rabbit blog

Thursday, September 29, 2005


Hi Rabbit.

You know you are a great writer and you make a lot of really good points about having no shame to say what you really want and not putting up with half-assed boyfriends and all BUT . . . .

I am a 45 year old single woman who has been, let's say, "unsuccessful" in finding an appropriate mate. I have gone through 15 years of different therapies, found and lost religion, grappled with all my issues regarding my body, my own commitment phobia, my fear of abandonment, my "bad choices" regarding men, my tendency to want what doesn't want me, etc. etc. etc. Now I still have a long way to go, but just to let you know how a woman of my age and position sees things, I thought I would write my first impression of the conversation between you, the girl with the porn-interested boyfriend and the guy who says basically "get a life."

You know Rabbit, some people are good at marriage and finding mates and some are not. But from what I've observed and what I've read, in most successful relationships between men and women, the woman has a certain "Yeah, well fuck you -- fine go ahead and leave" attitude. Even women who are very needy and have thin boundaries and need lots of romance, attention and care seem to have some inner confidence to clearly and sincerely believe "Yeah, well fuck you -- then go ahead and leave." Marriages that are thirty, forty (or in my parents case 52) years old, the ones that seem the most stable are the ones where the woman has that inner "fuck you leave" thing going on.

It's a little trick of the mind and it's kind of hard to describe. It's not disinterest, it's not "not caring," it's not arrogance or manipulation. It's a wordless but clear communication that a woman knows in her heart of hearts that she will be just fine if she loses her man. That life will go on and she will be OK. The flip-side is a sometimes silent (sometimes not) message "I will die without you." For some reason men find that very, very disturbing or they look at it as an opportunity to dump all their shit on a woman, but they like the fuck you, then leave thing. Maybe it goes back to Mommy or something.

But regardless, I think until a woman truly believes in her heart of hearts that she will be just fine without husband A or boyfriend B, she is doomed. And on the flipside if she does the fuck you thing, suddenly lack of commitment, or porn addiction, or drinking too much, or football or inconsideration or all the other million things we as women put up with from our men, doesn't have the same sting, or it makes you able to express your feelings about such behavior much easier.

Unfortunately, some women seem to be built this way and some women less so. The ones that are built this way, get married and generally stay married. The ones who are not (myself included) flail around A LOT. But specifics on what a boyfriend or husband is or is not doing really is meaningless if a woman can't get that "Well fuck you then . . " down. Me personally, I'm trying to find it, but letting it be OK if I don't. It's like being a blonde or being born into a wealthy family, it's kind of a luck of the draw thing in some ways. And I think more than anything it's important to be OK with who you are.


Dear A.,

First of all, let me just say that I truly admire your ability to make casual yet sweeping generalizations about the sexes. I'm a strong proponent of sweeping generalizations and feel that only good can come out of making overly broad statements about a wide range of human beings. OK, sure, sometimes it leads to xenophobia and war and bloodshed... Jesus, must we split hairs today? I'm jet lagged and I don't have the energy for it.

Anyway, in addition to admiring the boldness and simplicity of your theory, I completely and wholeheartedly agree with it. You've reduced that certain je ne sais quoi of women who don't love too much down to its essence: The Inner Fuck You Leave. TIFYL, let's call it for the sake of space and ease - besides, it's a good enough theory that it deserves its own acronymn.

I can tell you from experience, though, that just as it's possible to amass great wealth even when you're born poor, or to bleach your hair even when you're born mousy, it's possible to acquire TIFYL. I used to be the kind of woman who felt like the world would end if the relationship I was in ended. I don't know where this little tic came from, but it always felt slightly out of sync with the rest of my personality. Sure, I'm as insecure and self-doubting and neurotic as anyone, but I'm also armed with a great deal of bluster and deep admiration for my own specialness. Never did I actually believe that I would die without the man du jour, but for some fucking stupid reason, I always argued vehemently against breaking up. Armed with guilt-inducing lectures on the Importance of Commitment and on My Incomparable Specialness As A Woman And Life Partner, I would bore the ever-living shit out of my mates any time their enthusiasm toward a future together seemed less bubbly and effervescent than I felt it should be.

