Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays!

I am in the south, rocking my NY/southern wardrobe remix of sequins, flannel, leggings, and cowboy boots. I am slowly starting to unwind as I hear the sweet sound of "y'all" and watch as strangers wave "hello" for no reason.

I have some holiday gift suggestions if you received some duds under the tree:

The book "Unbroken" by Laura Hillenbrand. This book is a page turning story of amazing resilience and proof to the theory "mind over matter". I read it in 2 days!

Any drapey sweater from Brandy & Melville. This new store is an instant cult favorite, located across from Balthazar on Spring Street. I stocked up on many soft knits to wear over the holiday break, including a modal cotton No.5 tee with fringe!

The Hampton Popcorn Company Cookies & Cream popcorn!! Holy shit this stuff is AMAZING! I bought bags for everyone in my family at Laguardia Airport. It could be the best thing I have ever eaten. Think Cracker Jack popcorn covered in Oreo cookie frosting with bits of the cookie in ever bite!

Also, Saks is having 70% for the next 2 days and Barneys has further markdowns. I just bought Fallon bangles I have been eyeing.

*Aries*

Nightmare Before Christmas

It was just hours before I was set to fly south for the holidays. I had an exhausting day to top off and exhausting six months and could barely move by midnight. The person I had been seeing for the past few months (also discussed in my blog entry "Poker Face") begged to come over to see me off. He came over and tip toed into my room. Just like many nights before we laughed and shared passionate kisses. He wanted more, but I stressed that sex was not even up for negotiation. He would give up and hold me, only to circle back to sex. Suddenly, he was on top of me with one hand digging under the muscles in my abdomen. I couldn't catch my breathe to speak from the shock of the pain. He was inches from my face aggressively saying "Say it!, Say it!"
I still was breathless under his jabbing fingers and tried to inflict pain on him by stabbing my finger into the sensitive flesh above his armpit. He continued pushing further into my abs saying "Say it! Say you want sex"!
I finally managed to take a deep breathe and said "Stop!, Get off of me!".
This only provoked him to become more aggressive.
"No! That hurts! Stop!" I said in a breathy panic
I was desperately wiggling to break his grip on my stomach. His weight was becoming a crushing force along with the intense pain. I watched his lips continue to make demands when all went quiet in my head. I realized the situation was now out of hand. I no longer recognized this man as a lover, but as a dangerous stranger. I wanted to punch him in the face, but something held me back. I moved with the extra force of "fight or flight" and was able to free his grip. I pushed him and moved away. He quickly reacted and dragged me back beneath him. I moved again, this time bringing my legs up to my chest. He started to lung for me and I kicked him in the chest and back away until I was standing on my bed. I jumped off and said something along the lines of "I can't believe you just did that to me, knowing all that I have been through."
He looked at me with a shit grin and motioned for me to sit back on the bed.
"You think this is funny? Get OUT of my apartment". I demanded
He looked directly into my eyes and said "No".
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT, NOW, or I am calling the police!"
At that, I grabbed my blackberry and walked down the hall to my front door. By the time he decided to walk out of my room I already had the front door open.
"Are you serious?" He said
"Yes, get the fuck out." I replied
He extended his arm towards me....
"Don't you dare touch me! Get out, NOW!"
He threw his hands up and walked out.

The worst part of all of this is that I didn't break down crying in disbelief. Instead I walked back to my room, set my alarm clock for 3 hours, and went to bed. I woke up just as numb to it. Somewhere along my path I have become desensitized to men being abusive in my life. When I landed I had a text from another Ex (also featured in the blog) who is facing domestic violence charges with his ex-fiance. He is trying to bring me in the middle of his bad judgement and told me, via text, that he gave my information to his lawyers to validate his "he said she said" stories?! REALLY....I don't think so! What a jerk! I am sure the stress is just being suppressed somewhere in my mind, as I can feel the irritation and sadness rippling through my body.

I am lucky that I left New York a few hours after it happened so that I will really be able to reflect in peace while being surrounded by family (although it is a secret to them). I know behavior like this is no longer acceptable in my life. My New Year's resolution will be to ONLY go for the nice guy from this point on. Enough is enough.

*Aries*

Happy Holidays

... from the torture chamber

Fabulous news today from a mentor: Getting into a psych program is harder than getting into medical school right now. Everyone is applying. There's a 2% acceptance rate.

Happy freaking holidays. I'm going to start drinking now.

*scorpio*

Parfait

Tom Ford gets it so, so right. Every time.Now if only I didn't have breasts...

