Jezebel: The Gawker Group does fashion -- and it's FABULOUS

So at first blush, it seems like Jezebel (Celebrity, Sex, Fashion Without Airbrushing) is pretty cool. It manages to educate about fashion and what makes that powerful world go 'round, and yet provide some insights about body image in popular culture, etc. I'm already a fan of other Gawker media sites: Deadspin, as you know, as well as Defamer and, increasingly, Consumerist. (But not, ironically, Gawker -- too New Yorky).

How you feel about the Jezebel site may depend on how you feel about pictures like this magazine cover, featuring Beth Ditto of The Gossip (in a "you go, girl, own that body!!!" context, not an "oh MY GOD I can't believe that fat girl is naked" context). I admit, I was a little shocked. But mostly worried about how the world will react to her (glad she seems to have a "screw ya if you can't dig this" vibe, and I hope she really feels that way).

There are words, too. Like this post: Pimp My Vadge -- A Woman's Opinion

Sometime around the year 2002 plastic surgery started getting ridiculous. As if there wasn't enough pressure on women to look like hairless, hipless eunuchs with breasts, we started seeing advertisements in the back of our favorite magazines touting a new procedure called "vaginoplasty". Often, these ads touted something called "labiaplasty" in their copy as well -- and it didn't take master Sudoku skills to figure out what that meant. For the second installment of our "Pimp My Vadge" series, we sent our friend Slut Machine (link NSFW) undercover to get a different opinion -- a woman's, that is -- about about the relative "merits" of her vagina. Click play to hear the audio from her visit, then read her reactions after the jump.
Last week, when I got a labiaplasty consultation, I had a man doctor look at my lady parts. While he told me that my vadge didn't look "that bad" (thanks?) my labia majora could still be improved upon. He recommended vaginal lip lipo, saying that it was unlikely I would ever lose the labia fat through diet and exercise because I'm not "grossly overweight" (This guy really knows how to give a girl a compliment.)
For my second opinion, I made an appointment with a woman doctor. I'd been tipped off that this doc had hired a PR firm to handle the cosmetic surgery portion of her practice. The reasons behind why a gynecologist would need to publicize such procedures seemed questionable to me. But I couldn't help but think that since this gyno was a woman, she couldn't possibly be on board for making money by allowing women to feel inadequate and self-conscious about yet another part of their bodies.
I have to say that I really liked this doctor right off the bat, which I hadn't been expecting. In her billowing, multi-layered, long black skirt, she reminded me of Stevie Nicks, and that sort of organic, mystical grace comforted me much more than the typical, cold, clinical experience of being examined.
For this visit, instead of making up some bogus excuse as to why I was displeased with my very normal labia, I decided to just let Dr. Blank, Medicine Woman take a look a my crotch and tell me what she thought of it.
I placed my feet in the stirrups. With my lips parted, I kept my mouth shut and let her go to work. To my pleasant surprise, she was way honest with me about how there wasn't much she could do, and she also informed me of some very crucial info that the dude doctor failed to relay, regarding damaging the nerves of my clit (aka my livelihood!), should I go through with any surgery to my labia majora.
You know, I thought that first doctor's idea of lip lipo sounded sort of insane. I watch Discovery Health Channel. Lipo is a violent procedure. I imagine it would ransack your property downtown. I feel for any girl who would be misguided enough to go down that route. I mean, I really feel for her. Just thinking about that shit gives me phantom pains.


Earlier: Pimp My Vadge

We're Beginning To Look A Lot Like Barbie

Ichiro's mental powers (OK, there IS something interesting about baseball!)

Leave it to Deadspin to have the best spin on Ichiro's latest unusual comments. The rice-ball eatin', super-flexible, sometimes inscrutable Mariners superstar said that when he was close to losing a ball in the sun, he tried to use his mind to solve the problem:

"The ball became the same color as the sky,'' he said, through interpreter Ken Barron. "So, I wasn't able to see it ... I was sending mental signals for the ball not to come my way, because during that time of day it's impossible for me to see the ball so I lacked mental signals. I lacked in that area.'

"Usually, I don't send mental signals," Ichiro replied. "So, because this is the first time, I thought, please don't come my way."

You can read more, with funny commentary, here.

Happy (well-deserved) retirement, Susan!

My friend and former P-I colleague Susan Phinney is wrapping up her newspaper career today and launching a whirlwind tour of the world that will take her to Europe, Montana and, maybe, Belize.

