My post on Knocked Up is now up at HuffPo. Check it out, and tell me if you agree/disagree!

(And ps Jessica was a hoot on The Colbert Show last night! Loved that she opened by giving him a t-shirt that said “Feminist Chicks Dig Me” – cuz we do.)

Jessica Valenti will be on Comedy Central’s “The Colbert Report” discussing her book, Full Frontal Feminism: A Young Woman’s Guide to Why Feminism Matters, tonight. Tune in at 11:30pm Eastern! (GO JESSICA!)

If you’re looking for a summer read to kick off the season, I highly recommend Lynn Harris’ Death By Chick Lit. Maybe I’m enjoying it so much because I’m about to launch a book and am drinking that complicated cocktail of selfish envy and altruistic delight for all my friends who are currently publishing books to great acclaim. Or maybe I’m enjoying it because it’s just damn lol funny. Enough about why. Just read it. Because it will make you laugh. If you don’t believe me, ask Marco, or ask my cat, because it’s been making them laugh out loud too. (Ok, that cat line proves it: *I* am not funny.)

Here’s a teaser:

LOLA SOMERVILLE WOULD KILL FOR A BOOK DEAL.
APPARENTLY, SHE’S NOT ALONE.

You’ve heard of Lola Somerville. Or not. Her first novel, much anticipated by her mother, was promptly eclipsed by…everyone else’s first novel. These days, seems no one Lola knows can write a letter to the editor without having it optioned for a major motion picture. Sure, Lola thinks, I have a great geek-hottie husband and a cool apartment in “up and coming” Brooklyn—but just once, can’t I write some random article and have Jodie Foster call me for the film rights? Or jeez, okay, Minnie Driver. Just something?

Then one night at a swanky book party, Lola finds her frenemy Mimi McKee, author of Gay Best Friend, dead in the basement, throat slashed with a broken martini glass. And when the bodies of It-Girl writers begin to pile up, Lola starts asking dangerous questions: Are the murders connected? Am I next? If not, um, why not? If I solve the mystery, then will my agent remember my name? And as Lola digs deeper, the stakes get higher. Will getting her hands on the killer—and the book deal bound to follow—mean losing the people she loves most?

As I mentioned, I came home from a very heady feminist conference this weekend in the mood for some slightly lighter fare. So on Sunday Marco and I went to see Knocked Up–the original plan was Spiderman 3, but Judd Apatow won out. Yesterday, my dear boy sent me the links to reviews in Salon and Slate. “Both positive, but Slate has gender issues.”

So did I.

Let me say first that I enjoyed the movie, wholeheartedly. I laughed. And I cringed. Maybe it was my feminist hangover from the conference, but I pretty quickly got the sense that Knocked Up was a pregnancy movie for boys by boys. Which is great. I mean, we need those, and we need them badly. Men are parents too. It’s about time we had some sensitive stories about what it’s like for men to become fathers–when they’re so-called ready and especially when they’re not. I love that the Ben character (Seth Rogen) walks the three miles to the gyno’s office even after Allison (Katherine Heigl) throws him out of the car, and that he eventually reads the pregnancy books. And Apatow’s portrayal of male bonding throughout the movie was disgustingly sweet–by which I mean disgusting at times, according to this perhaps-too-easily-grossed-out girly girl reviewer, but I get it: genuine and sweet.

Still, I agree with Slate’s Dana Stevens, who comments that, in this movie at least, Apatow doesn’t get (or write) chicks as well as he writes (and gets) dudes. Knocked Up is eons from being misogynist. But the movie’s two basic premises–that, boom! young rising professional Allison wants to keep the baby, recent-life-changing-promotion-notwithstanding, and that she’s willing to take such a heartfelt second look at the guy who severely grossed her out the morning after–struck me as forced vocabulary. This is Guyland indeed: pregnant is “knocked up,” abortion is referred to in euphemism (“rhymes with ‘shmashmortion”), and (spoiler alert!!) the geek gets the prom queen. In other words, it’s a fantasy about the sensitive slacker who, learns, through impending fatherhood, to grow up–and gets the girl. (The girl, to be fair, finds love where she least expects it. Fairy tale endings for all!) (Spoiler ends here.)

