WOMAN.

I want to write something for Women's Herstory Month. I want to write of our lives getting better. I want to write of the magical equity that has come for us finally!

But I've had a strange few days...that make me think that just isn't true. Or perhaps the city is just getting to me. You be the judge.

1. On St. Patrick's Day, I was temping in Midtown. At lunch, I walked to Starbucks to find a college party going on in the streets. A young girl walked in front of me wearing the top of a green string bikini and white daisy dukes with an Irish flag wrapped around her shoulders...in MARCH. In the upper East Coast. As she walked by a particularly enthused group of young men, they yelled, "Show us your Irish tits!"

She stopped indignantly and screamed, "You can't talk to me like that!"

To which, I wonder, Sweetheart, what were you looking for then? And my next thought was, oh God, I'm just as bad as them.

2. The next morning on my way to this temping job, a homeless man on the train called me pretty and then whipped his dick out at me. I left the train to another car. No one else seemed to be bothered by it.

3. When I got to work that day for a temping agency that I haven't gotten much work for, I realize why. There is a line of 24 of us working this event for our Long Island white dude boss and I see how him talking real close and flirty to a co-worker. I look around and I see that I am the only white woman working, the only woman over a size 4 working and there are only 2 other white men (both of whom asked me for a sandwich when I dropped off office supplies at their station!)--every one else is a hot little black girl. The guy's got a type, that's for sure. Is this why I'm not getting work? I'm not the right KIND of woman?

4. I then introduce myself to the woman to my right, as we are about to spend 3 days together. Me: Hi, I'm Nikki.

Her: I don't need to know you.

Me: (stunned) Why not?

Her: I'm an angry black woman, that's why! (No I am not making this up.)

Me: Why are you so angry?

Her: Why are so entitled?!

Me: You're right, we don't need to know each other.

5. A few weeks ago, a actor friend of mine posted a comedy sketch she wrote and stars in and asked for feedback. Now, she is a beautifully talented woman. I watched this sketch and saw it was all about an abusive, violent, disrespectful man as her boyfriend being called out during a game of pictionary and the biggest punchline is that at the end, as she leaves him with her friend behind, he locks the door to rape the other girl. Literally the word "rape" is used no less than 10 times. There is nothing funny about this. And it was written, produced and featured WOMEN. When my friend asked me my thoughts, I told her with a lot of love and kindness. I haven't heard from her or anyone involved, all long-time friends, since.

6. I've found myself in the company of drag queens (imitation is the sincerest form of flattery no?) and gay men a lot lately. A LOT. On Monday, I went to two shows for friends: Manila Luzon hosting a viewing of RuPaul's Drag Race and Too Ugly for TV, hosted by Vodka Stinger at Pieces. Now it's an art to be a queen. And these two friends are totally different calibers: one is all look, one is all act. They are both stunning and have large followings in the city. And I know drag is about illusion!

But I'm at Boxers with these drag queens who are 6'3", teeny tiny men with ample padding in the right areas only and are just beautiful...and these men are LOVING them! No woman could ever look this way, but. So a friend of Manila's comes up to him while she is talking to me, and he literally blows me off and dismisses me by saying, "Yuck. A REAL girl." Manila sets him straight so fast, it's impressive as she and I go back a decade. But I start to feel that is the most honest statement I've heard all night or EVER in this community.

I then go to the next show to witness a segment called, Name that Ass, in which really gross, pornographic shots are displayed and then inaccurately put with celebrities. Again, I am among many drag queens and drag queen lovers and every time a picture of a vagina was put up, there was an uproar of how disgusting it was. You cannot imagine the outrage. Tallulah, another host, most deftly said, "I know, REAL lady parts...I try not to think they exist."

What's a woman to do when rejected or judged by size, race, authenticity and self? When will people understand what REAL WOMEN NEED, what REAL WOMEN ARE CAPABLE OF?! And really, the most important question is: When will women decide to GET REAL and STOP BEING A PART OF THE PROBLEM?

-OR- Maybe the city and this industry is just getting to me.