body” when he saw my face today.
at least I don’t have to cum into my hand every night. fuck head.

nyc, nyc, nyc

$266 later, I’m all booked for nine days in new york city!

its going to be really fucking busy, which will suit NY perfectly.  Between spending three full days completely engaged in a business competition, re-uniting with long lost friends from CPH, and wandering around the city checking out law schools and different sites, I probably will get about five hours of sleep the whole time.

I’m researching and making a list of all the different law schools to visit while I’m in NY, and need to go to the cheaper places in town to check out where I will be living should I ever end up coming back to America for a grad degree after I live abroad for a few years. (which is highly unlikely, although the allure of a fast-paced city and getting a grad degree where I will spend my time arguing, reading, drinking mass amounts of coffee and being a bartender to attempt and pay my bills sounds like a delicious way to spend my mid-late twenties..)

I can’t decide if I should schedule hostels in one spot or all over the city for the days when I’ll be walking around exploring..carrying all of my business attire everywhere doesn’t sound super appealing..

fuck next year is going to be crazy..making sure I graduate with a 3.5.board of ydub, attempting to liasion.volunteer coordinator for BAP.work.bars.LSAT, before I take the fuck off.

musings on why capitalism causes ignorance:

I’m currently deeply ensconced in Betty Friedan’s memoir, and I came upon something rather troubling while reading earlier tonight. Early in her writing career, she composed prose for a large number of magazines, mostly catered towards the xx’s of the world. What bothered me was that she was not able to write about many of the things she wanted to, or had to revise much of it, because the women couldn’t “identify” with the issues presented. Immediately I though FUCK THAT what the editors really should have said was that the women were not socialized to be interested in the issues, and would not have the chance to if the magazines geared toward their demographic never gave them the chance. The magazine editors presumed that in order to make a profit they had to concoct their fifties era bullshit articles about how to be the perfect little wifey into the same stream every time, otherwise their readership wouldn’t understand it and therefore would not buy the magazine anymore.

but as the old saying goes, what came first- the chicken or the egg? If people are not exposed to certain topics, how could they ever possibly have an interest in the complexities and ramifications of it?

sweeping this out on a more global scale, think of the amazing things that could be done using the argument of socialization by modeling (that is, forming this sort of culture simply by media actors such as the women’s daily digest or whatever the fuck it is/was called). What if, slowly, slllooowly, the women that appear in playboy and other men’s magazines started gaining weight and acquiescing to more realistic body proportions? Obviously it would work, the proof is in how newly westernized cultures have had such a sharp spike in eating disorders.

so when we do venture to dissent, is it still within the realm of what we have been unknowingly socialized to think? if so, then formal education really doesn’t lead to critical thinking, but to a more open assessment of all possibilities within a particular pre-ordained realm of thought.
which I have to think is fueled in some part by greed, as we are controlled by our melting pot of capitalist vultures.
gross. and thank god for amy goodman and the fact that I was born in 1988, not a child of the depression like Friedan. although I really have no idea if I would have been happy or not being a nesting 50s wife, if I had been socialized that way…
ugh.
what the fuck is free thought, anyway? I guess the pessimist and optimist in me will have to keep mulling over that…

my superego and id are battling each other over Dr. Tiller’s fam’s decision, but I’m not even sure which is on which side.

socialized american thought tells me that it is my superego which says “don’t be a bitch and judge them, their fucking dad/father was just murdered”

but…my evil feminist id (I guess thats the part where the socialized through american views comes in..ha) says WHAT THE FUCK do they realize what the fuck they are doing? They are killing the heart and soul of what Dr. Tiller worked and believed in! They are letting the crazy evangelists win! the crimes against abortion providers and clinics have been so much more violent since their fucking patron saint went on a rampage. We must stand strong if abortion is to remain available (forget legality…it would almost be better if it wasn’t legal if this escalates, because at least providers would be cloaked in the safety of secrecy)

all I can think about is traveling somewhere new again.