I know. Boring and sad. But it's taxing being a woman sometimes, particularly if you tend to track down men who haven't been seriously involved before. You invariably end up running your own little Relationship Boot Camp, during which the guy learns all the requisite maneuvers and creative ways to blow smoke up your ass. After two years, he graduates and gets to go out with someone a little bit nicer albeit slightly less entertainingly harsh than you, and usually his career takes off, too - that part I can't explain.

But I digress, this isn't about them, it's about us and why The Inner Fuck You Leave is so fucking important. So, after many, many years of playing Sarge to a steady stream of hapless Relationship Boot Camp enlistees, I graduated my last proud soldier and then closed up shop and stopped recruiting. Yes, I stopped recruiting - you remember recruiting, right? Where you try to act like Relationship Boot Camp isn't Boot Camp at all - why no! It's an adventure! It's sexy and exciting and full of aimless chatter and fondling and tasty late-night snacks! But I decided I didn't want to teach anything, didn't want to give lectures, didn't want to talk, ever again, about my specialness. You can either see it or you can't, and it's not my job to highlight it in any way or to point cute things out or even charm you or giggle when you say something fucking stupid. When some confused potential enlistee would wander up and inquire about the fall course schedule, instead of speaking in husky tones of adventure and salty snacks, I would mumble something like, "You wouldn't like me, I'm very bossy and overly sensitive and controlling and critical and even though I might seem a little bit charming and fun right now, I'm neither fun nor charming in the long haul, and I'll only make you hate yourself."

This worked well. No one enlisted, or even offered to buy me a drink, for several months, freeing me up to do more important things, like eat cheese and talk to human beings who might actually be capable of understanding me completely, see also: women. Occasionally, some dogged buck would respond to my "I'm bossy and controlling and tiresome," with something like, "So you're no different than most women, in other words." and this would make me smile, because men who recognize that all women are trouble are so much easier to deal with, and also because such men don't take it personally when I explain to them how child-like and sad men can seem sometimes (since it's not personal, all men are the same that way, I know from years of research in the field) and also because I love anyone who understands and appreciates a well-timed sweeping generalization.

Yes, I'm rambling a little, but that's well within my rights since this is my fucking blog and I can do whatever the fuck I want to with it. The point is, something about this Total Refusal To Recruit really went well - not only did I not attract the usual swath of guys looking for a low-maintenance good-time girl (that's about 80% of the single male population, for all you naive bunny rabbits out there), but I got to speak freely about personality flaws like neediness and bossiness that either disappear when you speak freely about them, or they don't really seem quite as bad as they're cracked up to be when they do rear their ugly heads, and anyway you can't claim that you weren't forewarned. It was really great, too, how the guys who I suspected were sort of self-involved and not all that accepting of the general ways of women would show their stripes when I would honestly lay out my bad traits. They figured it was a manipulation of some kind. or that I was crazy and might just fuck them anyway. When guys think you're insane, but they still want to sleep with you? Well, let's just say it's really funny and not all that attractive and pretty much takes them out of the running for their bad judgment alone.

But the most important thing about admitting my flaws was that it changed me into a woman who had The Inner Fuck You Leave. And when I met the lovely masochist who embraced the whole nasty package I so ruthlessly described, it was somehow perfectly easy to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my life would be really full and interesting and good whether he was with me or not. With TIFYL, you're not operating in the shadow of fear all the time.

You know, I really have to add something to this, because it's not that simple. I think that buying a house and getting a dog with a really nice personality contributed to my attaining TIFYL. I think that women really feel fucked in their late 20s and early 30s partially because they think that they can't have any of the things they want - stability, companionship, a nice home - without finding a man first. I say fuck that shit, go for the things you want now. Sure, you can worry about the guy along the way - I know you will - but you have to go for a life that looks good to you without waiting for someone's help or approval to get it. And, when you go for that life, I really think that whether you're with someone or not, you maintain a solid notion of what you want for yourself, separately. Knowing what you want for yourself is invaluable, but it tends to be the first thing you pawn when you're trying to form a WE.

