I got this in the mail yesterday:
Apparently, the AARP thinks that I am over 50 and it is a great tragedy that I haven’t joined their ranks yet. Last time I was at Dad’s house, I teased him for having the AARP magazine on the kitchen counter.
I almost called them to correct the error. I mean, they’re 22 years off, at least. But I figured that they probably just got me mixed up with one of the other million people with my same name.
Today’s History Lesson: Contraceptives (and talking about them) were considered “obscene” and were illegal until the early 20th century. The woman who pioneered the birth control revolution (as in, she coined the phrase, advocated for contraceptives, and formed the organization we now know as Planned Parenthood) was a fugitive living in London because she chose to teach women they had the right to tell their husbands they didn’t want to have sex with them. Imagine that. We get to choose? I had no idea! I am so glad that [most] of the world has come a long ways since then. And I am very thankful that not only is it legal for me to be on the Pill, but that my health insurance covers it (I remember in my teens when it did not). I realize that I’m only on it for medical reasons, but it is nice to know that in case I did something incredibly stupid or, heaven forbid, were raped, that I most likely wouldn’t have to worry about being pregnant. Well, not that I would have to anyways. But that’s beside the point. Contraceptives are a wonderful thing. So is the phrase “no means no.” That is the end of today’s feminist rant.