Sometimes you can't go anywhere without setting off a chorus of whistles, catcalls, p.o.r.nographic propositions, nasty comments, kissing noises, barking, derogatory remarks, ethnic slurs, s.e.xual innuendos, and ratings games.

Is it any wonder that more women than men suffer from migraines?

The prevailing wisdom, of course, is to ignore the ignoramuses. But sometimes the constant hara.s.sment just wears a girl down. We end up walking around enraged, defensive, uncomfortable, and annoyed. And why should we suffer? We're not the ones with the verbal diarrhea here.

So while talking back might not curb the dogs, so to speak, it may at least help us to blow off some steam.

Suggested retorts: "Get a life, get a job" used to work wonders for the home-girls in my neighborhood.

Ditto for, "Dream on, baby."

"Tell it to your mother" gives guys pause.

So does, "Yeah? Say that to your wife and daughters. See how much they appreciate a comment like that."

And something my co-worker used to say a lot: "You couldn't afford me."

Of course, with all of these we risk provoking the guys and escalating the exchange. So, obviously, we've got to choose our battles.

But my friends and I discovered a comeback that has served us well and seems to be all-purpose: "Suffer, baby."

It keeps us in a position of power, not defensiveness, and actually makes the guy laugh.

More important, it usually leaves him speechless, while we keep right on walking like all that.

6. Don't f.u.c.k Republicans or anti-choicers. Take it from those comedic Greeks. In Aristophanes' play Lysistrata, the women withheld their s.e.xual favors from the men in order to put an end to the war between Athens and Sparta. By the end of the play, the guys were all hobbling around the Acropolis with huge erections, frantically brokering peace.

Well, now. For years, certain American men have been waging a war against women's s.e.xuality and reproductive freedom. (Big surprise: Seventy percent of "pro-life" activist leaders are men, as are the majority of hard-core Republicans). So why should we put out for them?

Really. The f.u.c.k should stop here. Any guy who votes or works against our s.e.xual freedom and equality-actively or pa.s.sively-shouldn't be allowed to reap the benefits of it. Let him see that his politics have real consequences. If it's so important to him to control s.e.xual activity and reproductive rights, let him start with his own. We'll be all too happy to help him.

I mean, we don't see too many Sistahs voluntarily sleeping with the Boyz in White Hoods, do we? Or Jewish chicks willingly bedding down with neo-n.a.z.is? Why share our booty with someone who's trying to make it property of the US Government?

If a guy wants to enjoy our cookies, then let him defend our bakery, thank you.

7. And if all else fails: Knee 'em in the nuts. Hey, if guys are really going to abuse their s.e.xual power, we gotta take it away from them. G.o.ddess knows men don't think twice about preying on our physical vulnerabilities. Besides, if a guy's family jewels are so sacred, Mother Nature wouldn't have put 'em right out there in front, just dangling in the wind, in the direct line of our fabulous kneecaps.

Chapter 23.

Onward, Vixen Soldiers!

In politics, if you want anything said,

ask a man. If you want anything done,

ask a woman.

-MARGARET THATCHER Okay, here's a joke.

In a medieval town, two men and a woman are about to be beheaded.

When the first man is brought to the guillotine, the executioner points to the neck rest and asks, "Do you want to look up at the blade or down away from it?"

"Down away from it," says the man.

The executioner places the man's head facedown in the neck rest and pulls the cord. Lo and behold, the blade doesn't fall! The executioner and the attending priest concur that this is a miracle.

"G.o.d has clearly intervened to spare your life!" they tell the prisoner. "Go! Live in peace with the king's forgiveness!"

The second man is brought to the execution block.

"Do you want to look up at the blade or down away from it?" the executioner asks.

"Down away from it," says the second man.

The executioner places the man's head facedown in the neck rest and pulls the cord. Again, the blade doesn't fall! Again, the executioner and the priest exclaim, "This is a miracle! G.o.d has clearly meant to spare your life! Go! Live in peace with the king's forgiveness!"

Then the woman is brought to the block.

"Do you want to look up at the blade or down away from it?" the executioner asks.