So, A, fuck all the psychology. Can you just wear all your shit on your sleeve, as you did in your letter, and see what happens? I don't think it's about trying to be OK with never finding love. I think it's about saying: I want love and I'll fucking find it, and I'll also have a great time right now and I won't fucking compromise a bit of myself or hide anything just to recruit someone who's not right for me." Why should anyone settle for not finding love, if love is what they really want? It sucks to walk around saying "I'm OK with it" just to be strong, and I think that as long as it's not entirely, completely true that you're OK with it, then you're as good as lying about yourself.

Love comes to those who are willing to make themselves vulnerable, and nothing makes you more vulnerable than the truth. Honesty and vulnerability are beautiful, they're the stuff of art, and they also bring with them good sex and giggling and late-night snacks. Plus, when you embrace them for yourself, acknowledge your smallness in the world, accept the unfair judgments of others and accept the sensation of being repeatedly misunderstood, when you stop hiding, stop being ashamed of yourself, let the world spin the way it wants to, give your love and attention to friends and strangers who really need and want it, then somehow The Inner Fuck You Leave is yours. Voila, the world is your oyster, and your life is one big delicious Oyster Po Boy, with hot fries and really good cole slaw on the side.

Time for lunch,


2:35 PM


Hi there,

I came across your web concerning a minor part of me:

"There's a cinematographer with the name Poon Hang Sang. Do his friends call him The Poon Tangler? Poon Tang Hang?"

My Friend always address me as Mr Poon.

And on sets when I introduce myself to people, I would say" My name is Poon Hang Sang, you may call me "Poon"..."

Hope the above will answer your question.

All the Best,


Dear Poon,

Thank you for the clarification!



9:17 AM

Wednesday, September 21, 2005


Decided not to write much about "Rock Star" after all - I'll have to wait and watch the TiVoed train wreck with my own eyes when I get back. More here tomorrow, honkies!

10:28 AM

Jamón ibérico!

6:56 AM


Hola from Espana, honkies! I've been traveling through Spain for the past two weeks, hence the notable lack of posts at this crucial juncture in American history and in Rabbit Blog Honky Challenge history. Many honkies have been challenged to give and give generously, and now that I have a little time with a normal keyboard and a solid internet connection, I'll update the totals.

But first, I have to ask a very important question: Did anyone see the finale of "Rock Star: INXS"? I missed it, and I was planning to try to avoid finding out who won, planning to watch a solid three or four hours of goofy rock covers the day I return to LA, but then a reader of my column wrote to me and told me my worst fears were realized: J.D. Fortune The Skeazy took the prize! As much as it makes sense that J.D. would be the perfect mediocre lead to a perfectly mediocre "supergroup," I'm just wondering if anyone could offer a merciless and slightly detailed play by play of the proceedings for inclusion in next Monday's I Like To Watch. Anyone? Don't be shy, these are trying times and your voice will go far towards effecting change, here and abroad.

6:09 AM

Monday, September 05, 2005


Hurray! The Rabbit Blog Honky Challenge met its seemingly unrealistic goal of raising $10,000 for Hurricane Katrina victims on Monday night when, just as the numbers were teetering close to $10k, two massive gifts came in and changed the totals to a whopping $17,490! (more than that - see the post below this one for an updated total)

Pretty amazing, huh? Honkies everywhere were shocked at the generosity of honkies across the land, who tend to be far too self-involved and irritable and prone to allergic reactions for fund-raising events. But the honkies took the (rather arbitrary) Honky Challenge seriously, and now friends of the rabbit blog - the ones who donated money, that is - can feel proud that all of the time and energy they waste perusing this idiotic site finally amounted to something.

Thanks for joining together to do this, honkies. It's really been amazing how many of you were inspired to take action. In the interest of making an ongoing commitment to New Orleans and its residents, 20 percent of profits from rabbit blog T-shirts and childess whore T-shirts will go to the American Red Cross and to other Hurricane Katrina charities through the end of 2006.

Now let's try to make it up to $20,000, OK? Hurray for honkies!