Susan is the person who taught me how to say Ralph Lauren (rhymes with "whorin'"), and tried to teach me about fashion. I was not made for fashion (I'm tall enough but would need to lose 75 pounds to be the right size), but I would argue that I have my own fabulous sense of style: Sort of preppy-silly (polo shirts, Levis, khakis, and Justice League of America/Mr. Rogers/Seattle Storm Ts).

Anyway, here is Susan, reacting to an adorable card made by Cheryl and featuring my boys (can't go wrong when featuring the boys).

And this is just a picture of one of my former colleagues, the legendary Grant Haller. I think of him as a big, hippie bear. He also resembles the fisherman in the picture behind him, so that makes him even more classic Seattle.

I find this new flavor of spam unsettling

Flush 20 Excess Pounds out of your Colon
From: Colon Cleanse Support

TIRED OF DIETING?

FLUSH UP TO 20 POUNDS FROM YOUR COLON WHILE ELIMINATING CANCER-CAUSING TOXINS!!!!

Wow, they make it sound so appealing.

Meeting Sanjaya

I pretty much quit American Idol in the middle of Season 2. Hard to say why ... I think I just felt like once was enough. Plus, Kelly Clarkson (and Justin Big-Hair) were hard to top.

But of course I know who Sanjaya is. And good for him for making things interesting this year. So I understand why my niece and her family were psyched to meet him over the weekend. And I'll share my mean joke: "So he was working at Starbucks?"

He's not working at Starbucks. I'm not sure what he's doing, but this weekend, he made my relatives happy. That's Gavin on the right and Lindsey on the left. Apparently their mother, Stacey, danced with Sanjaya while he sang a song. Go Stacey!

Digging the family garden

The space formerly occupied by blackberries (our side yard) is now a garden ... enclosed by bricks, and full of six yards of dirt.

Six yards of dirt doesn't sound like much, I'll be honest. Then it got delivered. In a big ol' dump truck. And we started digging and digging and digging and moving the dirt. And the pile didn't seem any smaller. We worked until we were dog tired on Saturday, then did some shopping yesterday (and saw Shrek 3).

Today we finished the job. Cheryl did most of the dirt-moving, and I did most of the brick-laying, which means I got the better end of the deal. Cheryl and I were laughing about how I asked her to "take a break" from dirt hauling to bring me a wheelbarrow full of dirt. I'm glad we could laugh about it.

Next task(s): Build the swinging chair we bought today with our 10 percent off coupon at Lowe's. Then stain the fence with the stain and the sprayer we also bought with our 10 percent off deal. Man, we bought ourselves a lot of work.

Pictures with Jeff Gordon (sort of)

My boy Eddie can now pick Jeff Gordon's car out of a crowd on the track. And he was thrilled to get his picture taken with him (though a little unclear on the concept, as you can see by the way he posed).

Rosie's done with the View ... and so am I

Rosie had another three weeks on her contract, but after an unfortunate blowup with the callow Elizabeth Hasselbeck (who turned out to be more of a friend to ideologues than to the fellow mom across the table), she decided to go. It just makes me so sad. For a while there, I thought the show would go down in history as a tribute to the kinds of meaningful discussions where people who care about each other disagree but don't become divided.

It's interesting that this happened at the same time as my split from my church. More sadness. More divides. Maybe that has made me particularly sensitive to the Rosie situation. Maybe it's the family argument that ensued when I actually shared my views (about the war, gay rights, etc.) with my brother's in-laws, etc., who griped about Rosie without any understanding of the reality that Rosie and I are not so different. Or maybe it's just the fact that I take things that happen to chunky, smartass, pop-culture obsessed, dark-haired lesbian moms personally.

MSNBC is doing a vote about Rosie and the View. Go here: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/18868495/ and do what your heart tells you.

Organic Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese? Really?

Now, I'm all for organic. And I've loved Kraft Mac 'n' Cheese since before there were microwave ovens. But this -- available on Amazon.com, with a lovely bonus deal from Kraft -- seems excessive.

(Although I'd like to know what the organic source for the nuclear-orange color of the cheese is.)

Rosie Vs. Elizabeth .... worse and worse

It's getting harder and harder to watch the view as Rosie O'Donnell's time on the show winds down. It just increasingly makes me sad ....

Today, apparently, the ideological differences hit a new flashpoint and it clearly went beyond politics. I think Rosie is genuinely wounded that Elizabeth is a fan of the very shows (FOX News and others) that twist her words.

I think it's not unlike the way I feel about the fact that my Dad (and brother) are both Republicans even though Republicans are anti-gay. It's difficult for me to get my mind around the fact that they can consider my wife and my sons their relatives and yet support politicians who work against families like mine.