I just want to be on a train rolling through foreign hills, listening to my iPod, reading something palatable and full of american dissent, writing endlessly on various pieces of paper which I store away in backpack to remember the moments that are much too fleeting.

i’ve found myself spending a ton of time with my family and really trying to make the most of my last 30 credits which fetter me here.  although with the incredible sunsets and sunrises (evidence of my complete lack of a circadian rhythm), i have nothing to complain about.  bellingham is incredible, but oh.my.god. my stircrazzziness is building.

Rep Hechler = my new hero. little sad that Obama won’t fuck the coal industry’s world.

rest in peace Dr. Tiller.

isn’t it incredibly hypocritical to kill someone in the name of life?

although my two best friends and I lost our passports, wallets, keys and camera last night it was definitely one of the best times I have ever had.

it started out at 4 o’clock when Katt and Megan ran into my room. I wasn’t aware we were leaving this early, and was definitely not dressed and ready. I hurriedly grabbed my water bottle of wine, threw some clothes into a bag and jumped into Meg’s truck. we picked a hotel downtown, got ready and went out for dinner at a fabulous fancy restaurant in the heart of granville island.

for some reason, we were having a really tough time getting drunk and didn’t actually start feeling buzzed until around 11. at 12, I realized that I had a bladder infection and started to stress out. I couldn’t decide if I should go back to the hotel room and try to sleep, or just get wasted and dance. I decided to just go back to the room, much to the dismay of katt and meg. Fortunately, as soon as we stepped out into the street and past a few clubs I realized that horrible pain or not, I WOULD be dancing goddamnit. Soon after, Katt completely biffed it and fell on her face in te middle of the street much to the amusement of several groups of people. As I started to perk up, I decided it would be fun to share my problem with the men that were hitting on us. As we walked down the street and they shouted “hey ladies where you headed” blah blah usual bullshit I screamed out “I have a BLADDER INFECTION”…which I will probably continue to use as it is a very effective cock block. We ended up stopping at a corner bar and coercing a man outside into dancing for us, which was really not very sexy at all. Ten minutes later, we were drinking beer through a straw out of large wine glasses (?) and dancing merrily around the bar. Suddenly, the most beautiful man I have ever seen (beer goggles, but I think he actually was rather attractive) passed by me. Stunned, I set down my drink (as I was quite serious), grabbed his arm, looked into his eyes and said clearly and audibly “You are literally the most beautiful man I have ever seen.” I didn’t realize at the time that my beer goggles are rather near sighted, and that a woman happened to be territorially attached to his arm. I received an ice cold death glare from her, said “whhooops! my bad” and went back to dancing with my friends.

A few minutes later, he returned without the woman and started dancing with me. It turned into a ridiculous little dance party with some other guy creeping up on megan, as we rocked out to weird canadian music. At about this time, Katt wandered over and exclaimed “my purse has been stolen!’

fuck. fuck fuck EVERYthing was put into that purse…all of our passports, wallets, cash, everything.

I started to freak out, and beautiful man grabbed my arm and took me outside. “I am in the Canadian army! I know abut border patrols” at which point he debriefed me on how exactly I would get back into America. “You should probably come stay at my house tonight so that I can get you to the border tomorrow”

…but…my hotel was right across the street..I pointed it out, and it took awhile but Meg and I finally convinced him (after talking to the concierge) that we were in fact staying there and would be fine. Meanwhile, Katt was storming angrily around looking for her purse, cursing humanity, and talking with undercover cops. As I was passing out, she got up again to storm outside and find it. Five minutes later, she appeared back in the room very angry. “what are you doing?” I drunkenly asked. “I NEED MY FUCKING SHOES!” and she was off again.

Needless to say, the purse was not retrieved.

the next day, getting over the border was much easier than we thought it would be. Katt and I walked up while Meg was waiting in line, and had the amusing experience of running into a staunchly republican guard who told us “thats what happens” in canada, and hoped that “we learned our lesson.” brazen as usual, Katt immediately responded by saying “Oh, you mean don’t go to bars anymore?”

getting over the border was as easy as telling the guards our middle names. national security? ha.

we were playing a random CD from one of my roommates on the way back, and all the songs had been ac/dc style american stuff until about two minutes after we crossed when “ariba arrrriba” came on. perfect.

mm canada.