10:32 PM

Friday, September 02, 2005


Recognizing that this is one of the most heartbreaking, disturbing moments in U.S. history, the rabbit blog seeks to unite honkies and non-honkies alike in a wave of generosity to suffering New Orleanians. Together, the Rabbit Blog Honky Challenge aims to raise $10,000 in disaster aid for victims of Hurricane Katrina. I know that sounds alarmingly high, but we have to set our sights high around here, motherfuckers. We've been settling for less for too long, and look at us now.

Come on, honkies. Give until it hurts. If it doesn't hurt, you didn't give enough. I know it doesn't feel possible, but you can do it. Donate $100 or $50 to the Red Cross or the aid organization of your choice, and send me a note saying you did. Donate more if you can possibly stand it. Let's prove, in our sad little pathetic honky way, that we have a little compassion, and that we recognize how fucked this country is right now, but we refuse to shrug it off, or to imagine that the problem is somehow caused by those suffering people in the streets of New Orleans.

I challenge you to give, honkies! Give the price of a few movie tickets and an extra large popcorn. Give a week's worth of triple non-fat lattes. Give half of your power bill, and pay the other half next month. Let's show the world that not all honkies are dumb and heartless like our president.

Current Honky Challenge Total = $18,040 [9/7/05 6:53 pm]
For more details on those who've risen to the Honky Challenge,
go HERE.

If you donate to the Red Cross through the Peet's Coffee website, Peet's will match your donation up to $25,000, and they're at $18k now (9/5/05). More places to donate are here and here.

For those in Los Angeles, Jar restaurant is donating 10 percent of all revenue to the Red Cross through Monday 9/5. The fried oysters are deeeelicious.

7:25 AM

"They don't have a clue what's going on down there. They flew down here one time two days after the doggone event was over with TV cameras, AP reporters, all kind of goddamn - excuse my French everybody in America, but I am pissed." -- Mayor Ray Nagin, 9/1/05

7:20 AM


Hey honkies! Gosh, it's nice to be safe and dry and well-hydrated, isn't it? Today is a good day to be lily fucking white, that's all I gotta say. But even if we were a little hot and hungry and maybe, I don't know, dying, it's tough to see the U.S. government ignoring us, isn't it? Middle class white folks, thousands of us, suffering, waiting for someone to just give us a lift out of hell? Does that sound familiar to you? If it did, would we be referred to as "refugees" do you think? And since when does sniper fire justify the total removal of aid? Aren't there troops in Iraq withstanding sniper fire day in and day out, to keep the peace, to hand out aid, to make sure that freedom is always on the march?

You know, when our fine president was elected last fall, I had to tell myself, over and over: "Come on, things will be bad, the environment will be fucked, the war will last indefinitely, you'll have to turn off the TV every time that imbecile comes on, but it's not like the country will fall to pieces. It's not like chaos will descend upon the land. It's not like Americans will be able to stomach the war once the casualties reach the thousands. It's not like the basic humanity of our leaders is completely, 100% in question. I mean, they are human, right? They have some compassion, they have a plan, right?"

Honky madness! And when you hear black folks raging against the government, talking about violent uprisings and such, and all you can think about is what nutjobs they are, and does this mean all your fucking appliances might be carried away, what is that? How fucking blind are we, honkies? These people are the only ones who can see clearly how royally fucked this country has become. The front page of my paper has a sea of upset, suffering black faces, and the fear-mongering, compassionless captions say "rage builds" and "seething crowds" and "chaos" and "gunfire" and "refugees."

Refu-fucking-gees? How about Americans, motherfuckers? How about New Orleanians? Was there a special debased name for the businessmen emerging from the World Trade Center, shocked and covered in dust? New Yorkers, that's what we called them. And now the National Guard is scanning for snipers? How about driving some big fucking buses into town, and getting those people the fuck out of there? Remember that movie, "Saving Private Ryan," where a bunch of soldiers busted ass through enemy territory to save one little white boy's ass? Remember? "Gunfire was heard, so the buses left"? Are you shitting me?

