Happy Spring? I’m not sure. I can’t tell. There seem to be flowers sprouting everywhere, but somehow I also feel like I am hibernating and only want to eat hot soups and chunky stews.
Compounding my desire to continue hibernating: two completely distinct herpes related headlines in the SAME DAMN NEWS CYCLE.
Exhibit Number One: Halle Berry Details Herpes Scare That Was Actually Perimenopause in Conversation with First Lady Jill Biden
There are so many previously unrelated names and concepts in this headline. Halle Berry. Herpes. Perimenopause. Jill Biden. And here they are, combining forces to illustrate a story that is so painfully relatable to most women, and yet so completely absurd.
Halle Berry went to her doctor to discuss pain after sex and he told her that she had the worst case of herpes he had ever seen, but oops actually it was just regular ole perimenopausal vaginal dryness.
A medical doctor cared so little about a woman’s body, actively chose ignorance, that he misdiagnosed her with such sweeping authority. Are we sure that this person went to medical school? Can we be confident that this person wasn’t just DJT’s old parrot head doctor?
Folks, we are so tired.
It reminds me that once I went to the dermatologist to see about a cold sore that had erupted on my lip after the birth of my first child. The doctor took one look at me and joyfully exclaimed “Looks like someone blew the whole rugby team!” Let me just say that it’s…difficult to…trust a doctor with, let’s say, your skin cancer screenings after something like that, so we soon parted ways.
This is like that. Not to be outdone…
Exhibit Number Two: Pigeon herpes.
I, quite simply, cannot.
I realize that Flaco’s death happened a while back, but the results of this necropsy have me in full tilt from the pigeon herpes and whatnot.
For those unaware of the Flaco story, he was an Eurasian eagle-owl who escaped his enclosure at the Central Park Zoo, and made his home in the park, and later on the Upper West Side. Toward the end of his life, he made his way up to my slice of the neighborhood, and we could hear him hooting loudly in the evening, and living his best owl life.
This is not him, but these ARE owl legs, and I need you to see them right this minute.
I love to learn about diseases that I never knew existed. Look, anyone who has ever taken their children to a charming egg collecting sesh at some bucolic educational farm knows that birds are riddled with diseases we cannot comprehend. Everyone is smiling and super cool about it until you try to leave, and the farm curators are like “tee hee hee, did everyone wash their hands??”
If you waver for one second, they are like “I AM FUCKING SERIOUS, DID YOU SCRUB THEM WITH SOAP. YOU SHALL NOT CROSS THIS THRESHOLD UNTIL I HAVE PERSONALLY WITNESSED YOU SCRUB THE PESTILENCE OFF YOURS AND YOUR CHILDREN’S HANDS.”
My mom kept chickens, and now that I think of it, we were dangerously loosey goosey about our own after care. I shudder to think of all the chicken gonorrhea I could have rubbed into my eye over the years.
I have been away for a while, so I have a few CHOICE episodes of Choice Words to direct your attention to.
One, Busy Philipps. What a delight. I always love catching up with her and I’ll be forever grateful for her breaking us out of an escape room. I would still be there if it weren’t for her. Seriously. She has a new late-night show premiering in May on QVC+ and yes, that does mean you can shop while you watch her. I can’t wait to watch and shop.
And another episode featuring the women of BABES, a film directed by Pamela Adlon, and starring Ilana Glazer and Michelle Buteau. We recorded this four way conversation live at SXSW and it was so much fun.
Folks, here is why I have been so distracted and absent from your inboxes.
I spent the last few weeks caring for my father’s puppy while he was away on an adventure. I would say, conservatively, that caring for the dog took 130% of my life’s energy and personal essence. We are…cat people. And by that I mean, we love cats, but perhaps more so than that, we ARE cats. Dogs are great, but also they are slobber, and raw naked need, and big slobbery emotions. This is fine.
I allowed her to sleep on me like the hot top of a seventy five pound panini press, and we became one.
I emerged drained, sallow skinned and unkempt, but victorious.
This is her.
She is completely untrained, but very sweet.
She mostly looks like this.
But inside she is more like this.
Our sojourn together reminded me that dogs and humans benefit from something called “training.” Like, I love her love, but I don’t relish the threat of a seventy five pound tank engine barreling toward me with a desire to jump on me that is palpable from 100 yards away.
And so, I located a trainer who I thought might be a good fit and folks let me tell you something. I met Him. Dog Jesus.
To which he replied “oh hello hi, I’m Dirk”*
Anyhoo, he’s great, and would die of embarrassment if he ever read this, which he won’t, because, well, I don’t know why. And if he does, then honestly he should put this whole thing on his CV because I simply cannot give him enough compliments.
Unrelated: I have been threatening my family with the promise that I will one day foster an unloved jungle bird.
This is because I am #unemployed now, so I have time for deep Reddit dives on parrot care.
Try as I might, my focus - on exotic bird training as a new career option - kept getting pulled to men. And no, not because yesterday was opening day for a sports season, but because this week (only the last four days) has brought a deluge of reports of men being extra shitty. And mostly toward women. Don’t they know it’s our month? Some of my news notifications:
James Carville thinks democratic women are “too preachy” and WE will be the ones to lose Biden’s re-election. Love that for us.
New York Magazine published a feature on popular neuroscientist/podcaster Andrew Huberman, which detailed his Mambo No. 5 level of juggling girlfriends, his spread of medical misinformation, and misogynist gems like “Multiple women recall him saying he preferred the kind of relationship in which the woman was monogamous and the man was not.” He has millions of devoted fans. Cool cool.
In New York City, women are randomly being punched. It is apparently so common that social media is branding it “PunchTok”. I.hate.all.of.this.
Two of P.Diddy’s mansions were raided over multiple allegations, including sex trafficking. ANOTHER example of a rich man treating the most vulnerable as a commodity. UGH.
And finally, of course, SCOTUS. The court heard arguments about possibly regulating the abortion pill (mifepristone), which could lead to dire accessibility issues.
It’s only Friday.
Which brings me to an event that I was already excited for, but even more fervent about after typing the above list: Planned Parenthood’s Annual Luncheon. I’m honored to be a part of this important event as well as host an in-person conversation with Cecily Strong! Yes, THE Cecily Strong. The best part of this fundraising event is that it’s a hybrid of in-person AND virtual, so if you are interested click here for more information.
Let’s see what April brings?
Xoxo
Sam
*his name is not Dirk.
I love owl legs - you think they are all those feathers with little tiny legs, and then you find out that their legs are as long as their bodies - sometimes longer. They are fascinating.
A pox on the doctor.
While I am a cat person, I would have liked a detailed description of your journey with the dog and the trainer. Cats, well, you know...