*scorpio*
Image from W Magazine

Response to Naomi Wolf, Social Media

Reader Kemiii brought up a great question on my last post about rape culture. She wanted to know my thoughts regarding Naomi Wolf's public statements about the Julian Assange rape case.

I grew up on Naomi Wolf's The Beauty Myth, and I saw her speak just last month at the More Magazine women's forum "Where are the Young Feminists?" at 92Y. I have always respected her insight and looked to her as a feminist model. However, her rape-positive, blame-the-victim comments regarding this case are unforgiveable.

Look, I kind of see where she is coming from. Obviously rape happens everywhere all the time and doesn't ever get the kind of attention this case does. But that doesn't mean that once a case does get press, we critique it. What women, feminists, politicians, and public figures say about rape is phenomonally important. The public statements we make shape the social consciousness of our country. When we see cases like Kobe Bryant or Duke University - cases in which the woman accuser(s) were publically humiliated, sent death threats, and deemed to be sluts or 'asking for it' we quite literally take three steps backwards. Everyone is in our country is familiar with these cases; when we deny these women a voice, we teach every woman that rape doesn't exist. We tell them, no one will believe you. We say, keep your mouth shut. We imply, it's her fault.

Why do you think rape is the most underreported crime in the country? It's our own damn fault for not speaking out in the media. Rape is rape is rape. It is never, ever okay.

Naomi Wolf has failed me.

But we, as women, can change things, even on a micro level. Change the dialogue. Believe your friends if they've been through rape/sex assault. Understand what a massive, damaging crime it is. Be aware of your own prejudices, then change them. When your friends/family are speaking about the case, give it the weight it properly deserves.

Think critically about the narrative - is it contributing to a rape culture? Say something.

*scorpio*

Educate Yourself:
Fantasic article article about the effects of the media on rape cases.

Feministing has a great response to Naomi.

Closure, at last

The night I left him, the world froze. Biting white flakes whirled aggressively to the ground, forcing erasure. A new begining. A demand to forget.


I met him in the sunshine, I left him in the snow. My tracks have been covered.

I'll never go back.


*scorpio*

Hey, Ms. Jones!

During my daily cursory perusal of NY Mag (love their irreverence), I found this shocking article. Heidi Jones, a weatherwoman, claimed attempted rape in order to mitigate and garner sympathy for a current personal hardship.

My first reaction was that this report will be used as proof to those that believe women often create or embellish stories of rape. Statistically speaking, however, this couldn't be further from the truth. Rape is THE most underreported crime in America.

How then to explain this woman? Simple. Rape, like any other crime, has a small percentage of falsified reports (about 5%). This is actually the exact same rate as any other crime like grand theft auto (thank you, Charlie Sheen), abduction or murder.

However, because rape has such gendered societal concepts of what constitutes acceptable behavior, it becomes quite the hot-button issue. I wrote my honors thesis on Pornography and Sexual Violence, but no matter how enligtened the men I date are, none of them is ever able to have even an abstract conversation about pornography and sexual violence without almost immediately becoming defensive. Listen, rape (though simply defined) has become a complicated thing. We say it's about sex, but it's really about violence. We say it's not a big deal, but according to the DA I used to work for, rape is worse than murder because you have to live through it. And, 98% of the time, rape is committed by males. You can understand how they'd become defensive.

No one wants to admit that we live in a type of culture where the female's body is less important than the male's, that her needs are somehow negotiable whereas his are justifiable. However, in my research, I've found that 47% of high school boys think it's at least 'maybe okay' to force sexual intercourse on a female in certain situations. The situation most cited? If she 'turns him on'. the underlying message is that she should've known better.

When we hear a story like the above it maps perfectly on our social consiousness. Though unspoken in polite society, rape culture perpetuates the myth that the onus is on women. No wonder we discount the true reports as false, and the false reports as proof.

The actual truth: that 1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in their lives (that number reaches 1 in 2 during the first three months of college, known as the Red Zone) is too difficult to give credence to, because if it really is so prevalent, then how many men have sexually violated a woman?

More than we can admit.

*scorpio*

Bye-bye baby blonde...

After being platinum for as long as I can remember (and practically colorless for three years) I decided it was time for a change. My usual routine of four hours in the chair accompanied with scalp burning and a hefty price tag had worn out it's welcome. Plus, since my hair was getting longer I was veering away from Kate Lamphear territory and more into Christina Aguilara. Yikes.

I went to my favorite colorist at my favorite salon - kind of a second home for me as it's the only thing thats stayed consistent in my four years in the city. Armed with images of my color concept, I settled in for a long day.

