As many of you are probably already aware, Kevin from kapgar and author Carly Milne have put together the Grassroots Blogger Book Marketing Campaign to benefit RAINN, the Rape and Incest National Network.
Here’s the scoop from Kevin’s site:

“April is National Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month, and it’s a big month for the Rape and Incest National Network (RAINN). The organization’s goal is to raise enough money to be able to offer victims of sexual abuse, sexual assault and rape an online hotline offering counseling and assistance 24 hours a day, seven days a week. RAINN’s Chelsea Bowers, Kevin Apgar and Sexography author Carly Milne have banded together to launch a one-of-a-kind online fundraising event to help RAINN reach that goal… but they need your help! All you have to do is do what you already do – blog, but with a twist.
Carly’s book, Sexography, is both a tragic and comedic memoirs about her journey of sexual self-discovery. And now, it’s your turn to blog your own version of Sexography. Even if you’re not a “sex writer” per se, we want to encourage you to explore the comedy, fear, silliness, scariness, million-and-one emotions and million-and-one experiences that are mental, physical, emotional and spiritual, all of which make up the rich tapestry of sexuality.”

So since sex is a topic I rarely cover, I figured now was as good a time as any to break that barrier. A few quick notes, though:
If you are:
a) uncomfortable with the topic of sex toys and self-love, or
b) in any way related to me…
… please know that you are reading at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Steel Drivin’ Man – Part One
I had walked past the store dozens of times, always glancing in without being too conspicuous.
Tulip, an Intimate Toy Gallery, the sign said. The delicate lace curtains spoke of a Martha Stewartly quiet elegance, but the leather whip and harness in the window told me otherwise. As I would peek in the welcoming yet daunting doorway, I would catch a glimpse of row upon row of cheerful, brightly colored silicone apparatuses.
For all my perceived open-mindedness, I had to admit that I was a bit of a sexual luddite when it came to self-love. Some habits die hard. As with any form of technology, there are the “early adopters,” the “me-too’s,” and the “Ohmigod, how is it possible you don’t already own one of those’s?”
I just recently figured out how to text message, so it should be clear into which category I fell.
But much like John Henry, that steel drivin’ man, I was a believer in the human spirit. As the tale goes, that salesman came to town with promises of a machine that could do the work of ten railmen, better and faster. Old John knew that no steam engine could out-pace the brute force of his pounding flesh, and I felt exactly the same way.
“T’ain’t no machine can beat me,” I thought.
Over time, though, curiosity started to itch at me like a fresh mosquito bite on my ankle. What if it’s true, what they say? What if this technology is the wave of the future? What if it really is faster, better, more efficient than me? Do I want to end up like poor John Henry, a dead winner?
So I decided that I would go into that store, but not right away. First I needed to educate myself so as not to seem the rube. I hit the Internet hard, spending time on all the key sites: Good Vibrations, Come as You Are, Toys in Babeland, all of them. I studied the makes and models, read customer reviews, learning everything about battery life, charging time, noise level and portability.
I was ready.
It was a Wednesday evening when I finally walked into my local adult toy store. I remember this because it was a calculated decision. I didn’t want to go there too close to the weekend, lest I seem like I had nothing better to do, and too early in the week just seemed wrong, like going to a bar at 10:00am.
It was a small store – intimate, just like the tagline said – and made me feel like I was walking into one of those exclusive clothing boutiques in the hipster neighborhoods. You know the ones – where each table has only one sweater lying perfectly in the center so you don’t dare touch it. Except here, the center table was stacked high with every possible type of vibrator known to woman.
Like a ninja, I slithered along the walls, past the nipple clamps and ball gags, toward the bookshelves. I’m just here to read, because I’m a reader, I said to myself. There was one other customer in the store, and she was at the checkout counter, so I quickly occupied myself by perusing the lesbian erotica section, admiring the collection of hand-blown glass dildos, and flipping through the position-a-day calendar to see what was on my birthday… until finally I heard the words I was dreading:
“What can I help you find?”

[To Be Continued]

If you decide to donate to RAINN as part of this awareness campaign, be sure to write “GBBMC2008” in the “More Information” box and note that you came from Run Jen Run. And if you’re interested in joining all the other bloggers promoting this cause, you can sign up at Kevin’s site through April 15th. Thanks!
Click here to donate!

Filed under: General on April 8th, 2008