When the lights came up and my beloved dude turned to me and said, “I loved it!”, I didn’t want to be a spoilsport and offered up an enthusiastic, “Me too!” But truth be told, my love’s qualified. Sure, I’m willing to suspend disbelief when the Grey’s Anatomy hottie grew soft on a guy she couldn’t even get through breakfast with, and even after he flunked the second date. But when the image of a crowning baby head elicited the same “eew!” as the scene where Ben’s roomies transmit pink eye by farting on each other’s pillows (don’t ask), my grossdar got offended. Next time someone makes a movie about pregnancy for guys, maybe someone could throw us lingering feminist girly girls a little more than just a bone?

I just got back from the National Council for Research on Women’s 25th anniversary conference at Spelman, in Atlanta. Very historically rich feeling to be on that particular campus–and to hear directly from Moya Bailey, one of the Spelman students behind the Nelly protests. The conference was deliciously rich too. I had big fun unfurling the “Milestones in Women’s Research” banner I’d been working on with NCRW, and giving a workshop on translating research for trade. To balance things out a bit, I went to see Knocked Up last night with my beau. Since I haven’t had time for a real post since coming back, I’m vicariously offering up the following tidbits in the interim:

The New York Times has a piece today on new shows including The Starter Wife by Alessandra Stanley, who has an interesting observation on female bonding/fighting:

The fact that nowadays women are allowed to like one another, even at the expense of men, is at the core of ladies-night hits like “Grey’s Anatomy.” So atavistic series like “The Bachelor” and “Desperate Housewives” that play down female camaraderie and instead showcase hissy fits and catfights have a naughty, contrarian tang.

Let’s hear it for the death of hissy. Bonding is in!

Over on HuffPo Courtney Martin serves up some intergenerational wisdom in her
review of Hannah Seligson’s new book, New Girl on the Job: Advice from the Trenches, which, says Courtney, “speaks directly to this disappointed generation of highly ambitious and more than slightly unrealistic women” aka Gen Y:

The New Girl on the Job uncovers the new American Dream. It’s not the perfect house, the white picket fence, and the 2.5 kids — it is fulfilling work and respect. We don’t just want to make a good living and put food on the table anymore, we want to be professional creatives, entrepreneurs, inventors, visionaries, and influentials. Sure it is a tall order. Sure we’re a little entitled. But isn’t this what you raised us to believe was possible?

Seligson sees the intergenerational rifts and addresses them very matter-of-factly: “You shouldn’t fear that the arrival of a new girl will undermine your position, or write off the older women you work with as out of touch. There is room for all of us.”

Yes and yes.

And many thanks to Veronica Arreola at the Women in Science and Engineering Program at the University of Illinois-Chicago for calling my attention to CNN’s latest bit on GGW and porn that includes an uncharacteristically nice little bow (sort of) to the Suicide Girls.

More tomorrow for reals, promise!

Because tomorrow is June 1 — the day I always remember as “school’s out hit the beach” day — and because I was that lone geek who got sad when school ended because I missed my teachers, I’m re-posting that pop quiz. For all you other geeks out there. You know who you are. Answers below.

THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT FEMINISM IN 2007? TEST YOUR GENERATIONAL IQ

1. Betty Friedan was:

A. A pin-up model from the 1940s
B. The mother of American cookbooks
C. A columnist for McCall’s
D. The founder of the National Organization for Women
E. Author of The Feminine Mystique

2. In 2007, for every dollar a man earns, a woman earns:

A. the same
B. 84 cents
C. 77 cents
D. 56 cents

3. During the Miss America Protest of 1968, radical feminists did all but which of the following:

A. Crowned a live sheep “Miss America”
B. Burned their bras
C. Threw aprons and high heels into a Freedom Trashcan
D. Sprayed Toni home permanent spray inside the convention hall

4. In 2007, women make up what percent of the U.S. Senate?

A. 3%
B. 14%
C. 33%
D. 50%

5. “Postfeminist” is:

A. A term coined in 1919 by a group of literary radicals in Greenwich Village who rejected the feminism of their mothers one year before women won the right to vote
B. A term used in the 1980s to describe an era in which feminism was deemed unhip and unnecessary
C. A media-hyped label that irritates third-wave feminists more than Adam Corolla
D. All of the above

6. The Real Hot 100 is:

A. A new reality tv show
B. A list of the hottest women according to Maxim magazine
C. A campaign to redefine hotness by refiguring the standards to honor guts and not just glam
D. Hot sauce

