The indie rom-com “The Pill” is about the day after a one-night stand that the man fears will result in a pregnancy; hilarity and the pursuit of emergency contraception ensue.
It’s a little bit of “Run Lola Run” meets “Knocked Up,” but without the dialogue that you’d picture a Katherine Heigl character saying. And it brings up a few really important questions about responsibility and a fertilized ovum. Check out the clip below, which shows us the, well, WRONG way to go about contraception usage during a one-night stand (spoiler alert: not using any!). Read more …
In this Craitgslist ad, a woman offered to trade her three-month-old weave for a prescription for birth control. A fair exchange? Hmmm. I guess it depends on how many months supply of the Pill she would be getting. But don’t forget about the complimentary bottle of hair conditioner. That’s worth something. I wonder if there were any takers. Also, has it really come to this? I guess it has. [WOW]
The Kansas state legislature advanced a so-called “conscience” bill yesterday that will make it easier for health care providers to refuse to provide women’s health services that they personally find morally objectionable. According to the Kansas City Star, a doctor could refuse to give chemotherapy to a pregnant woman with cancer because the fetus might be harmed by the chemicals; a pharmacist could refuse to dispense the morning after pill, the abortion pill, and possibly even birth control. Anti-abortion folks in the medical profession claim they should not have to go against their conscience even if it means providing the medical services for which their customers depend on them. But women’s health supporters say it’s all part of a larger attempt to restrict women’s reproductive rights. Keep reading »
I was born out of wedlock in Minnesota, to a white mother and an Afghan (not the blanket, the country) father. It was considered pretty scandalous for my mom to be a single mother with a brown baby back in 1979 in Minnesota.
My mother had been with my father off and on for nearly seven years before I came along. Just before my conception, Mom had “escaped” down to South Carolina to stay with her sister after my father informed her that he was already in an arranged marriage with his 15-year-old cousin, who would be arriving soon from Afghanistan. My father’s family had arranged the marriage before relocating to the Unites States; apparently, they felt the need to bring tradition — the child bride tradition—along with them.
You can’t blame my father for wanting my mom for the time that he did, though, as his intended wife was a nine-year-old in Kabul when he met my mom at a Twin Cities bar in 1973, coincidentally the year Roe v. Wade was decided. Still, just before his teen wife was to arrive, my father drove all the way from Minnesota to South Carolina to conceive me in the back seat of his Camaro. Keep reading »