"Up at it," she says.

The executioner places her faceup in the guillotine and pulls the cord. And again! The blade doesn't fall!

"Another miracle!" the executioner and the priest shout.

"Oh, no, I see the problem," says the woman, pointing up. "The blade's just stuck. Pull a little harder."

This joke, told to me by another woman, made me groan: A woman staring right up at the blade, helping it along? Oh, Girls. Let's face it: Sometimes, that's exactly what we do.

Don't get me wrong. Unlike conservatives, I don't get my jollies blaming the poor, oppressed, and downtrodden for being poor, oppressed, and downtrodden. Nor do I believe that we gals get what we deserve in the gender-equity sweepstakes.

But too often, when women are already on the executioner's block, I see us lying there, staring straight up at the blade, and in our eagerness to prove that we're intelligent and cooperative, that we're nice and accommodating and good sports, we help that blade right along.

I can't tell you how often I've heard white friends say, "Well, I'm not a feminist or anything, but . . ." Or sisters say, "Hey, feminism is for white girls." Or straight girls say, "Feminists are man-hating lesbians." Or young career women say, "Feminism is so over."

The modern women's-rights movement may have been going on for decades, yet we're still reluctant to go to bat for ourselves politically or a.s.sert ourselves as a social force. Our att.i.tude seems to be culled not from the pages of Ms. magazine but from Mad: "What, Me Worry?" We're a generation of Alfred E. Neumans-albeit with old "Girl Power" T-shirts and nose rings.

Why are so many young, straight women willing to feminist-bash these days?

I guess we can dismiss Katie Roiphe as a lobotomized narcissist. (Her work does seem to follow the formula of, "If it happened to me and two Harvard friends, it's reality!") And Elizabeth Wurtzel not only admits that she is on drugs but actually writes books about them. As for Wendy Shalit, the modesty maniac, well, c'mon. It's easy to tell other women to keep their legs crossed when you've never been so giddy with l.u.s.t that you've walked into a lamp post.

But for others, feminism's traditional concerns are decidedly WW-wealthy and white. (You want the right to work outside the home? Hey, most of us have been doing that for centuries, thank you ... You say religion is s.e.xist? Well, where do you think I get my strength?) For still others, it rankles us stylistically. We find it WWW-Wealthy, white, and whiny. I mean, how many Take Back the Night rallies can a girl really stomach? Speaking out against violence against women is critical, but hear about victimhood long enough, and eventually you just want to go buy a lipstick and call it a day.

Friends of mine with kids, of course, feel feminism ignores motherhood and denigrates their choices. Still others believe that being a feminist, like being a liberal, has been maligned by our government, the media, and men because it threatens our nation's traditional values and right-wing agenda.

Also, feminism is an easy target, a ready-made scapegoat for anyone who's unhappy with the way things are going in this world. Real agents of negative changes in family life over the past thirty years have been vast abstract ent.i.ties, such as corporations, the shifting economy, globalization, and urban sprawl. As muckraker Michael Moore points out, more Americans believe the world is run by corporations then by the president, but most of us can't name the CEO of Exxon. So, it's far easier to blame Gloria Steinem for women's frustrations because, hey, at least she has a face.

Yet some of our ambivalence toward feminism, I believe, also stems from the fact that straight women, unlike any other oppressed group in the world, are in the unique position of being emotionally involved with our "oppressors."

Yeah, we want equal rights and personal power. But we also want love and partnership. And we've been taught that the two sets of needs are mutually exclusive. A powerful woman, we're taught, is not desirable. She's a ballbuster. She's ugly. She's humorless. She's uns.e.xy. She's Alexandra on Josie and the p.u.s.s.ycats-the aggressive, dateless villain with a streak of gray in her hair. Or Daria, who's sharper than Lorena Bobbit's cutlery but equally unpopular with the guys. Or, to deal in real life for a moment: Martha Stewart. Ms. Stewart is certainly no more annoying and self-aggrandizing than Donald Trump, but the media has harped on her abrasive personality, single-hood, and failed marriage even more than it's harped on his.