7. The Equal Rights Amendment was introduced in:

A. 1923
B. 1942
C. 1969
D. 1971

8. In 2007, what percent of tenured professors at PhD-granting universities are women?

A. 7%
B. 16%
C. 20%
D. 50%

9. Title IX is:

A. The name of Britney’s favorite club in NYC
B. A piece of pro-woman legislation passed in 1972 now under attack
C. The name of a secret feminist cult
D. The sister band of L7

10. In 2007, what percent of Fortune 500 CEOs are women?

A. 2.6%
B. 15%
C. 26%
D. 50%

11. BUST is:

A. A girlie magazine for men
B. A grrly magazine “for women with something to get off their chest”
C. A boxing move popularized by Laila Ali
D. A West Coast rapper

ANSWERS:
1 – C, D, and E, 2 – C, 3 – B, 4 – B, 5 – D, 6 – C, 7 – A, 8 – C, 9 – B, 10 – A, 11 – B

SCORE YOURSELF
11-8 = Superstar!
7-4 = Semi-superstar
3-0 = Hit the books, my friend. You got catching up to do.

Based on Sisterhood, Interrupted: From Radical Women to Grrls Gone Wild (available from Palgrave, June 12, 2007)

Is coverage of work/life getting slightly better out there, or am I hallucinating? Here’s a sampling from this week alone:

Newsweek reports on the slew of new books on the subject in a piece called “Trying to Opt Back In”

Fortune covers Gen Y at work in “Attracting the Twentysomething Worker”

In case you haven’t been there yet, highlights from HuffPo’s New “Living Now” Section (I love what they’ve done to the place!):

When You Work For Yourself, is “Maternity Leave” Possible? by Laura Vanderkam

Withholding What’s Needed Most by Marie Wilson

And an ole standby, just ’cause I can’t resist:

Salon’s Broadsheet sounds off on Tuesday’s dippy Supreme Court ruling re pay discrimination

This is a teaser for a longer post of mine that now appears under the same title over on HuffPo. An excerpt:

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you write a feminist book, someone is going to disagree with you. And that that someone is just as likely to be a woman. We are women, hear us roar.

It used to be easy (and satisfying) to blame the media for trivializing feminist debate as a catfight. Today, we sisters do it, unapologetically, to ourselves. It’s retro to think that women—who are as different from each other as they are from men—should agree. But in the struggle for power and parity, feminists have historically been, and continue to be, each other’s easiest target. This is our greatest mistake….

Before I get righteous and start calling for sisters to unite around combating, say, domestic violence or poor work/life policy instead of each other, however, a confession: I’ve become unhealthily obsessed by this latest round of feminist warfare. I’ve become my own filtered Gawker, cataloguing slams and online sightings (Leslie Bennetts spotted defending her book sales against The New York Times! Jessica Valenti bravely accepting a Choice award in DC, looking like a hottie!). It’s addictive and I’m not proud. I track these feminist celebs through Google alerts as if they were, oh I don’t know, presidential candidates or Paris Hilton. And like a campaign manager or god forbid Paris’ publicity rep, I scour alerts and follow lengthy comment threads, scanning for lessons….

Read the rest in the new Living Now section at HuffPo...!

Check out this lovely graphic my marketing director at Palgrave made using the cool little graphics from the cover — I love it!

On HuffPo today (where I’ll soon be posting, too), Erica Jong calls for younger women writers to protest their ghettoization on the chick lit shelves:

Feminism didn’t change deep-seated priorities about what — or who — matters. I see deeply diminished expectations in young women writers. They may grumble about the chick lit ghetto, but they dare not make a fuss for fear they won’t be published at all. Their brashness is real enough, but they accept their packaging as the price of being published. My generation expected more. We did not always get it, but at least categorization outraged us. Where is the outrage now?

Feminists used to say the personal is political. I think we need to consider that message again now. We will never give peace a chance until we start paying as much attention to women as to war. Unless we value the bonds of love as much as male territoriality, we are goners.

I would like to see the talented new breed of American women writers — my daughter’s generation — protest their ghettoization. We need a new wave of feminism to set things right. But we’d better find a new name for it because like all words evoking women, the term feminism has been debased and discarded. Let’s celebrate our femaleness rather than fear it. And let’s mock the old-fashioned critics who dismiss us for thinking love matters. It does.

But younger women ARE protesting, and publishing outside of chick lit too. A notable example of course is Elizabeth Merrick’s anthology, This Is Not Chick Lit. And there are more like these in the works. They’re coming, Erica! Keep faith.

(And check out Elizabeth’s post on HuffPo back in April 2006, on her title.)