First, she put in an all- over color, concetrating on the top of my head. She only did a few minutes on my ends, to give it that natural ombre coloring. After the wash, she told me "not to freak out". Never comforting.



TOTALLY darker than I wanted, but I have a long history with my colorist and I trusted that she wouldn't dissapoint me.

I was right. She then started to lightly tease my hair, applying highlights to only the strands that remained in her fingers. This is by far the most effective, subtle and natural looking highlights I have ever seen. (Also, the most painful, and time consuming). She added lighter pieces around my forehead and then sent me to the sink, again.

This time she applied a toner to bring out the honey and neutralize some of the darker notes. After an amazing blowdry by her assistant, I came out looking like this:

Right?!?

As a testament to how good she is, almost NO one has noticed a difference. While it is a huge change for me, everyone says it looks so natural. I knew I was in the right hands.

(Unfortch, those hands cost me SIX hours in the chair and a bit more to the wallet) Going forward, however, I'm back in the land of half-highlights. Hello, savings!

*scorpio*

My first call with SAVI

I woke up every hour on the hour under massive anxiety that I would miss a trauma call. Thirty minutes before my shift was going to end I received a call....sexual assault, victim was brought in by the police. With little details to go on, I raced into SAVI mode, trying to follow all protocol.

I was in the ER with a survivor of rape & sexual assault from 7:55am until 2pm. She was badly beaten and in a state of shock. I cannot give any details out of respect and confidentiality. I gave her my all and watched as her strength, hope, and confidence returned. It was almost like watching someone die and come back to life. I know she has a long road ahead of her and can only hope SAVI will be a healing tool for her.

She will always be someone I think about in this truly profound volunteer opportunity.

*Aries*

Walking the Walk

My friend D invited me to a whiskey tasting after work. I've always been a big fan of scotch, preferring Islay single-malts to any blended... but this tasting may have changed my mind.



After signing in, we were each given these place cards with shots of different Johnny Walker over their corresponding labels. We started with Black, which is the second-least expensive and actually quite good. I prefer mine neat, but it was cool to see how the flavors changed once you added a drop of water. Essentially, the smokey flavoring dissipates and you're left with the smoother carmel notes. (In my world, the smokey-er the better!).

Then we went on to Red, which was entirely too sweet for me, kind of more like a desert drink. This is the lowest priced label.

Gold was served in a frosted glass. It was again, quite sweet, though it is the second-most expensive, I found it a bit cloying.

Finally, we moved onto the premium: Blue label. Just gorgeous.

(Pricing structure from lowest - highest: Red, Black, Green, Gold, Blue).

I'm still sticking with my Ardbeg, but it was great to have options in case it's not stocked. Plus, it never hurts to learn a little more about my favorite type of alcohol.

They are continuing these events in Soho- so go to the website and sign up. It's free!

*scorpio*

Aspen

I love the bumps!


My instructor leading me to my death - the mountain drops off after that point, hello double-black!


I'm stealth


My friend is that tiny dot on the mountain. My fave run, love those moguls!

No one does apres like Aspen


all good things...


*scorpio*

Losing My Religion

This good Catholic girl lost her virginity to one of God’s chosen people. It was the ides of March just before my graduation from high school. I had met my boyfriend the previous summer at a Princeton University summer program. He was fiercely brilliant, a gifted poet, with trenchant political views. I found him intoxicating. I’d never met anyone like him in my cookie cutter, culturally devoid town.

We’d talk on the phone till daybreak, we’d send each other letters, we’d visit back & forth. I remember bouncing around the house after hearing from him. I thought I was in love. And being the good Catholic girl that I used to be, I wanted to wait to have sex until I was at least 18 and in love. (Our family was more modern than most – my mom actually told me she didn’t expect me to wait until marriage, and that sex was fun, with the right person). So, one night, after Shabbat dinner with his family, we went down to his bedroom and had a glass of wine. He told me that having sex on the Shabbat was a mitzvah. We undressed. We were about to lose our virginity to each other. Completely nervous, I wanted this moment to be suffused with meaning after waiting so long. He slid on top of me.

After a few moments of his squirming, I said, “Are you in yet?”

His reply, “Yes”

“Oh.”

I couldn’t feel a thing. I just looked up at the ceiling and waited for him to stop sweating and pulsing above me. I was so confused, I remember thinking – this is what I have been waiting for?


The next week, he called me at home.

“I slept with my best friend last night” he said. “I think I might be gay. I always kind of wondered, but I wanted to sleep with you just to see if it was true.”

My 18 year romantic buildup was his litmus test.




I wasn't so good after that.

*scorpio*