We girls get the message and we get it early: Strong women don't get the guys. Stand up for yourself and you stand alone.

And no other oppressed group has the privilege of this delightful Catch-22, of thinking that they have to choose love or power, helplessness or loneliness, basic emotional needs or fundamental freedoms. African-Americans don't worry that if they speak out against racism: Oh! Gee! White people won't like us! h.o.m.os.e.xuals don't worry that no one will date them because of their politics. Hispanics don't fear that by embracing Latino culture, they'll never get laid.

But straight women? We worry that if we say we're a feminist, no one will want us.

Can you blame us, then, for our reluctance?

But.

Let's flip through our reality checkbook for a moment, shall we? Just who are all the famous, lonely, bitter feminists that the world is so quick to vilify?

Gloria Steinem, who's had numerous wild affairs and marriage proposals? Susan Sarandon? Elizabeth Dole? Oprah Winfrey? Naomi Wolf? Patricia Ireland? Mavis Leno? Alice Walker? Susie Bright? Catherine MacKinnon? Wendy Kaminer? Pat Schroeder? Anna Quindlen? Queen Latifah? Cybill Shepherd? Roseanne? Drew Barrymore?

These women are living proof that bodacious feminist broads who speak their minds get their goodie bags, too.

So we Third Wave babes would be wise to dispense with our fears and recognize that we've inherited some incredibly hard-won freedoms from gals who came before us. And these privileges don't exempt us from their upkeep.

After all, s.e.xual discrimination, unfortunately, has not gone the way of the eight-track tape. Women today are shouldering a disproportionate share of the burden of raising families and bringing home the bacon. We still earn less money than the guys. Child care sucks. Fetus Fanatics are blowing up women's health clinics and killing doctors in the name of "defending life." Men are totally confused and bent out of shape about masculinity. All the "isms" are alive and kicking. Health care is discriminatory. And if we took a group photo of the people in the highest positions of power in American corporations and the United States Government, it would still look like a gentlemen's country club in Greenwich, Connecticut.

Besides, while we might see ourselves as "not just women but human beings," there are a lot of politicians and religious leaders out there who don't. In their eyes, we gals are "naturally" destined to be wombs and homemakers-and if we don't agree, well, they'll try to pa.s.s legislation to make it so. (Unless, of course, we're poor. Then they'll pa.s.s laws to keep us from "sitting at home doing nothing.") So our rights are like muscles-if we don't flex 'em, exercise 'em, and keep 'em strong, they'll be history. Use 'em or lose 'em.

Yeah, the politics of victimhood are wearying. Given a choice, many of us would rather spend our precious time enjoying our freedom instead of defending it. But we can't afford the luxury of complacency. As actress Carrie Fisher once said, "You never reach the point where you say, 'Okay, I'm successful now. I might as well take a nap.' "

Besides, somebody's gotta rule the world, so why the h.e.l.l shouldn't it be us?

We may just need to give political activism a makeover of sorts. Because, frankly, holding hands and singing "k.u.mbaya" ain't doin' it for us. Ditto for standing in the rain with a Stop Rape placard. I mean, why do that when we can e-mail our congressperson and volunteer at the women's shelter? Our generation's tools and sensibilities are different. And so we should adopt and adapt political activity so that it's viable and relevant to who we are in our lives and times. No reason to become a generation lost in cybers.p.a.ce, after all.

And so, to this end, allow me to suggest a few humble "makeover" tips: 1. Choose our battles. n.o.body can fight racism, deliver meals to people with AIDS, and protect the rain forest all at once. That's a good recipe for burnout. So is viewing the world in absolute terms. Let's just pick one or two causes apiece that we want to champion and stick with 'em. A recent study comparing conservative and liberal foundations revealed that the conservative ones are more effective because they concentrate their efforts. Good leftie organizations tend to spread themselves too thin. So let's focus our efforts so they can be sustained over the long haul.

2. Think small. My roommate and I once put "Get Life, Save World, Win n.o.bel Peace Prize" on our to-do list. It was n.o.ble but deluded. Being a Big Sister to a little girl-or teaching self-defense to elderly women-is simply more feasible than "overthrowing the patriarchy."