Interesting political disagreements are one thing. But to see Rosie attacked for raising valid questions (Why did WTC Building 7 fall even though a plane didn't hit it? What makes a terrorist, and is it possible that we seem like terrorists to Iraqis?) grows tiresome.

I love it when the big, white boats come in

Some people don't like cruises. They find them confining or unhip or whatever. I am not one of those people. In fact, when I see a cruise ship (a frequent occurence in Seattle during the summer), I smile. Saw this one the other day while on my way to drop my car off for brake service. And even though I knew I'd end up spending hundreds of dollars, I was still happy.

(I'm taking a cruise this summer -- a Rosie cruise that departs in ... wow, less than 8 weeks!!!)

I am almost too tired to type

So we spent the weekend helping my niece Delsa and her husband Neil move out of the space that formerly held their business, Max Gymnastics. Yup, the biz didn't make it, but considering that the stress of running it pretty much gave Delsa a heart attack, it's probably for the best that they decided to close it.

I really don't have much right to complain, since the heart attack survivor worked her tail off not just today and yesterday, but for many, many days leading up to this weekend. And her husband and mother in law also worked much, much more than me. Well, they are tougher than me. And I am going to complain. My feet are KILLING me, and my arms and legs don't want to move. I did a lot of broom-pushing (more tiring than you think) and some lifting of boxes, gymnastic equipment and such.

Delsa told Cheryl she's never seen her work so hard. I know it's been a while since I worked that hard. I have a sense of accomplishment, which is nice. But I'm too tired to really revel in it. I swear, I could fall asleep while writing thi --

Is 4 too young for an MP3 player?

I have mixed feelings about giving my boys a present that will allow them to tune us out .....

But these are sure cute. And less than $40 each. They're "Shakers" made by Sansa, the company that's second only to Apple in terms of MP3 players. Kids can control the songs they're listening to by shaking the devices or by turning a knob. Shaking is cooler, of course. There are also two headphone jacks and a speaker for sharing (though the whole point of things like this seems to be not sharing, I thought).

Anyway, I'm tempted. But it doesn't take much, when it comes to getting something for my boys.

http://accessories.us.dell.com/sna/productdetail.aspx?c=us&l=en&s=dhs&cs=19&sku=A0984537

I finally met my friend's baby! (And he's adorable)

This is Nathaniel. He's a funny kid: Seems very much to be assessing the world, and not entirely pleased with what he sees. Smiled at me, though. :)

Wait -- a hoops star AND an A student?

It's Seattle Storm season, and while I don't have time to be as obsessed with the team as I have been in the past, I have enough lingering obsessiveness to start reading up on the gals and the WNBA.

And I came across this nugget about Storm star Lauren Jackson, from Jayda Evans at the Seattle Times. (Yes, I'm usually a P-I loyalist, but not when it comes to Storm coverage. Sorry.)

Jackson did some number-crunching during last summer's injury-riddled season. She used her research to write a 40-page strategic planning paper about KeyArena that helped her complete work on an business management degree she earned in December in her native Australia.

Jackson researched forums, Web sites, financial paperwork and news articles, devising the same three options people in the area have read the past year — splitting the Sonics and Storm, moving both teams, or building a new arena.

"I hope we keep the Storm here and play at KeyArena because we didn't lose that much money as a franchise. In the last couple of years anyway," said Jackson of her research, which earned her an A on the paper. "[Seattle] is pretty much where I spend a majority of my time now. I spend more time here than I do in Australia. It's kind of like home and I've definitely kept an eye on the situation. Hopefully it will turn out for the best for us."

The Storm plays its season opener Saturday -- and while the team's future in Seattle may not be assured, here's something else to be happy about as long as the time is here: LJ is healthy and happy and ready to win. I was worried when I read that she played in Korea AND Russia in the off-season, considering that her shins were stress-fractured and misery-causing. But apparently playing in Korea and Russia made her feel better and not worse. Here's a report from the Storm's official site:

"It's not fun when you're always dragging around some sort of injury, and for years I was," offers Jackson. "Now for me it's a lot more fun being out there knowing that I'll be able to walk after the game or I'll be able to practice tomorrow or, if I do something bad, I'll be able to work on it. It's really been a bonus for me."
Jackson is somewhat at a loss to explain the difference in her health. There has been talk of orthotics that have helped relieve the pressure on her feet and shins, and Jackson thinks it may have to do with playing through the off-season or her body maturing. For the most part, she is not interested in wondering why.
"Everything has just ... I don't know ... fallen into place," she says, quickly adding, "It's about bloody time."