Send those poor people some fucking help, and don't forget, this country is filled with really good people. It's important not to forget that at times like these. Yes, some of them were dumb enough to vote for the soulless moron in charge, but a lot of them are good people. And when the dust rises, and we look back on the absolute worst, least capable, most compassionless, reckless, cringe-inducing, murderous president in U.S. history, we can remember that we didn't lose faith in the people themselves. Don't let your fear and loathing of rednecks change your mind, there are lots of really good bumpkins out there. Don't let the talk of looting and gunfire change your mind, those are good people, and they're freaking the fuck out for a very, very good reason. You don't know shit about how it feels, and be glad you don't, honkies.

Honestly, fuck these Moveon.org brunches. People should be marching in the fucking streets over this. It's an absolute travesty, and when you look at the big picture, with kids dying in Iraq and corpses floating in the streets of New Orleans, it's just heartbreaking and it's enraging and it's sickening. Don't forget how bad this feels, because you - we - need to stand up for ourselves and get this country back.

6:44 AM

all contents © the rabbit blog 2001-2016

Site Meter

Powered by Blogger



columnist for new york magazine & bookforum, author of disaster preparedness, co-creator of filler for the late, great suck.com

my stuff
my author page
ask polly - ny mag
ny times magazine
the new yorker
the awl

good stuff I wrote
little, green, different
mother of dragons
how to contact the author
the doctor is in
how to write
tech's bubble boys
dance, damn it
stop blaming jaws
pop starships were meant to fly
crazy women
the fun parts
one ring to rule them all
home alone
apocalypse now
aaron sorkin branches out
long distance runaround
50 shades of mad
dallas, new & old
twirling girls
abe the vampire slayer
the mommy trap
pa shoots bear!
sopranos vs. the shield
lost in the rat maze
zombies vs. vampires
suffering parents
the dimbulbs of entourage
the divorce delusion
friday night lights vs. glee
game of thrones needs light
president trump
your highness
feel your anger!
nuclear experts weigh in
super-sized ambition
healing powers of the apocalypse
oscars & extreme ambition
beware personal branding disorders
lady (oh!) gaga
"hoarders" cured my hoarding
real brand managers of nyc
climates of intolerance
in dog we trust
faster, pregnant lady!
mothering heights
gen x apology
recessionary bending
expecting the worst
an excellent filler
more filler

paris review
the rumpus interview
emusic interview
nice nytimes review
newer laist interview
laist interview
la weekly interview
ojr interview
barrelhouse interview

some random old stuff
hen & bunny
childless whore


write to rabbit, damn it!

october 2001
november 2001
december 2001
january 2002
february 2002
march 2002
april 2002
may 2002
june 2002
july 2002
august 2002
september 2002
october 2002
november 2002
december 2002
january 2003
february 2003
march 2003
april 2003
may 2003
june 2003
july 2003
august 2003
september 2003
october 2003
november 2003
december 2003
january 2004
february 2004
march 2004
april 2004
may 2004
june 2004
july 2004
august 2004
september 2004
october 2004
november 2004
december 2004
january 2005
february 2005
march 2005
april 2005
may 2005
june 2005
july 2005
august 2005
september 2005
october 2005
november 2005
december 2005
january 2006
february 2006
march 2006
april 2006
may 2006
june 2006
july 2006
august 2006
september 2006
october 2006
november 2006
december 2006
january 2007
february 2007
march 2007
april 2007
may 2007
june 2007
july 2007
august 2007
september 2007
october 2007
november 2007
december 2007
january 2008
february 2008
march 2008
april 2008
may 2008
june 2008
july 2008
august 2008
september 2008
october 2008
november 2008
december 2008
january 2009
february 2009
march 2009
april 2009
may 2009
june 2009
july 2009
august 2009
september 2009
october 2009
november 2009
december 2009
january 2010
february 2010
march 2010
april 2010
may 2010
june 2010
july 2010
august 2010
september 2010
october 2010
november 2010
december 2010
january 2011
february 2011
march 2011
april 2011
may 2011
june 2011
july 2011
august 2011
september 2011
october 2011
november 2011
january 2012

color rabbit illustration
by terry colon

rabbit girl illustration
by terry colon
with assembly by
jay anderson

white rabbit illustration
by loretta lopez

all letters to the rabbit become the property of the rabbit blog