3. Show 'em the money. Since "money talks"-and since we chicks are accused of never shutting up in the first place-why not become financial yentas? If we have some extra moolah, let's put it where our mouth is to promote our best interests. Maybe this means helping poor mothers purchase business suits for job interviews. Or supporting a cool woman who's running for Congress. Or taking a page from our Korean sisters and pooling our wealth to help each other launch businesses.

If we can donate just ten dollars a month to promote a cause we believe in, that's one hundred and twenty dollars a year. If we can team up with, say, nine of our friends, that's twelve hundred dollars annually. So for the price of a couple of magazines apiece, even those of us in entry-level jobs can wield some real clout. Why leave all the power to capitalist tools like Steve Forbes? h.e.l.l, his idea of "justice" is a flat tax.

4. Don't believe the hype. Our culture gives us every opportunity to dumb ourselves down or numb ourselves out. It's easy to succ.u.mb to the lulling fantasies of TV's Almighty Cathode Ray Nipple. It's also easy to get disgusted by the whole enterprise and tune out. But being a powerful woman in America demands that we remain conscious and self-educated. So we gotta read the newspapers, the alternative publications, and surf the Net for substance. Let's know our enemies, too: Check out stuff like the American Spectator or the National Review. (Just don't try to read them while you're eating.) 5. Exit the comfort zone. The ability to work with people whom we don't like is crucial to our success-though, ironically, human impulse always seems to go against this. Whenever I myself am confronted with, say, a twenty-two-year-old Young Republican smoking a cigar, my instinct is to high-tail it into the next room for the sake of preserving world peace.

How-evah. While surrounding ourselves with people who think and feel like we do is good for the old self-esteem (and blood pressure), we cannot live our entire lives trying to replicate and revive Lilith Fair. Learning to deal with adversity and difference will serve us far better in the long run than trying to exist exclusively with like-minded people. So whether this means reaching out to immigrant communities, co-sponsoring an event with the chamber of commerce, or having lunch with the White Boy Republican, stepping out of the womb is vital. In fact, the more we step out of our comfort zone, the bigger it becomes.

6. Get our pootie on the move. Ironically, so many recipes for women's "empowerment" these days are couched in terms of, well, the couch. Books like Chocolate for the Woman's Soul send us on a journey inward, down the path of self-a.n.a.lysis.

They claim that what we gals tell ourselves, imagine for ourselves, and realize about ourselves will enable us to rule our own Magic Kingdom. We'll be co-dependent no more and make unfoolish choices. Best of all, we can obtain such power without ever getting off the sofa. Wow. Talk about a course in miracles. Talk about habits of highly effective people.

But c'mon! We SmartMouth G.o.ddesses are wise to raise a well-shaped eyebrow at this stuff. Because women can't rule the planet if we haven't left our living rooms. To get powerful, it's better to put down the "creative visualization" books and get out of the house.

Right now, some twenty-three countries still prohibit women from getting a pa.s.sport or traveling unless they have permission from a male relative. Never mind that, h.e.l.lo, it's the twenty-first century: Women in Qatar still have to ask Dad if they can borrow the car. Saudi Arabian women are not allowed to drive, period. And, thanks to the Taliban, our sisters in Afghanistan can't even leave the d.a.m.n house by themselves without risking a beating.

Travel has always been a way of grooming men for power. In numerous cultures, preparing young men for leadership involves exposing them to an unfamiliar environment, whether this means sending them on a "walkabout" or to a s.a.d.i.s.tic English boarding school. It's no coincidence that many prestigious scholarships like the Rhodes and Fulbright require recipients to study in a foreign country. Mastery of the world requires, well, mastery of the world. Gotta feel comfortable in it.

And so, travel is a privilege and an educational opportunity that we Vixen Soldiers need to recognize, seize, and exploit wherever and whenever we can-be it through the Peace Corp, a road trip, or a fellowship-especially because so many women are hidden away, discouraged from venturing out, and relegated to the margins of public life. Learning about the world at large, and a.s.serting ourselves as a visible presence in it, ultimately means more power to all of us-including those girls who stay home.