My left hand had a very bad day (and it wasn't so great for the rest of me)

I'll start with the happy ending: My hand is still attached. My heart is still beating. I didn't suffer any nerve damage and I don't think the scar with be bad. Oh, yeah: And we have a new dishwasher installed.

It all started Saturday morning, when my brother-in-law Larry and I began what we thought would be a fairly simple task: Installing a new dishwasher. We had actually installed a dishwasher in the same spot not long ago, when I had to remove then reinstall our old dishwasher while replacing the flooring. It wasn't hard.

This time, though, we had to deal with slightly different hose outputs and inputs ... and the jerry-rigged nature of our setup created some, well, complications. We ended up replacing copper tubing with threaded-metal hose. And while getting the latter into place, I brushed up against a live wire (I thought I switched off the right part of the electrical panel, but ... not so much). This was an unusual experience. It hurt, for sure, but once I saw that my hand was intact, I was intrigued.

Cheryl was the one who noticed that the shock scared away my blood. But soon my pale hand re-pinked and the shock became a funny story.

Then it came time for me to open the packaging of some additional threaded-metal hose. Didn't see any scissors, so I did it with a sharp, new steak knife. And the knife cut through the packaging, then plunged into the flesh between my thumb and forefinger. I knew immediately that something bad had happened. I went into the bathroom, washed away the blood, and I knew that it was ugly. People get grossed out when I say this, but the wound looked like a puppet mouth, and big enough to hold a nickel. I could see the layers of my skin, deep into my hand.

Amazingly, there was no nerve damage and very little bleeding. Really, if you're going to plunge a knife into your hand, this is the way to do it. In fact, there was so little bleeding that I thought I could get away without a trip to the ER. You know, that costs real money!

But Cheryl talked me into it, with help from the consulting nurse that I dialed up on the ride over. Cheryl says the nurse probably thought we were drunk with all the laughing going on. But it was kinda ridiculous.

I'll cut to the chase: We went to a doc in the box in south Federal Way and got excellent -- well, fast -- service from people who seemed as amused by us at the absurdity of the situation. We were in and out in something like 20 minutes, and though the doctor seemed unaware of how to use the dermabond pen. I could have gotten a stitch, but instead I got steri-strips coated in superglue.

And a good story to tell.

P.S. Larry finished the dishwasher installation.

Phrases you never want to hear ....

"Uh ... where'd I put the superglue?"

Speaking of superglue, just wait'll you read what happened to my left hand this weekend (in the next post).

The freeway was like a parking lot, so yes, I used my computer.

And I am not ashamed!!! (Though I'm glad there wasn't a cop around.)

I can say that I knew award-winning restaurant critic Rebekah Denn back when ....

If you haven't heard of the James Beard awards, just trust me when I tell you that they're a freakin' big deal. And my friend (and former colleague) won one this weekend:

P-I restaurant critic Denn wins Beard award
P-I STAFF

Seattle P-I restaurant critic Rebekah Denn on Sunday won a 2007 James Beard Foundation award.

Denn, a P-I critic for the past 18 months, won the award for "Newspaper or Magazine Restaurant Review or Critique."

"I'm so honored I just can't believe it," Denn said.

The award ceremony was at the Hudson Theatre in New York City.

The James Beard Foundation is a not-for-profit organization dedicated to celebrating America's culinary heritage.

This is the 20th anniversary of the James Beard Foundation awards.

Before becoming the P-I's restaurant critic Denn, was an award-winning Metro desk reporter, most recently having worked as the newspaper's education writer.

This is the kind of mother I have dreamed of being ...

Ignore the negative comments. Those people don't appreciate the sublime joy of a mommy talkin' all gangsta.

My niece had a heart attack. She is not even 40.

So the good news is that it's possible to have a heart attack that's like a cramp, with no apparent permanent damage. The bad news is ... well, she could have another one, and it is possible to die from them. But the good news is that she has changed her life and taken a job that's less stressful.

Cheryl's dad died of a heart attack. He didn't realize he was having it (thought he pulled a muscle), and by the time he realized that it wasn't a pulled muscle, too much damage had been done. Thankfully, Delsa knew something was wrong and when a doctor thought he was doing her a favor offered not to do some tests (to save money, 'cause he mistakenly thought she didn't have insurance) she insisted that he do the tests. And she had taken some aspirin. And she lives to tell the tale.