"no sex" and what it means

When doctors recommend "no sex" (as with certain pregnancy complications, detailed in an earlier post), they always mean the same thing that the mainstream culture means when they say "sex": what some of us queers tend to call "penis in vagina sex" (PinV or PnV for short). It's just a base heteronormative assumption, one that's extraordinarily common and one that, say, obstetricians are particularly prone not to question because, hey, that's how most of their patients became their patients in the first place, if you see what I mean.

It always reminds me of the subject line of one of the advice posts at the site I work for: "fisting after sex?" I actually yelled at the screen "Fisting *is* sex, dammit!" in frustration.

Oh yeah, I'm reading tomorrow!

Come see me! Because you really, really want to know what I wrote for Fucking Daphne. I know you do. Also, Kissing Dead Girls is going to kick ass. Two great tastes that taste great together -- tomorrow!

Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Joint Release Reading for Kissing Dead Girls and Fucking Daphne

with:
Charlie Anders
Marlo Gayle
T.R. Moss
Gabe Scelta
Lori Selke
Susan Steinberg

City Lights
261 Columbus Ave., SF
7:00 p.m.
Free!

odd questions and inappropriate answers

There are two comments/questions that I get a lot on my pregnancy these days, My responses, I have noticed, tend to unsettle the questioner. Too bad! I am afraid I am just that kind of inappropriate person.

The first: "Do twins run in your family?"

My response: "No, they don't." I guess if I stopped here, everything would be OK. But I can hear the question behind the question, so I often add, "we were on a course of fertility drugs and hit the jackpot." Or some variation thereof. If I really want to make someone uncomfortable, I joke that we're going to make the kids' middle names "Clomid" and watch them squirm and blush. Folks are clearly unsettled by frank talk about fertility issues. And yet, why else would they ask? Maybe I'm just not supposed to guess at the hidden agenda that quickly...

The second: "Isn't it nice to get it all out of the way first?" (i.e. have all the kids you were going to have all at once instead of serially.)

My response: "Yes, except that we were only planning on one." Well, it's the truth! But apparently it's shocking to say out loud. It's not that I'm unhappy to be having twins -- far from it, I'm excited, and even more so, I am aware that the universe likes to joke around and throw people curveballs and there's only so far you can plan your life out anyway. I'm totally on board this ride. But apparently admitting this isn't the ride I thought I'd signed up for is a bit taboo. As I said, too bad!