7. Give leftie att.i.tudes a makeover. As far as activism goes, there's being Politically Correct (PC), and then there's Not Being an a.s.shole (NBA). Frankly, I'm voting for door number two these days.

Extreme PC-ism has a way of running people's pa.s.sion, enthusiasm, and political fervor through a strainer until there's nothing left but gruel. And, frankly, it's killed some gals' appet.i.tes for activism altogether.

Political Correctness may have started out as an effort to make people more conscientious and sensitive about power, privilege, difference, and language, but there's a fine line between being sensitive and being thin-skinned, and I'm afraid that PC has reached the point of epidermal translucency. Yeah, if my gal from j.a.pan prefers "Asian" to "Oriental," she's got my backing. Ditto for a person in a wheelchair who prefers "physically disabled" to "crippled." And I'm not for deliberately kicking dogs, exploiting Third World labor, or dumping toxic waste into the ocean, either.

But when animal-rights activists ask the village of Fishkill, New York, to change its name to Fishsave so as not to promote cruelty to trout, I mean, c'mon, people. This is a symptom of Too Much Free Time.

When a woman sues the Murfreesboro, Tennessee, city hall for s.e.xual hara.s.sment because a painting of a half-nude woman in its rotunda "offended" her, she makes a mockery of laws designed to protect us gals from profoundly serious discrimination.

And when political discussions deteriorate into hairsplitting about who in the room is being oppressive and who's being oppressed, augh! Really, it's enough to make a girl a Libertarian.

If we're going to strive for a better and more diverse world, we've got to give the people in it a little room to breathe, misspeak, and be themselves.

8. Make Susan B. Anthony proud. A few years ago, I worked in a congressional office. We'd receive letters essentially like this: Dear Congresswoman: There's a toxic-waste dump in my backyard. Also, the schools are a mess, the roads are full of potholes, my family has no health care, and the noise from the airport is driving us crazy. Can't you do something about this? Also, I want lower taxes and smaller government. Congress sucks. It'll be a cold day in h.e.l.l before you b.a.s.t.a.r.ds get my vote.

Unfortunately, this reflects a logic that too many of us employ: The state of the world sucks, so I'm not voting for anyone who runs it.

Yeah, well, my grandmother had a motto: If you don't vote, you can't complain.

If we're unhappy with the status quo, we've got to use whatever tools are at our disposal, limited as they may seem. Frankly, we women have more to win-and lose-at the voting booth. We're more likely than men to depend on the government for health care and Social Security. We comprise two-thirds of all minimum-wage workers. Our reproductive and health-care decisions are largely up for grabs. And since we're the primary heads of households in a majority of American homes these days, we stand to benefit more from things like parental leave and public education-things brought to us by Yours Truly, the government. As long as politicians want to make our lives and bodies their business, we've got to make their business ours.

Besides, if you ask me, the right to complain is simply too precious not to defend.

9. Let's make like the National Rifle a.s.sociation. Not with the guns, but with the single-mindedness. Because, ironically, we have a lot to learn from the NRA. The NRA may be mercenary and gun crazy, but they're a model of brilliant political organization. The NRA supports some outrageous and highly unpopular ideas, yet for decades they have gotten plenty of politicians to take them seriously and endorse truly psychotic legislation. (I mean, the Second Amendment calls for a "well-regulated militia," not for allowing every delusional, wife-beating yahoo to freely purchase an Uzi, thank you.) How has the NRA been so successful? It has a very clear idea of what's important to its members, then targets these issues for unwavering attention, money, and clout. It doesn't matter if a political candidate has brilliant stands on health care and education. If he or she supports, say, equipping guns with childproof locks, the NRA will oppose him or her. It will throw all its money (and it does have s.h.i.tloads) and endors.e.m.e.nts behind the opposing candidate, providing that that candidate thinks it's okay to allow a mentally unstable teenager to buy a Glock at a Kmart. Then the NRA will summon its members to flood the polls on election day. And the members will come-and vote.