Facts to Consider

• In 1973, the American Psychiatric Association removed the term "homosexuality" from the list of mental and emotional disorders.  Sexual orientation is not a disorder, therefore, it does not need to be cured.

• In 1990, the American Psychological Association stated that scientific evidence shows that reparative therapy does not work and that it can do more harm than good.  

• In 1998, the American Psychiatric Association stated it was opposed to reparative therapy, stating "psychiatric literature strongly demonstrates that treatment attempts to change sexual orientation are ineffective. However, the potential risks are great, including depression, anxiety and self-destructive [suicidal] behavior..." 

• The American Medical Association, states in its policy number H-160.991, that it “opposes, the use of ‘reparative’ or ‘conversion’ therapy that is based upon the assumption that homosexuality per se is a mental disorder or based upon the a priori assumption that the patient should change his/her homosexual orientation”.

• In 2001, The U.S. Surgeon General's Call to Action to Promote Sexual Health and Responsible Sexual Behavior asserted that homosexuality is not "a reversible lifestyle choice”.

• Richard Cohen, one of the main reparative therapists, is permanently excluded from the American Counseling Association (ACA). 

“Reparative therapy” is unethical. It does not work and it is dangerous and destructive. The damage that can be done by this practice is real. It can destroy someone's self esteem and faith and may lead to self-destructive and suicidal behavior. 

Since I realized I haven't updated in, you know, forever...

Mostly I've been preoccupied with work, bills, t'shirts, bills...

Also, I have a new cell phone now so if you try to call me on the old one you won't be able to reach me. Also, if I had any of your phone numbers, I no longer do. My new # is 202-460-2950.

Tchao.

It's aliiiiiiiive

Well kids, we're all moved in and settlin' down right fair. Except for the whole workin' into overtime thing. Kinda sucks, t' tell it plain.

You know you're in your first apartment when it's eleven at night and you're scrounging the yellow pages for a restaurant that's still open and delivers. On finding none, you head to the kitchen to scrounge there, only to find a pantry full of spices and random crap and shelves and shelves of pasta and rice-a-roni. There's also that half-eaten box of corn pops which constituted your lunch and afternoon snack.

The fridge! The last thing that stands between your fat old belly and a night of hunger pangs! Damn. Two twelve-packs of diet pepsi, a couple yogurts, some tortillas and the questionable remains of a pack of Oscar Mayer turkey breast. Ooooh the options.

Yum yum. Turkey and tortilla rollups are just so filling. Let's just hope the bird doesn't offer a final hoorah.

Moral of this Xanga entry: send your college students care packages. It'll help minimize the consumption of dust bunnies and cockroach stew.

[Current mood: Cranky.]

Currently Listening Execution of All Things By Rilo Kiley Better Son or Daughter see related

MY little brother is cuter than YOUR little brother!

Currently Listening Castaways and Cutouts By The Decemberists see related

Well, just to let you know I'm not dead... I post. Also, I'd like to inform everyone that I have a new place of residence. I had someone take a picture of me so that I could show you.

When I'm good they'll let me back in with all the other people. I hear it's nice, provided you don't bite the nurses. They don't like that very much, you know.

Seee? Told you! Biting is very bad. ::nod::

It's the simple things you forget when you're crazy, you know? Things like hygiene and hairbrushing and all that jazz.

Sometimes it's okay, and you're like, maybe I can do this. And then you snap... and just want to go out kicking and screaming, dude. Sometimes you just have to shout, "Take one more step and I'll jam this into my aorta!!!"

And then someone comes along and says, "Lisa. Your aorta is in your chest." Damn, plan spoiled. So much for an impressive gush of blood. Ah, well.

But seriously, sometimes it's just all too much. You know? I mean, greater people have snapped under lesser circumstances. People can only take so much before the mask breaks.

In the end, I guess you can always hope that the finals will finally end. (See how articulate they make me?) You can stop writing ten page papers, 14 page papers, five page papers, annotated bibliographies.

In the mean time, though... Little breaks now and then work wonders.