Tuesday, September 30, 2014

The worst relationship advice I ever received while single


There are two types of shitty relationship advice: Shitty advice that includes suggestions you would never, ever do, and shitty advice that doesn't actually offer any tangible suggestions but is just supposed to dumbfound you with its wisdom. 

The worst advice I've ever received about finding love falls into the latter category. 

Now, I should just add a disclaimer right now that I'm talking about relationship advice for people who actually do want to meet someone. Not the one, necessarily. Just someone. 

Which, let me tell you--before my current relationship, I was the perpetually single friend. The one who would just go from one dumbass to the next and was never with anyone for any length of time. At times, I absolutely loved being single and wouldn't have had it any other way and then other times, I really, really did want to meet someone. Also, I was a late bloomer, and you know that shit messes with your psyche. 

So what I'm saying is that, yes, there were times when I was very open to stupid advice on how to meet a guy. 

And, oh, I heard plenty. But what has stuck with me the most in its shittiness is this:

"You'll meet someone when you stop thinking about meeting someone."

Got it. Okay. So let's be clear, here. Your advice is that I need to trick the universe into thinking I don't give a fuck about love so it rewards me... with love? 

This is basically an iteration of, "Love comes when you least expect it." But it's somehow worse, because it's telling you to stop being a desperate bitch and just let love come to you, when everyone knows the second you tell someone to stop doing something, they're going to do the opposite of stop. Which in this case means continue to think too hard about meeting someone.

And, nevermind, that the people who give this advice are always people who are in relationships. Thanks for the wisdom, assholes. It probably sounds pretty good to you as you go to bed with your partner, but I'm not really getting any warm feelings about a nice guy "just being around the corner" when I'm going to bed with only the cast of fucking 30 Rock for company.

There's also that part about how single people are constantly encouraged to stop being single--whether it's a friend setting you up, a relative you only see a couple times a year always making sure to ask if you're seeing anyone, or the sad, simple fact that the most liked comments on Facebook are always about relationship statuses. 

But I mean, yeah, I'll devote myself solely to everything else in my life and stop thinking about romance just so that moment I "least expect" will come and I'll find my true love.

That sounds pretty solid.

So what's the worst relationship advice you've heard? Please divulge. 

Friday, September 26, 2014

What's your snob specialty?


I just spent 15 minutes trying to think of a better title for this post and it's not happening, so I'm just going to run with it. What do I mean by snob specialty? I'm talking about that one thing you are a total snob about--whether it's music, film, fashion or, hell, cheese. 

I always liked to pride myself on not being a snob about anything (except maybe Wal-mart), but then my boyfriend lovingly informed me that I'm a total snob about not being a snob. 

I take so much pride in not being a snotty asshole, that I'm a total self-righteous, uh, asshole about it.

In my defense, I feel like I've known too many people who are so caught up in appearing 'cool' that they're totally insufferable about their likes and dislikes when it comes to popular culture. OH MY GOD KATY PERRY'S MUSIC IS A TOTAL CACOPHONY. I CAN'T EVEN HANDLE IT.  Or, OH MY GOD TWILIGHT.

Really? Is there lower hanging fruit than Twilight? Everyone knows it's shit. Some people just choose to get on board and fantasize about a sparkly boyfriend who lives in a glass house with a large bunch of overly pale people.

I don't want to hear about how terrible pop music is. It's popular because it's catchy.

I don't want to hear about how you just can't bring yourself to drink boxed wine. It's called a fucking bargain.

I don't want to hear about how Applebee's is, oh my god, so disgusting. The food isn't at all inventive, sure, but it's not even close to being gross. It's just not packaged in a way that'll make you feel cool for eating it. Don't even care--that won't stop me from eating the shit out of their pretzel bread sticks, oriental chicken salad and white peach sangria. 

You know the people who just so happen to like everything that's considered cool and nothing that isn't and even their guilty pleasures are cool enough in an 'ironic' way? Well, I think they're full of shit. And desperately self-conscious.

But then I think I'm just self-conscious about liking shit. 

It's a vicious cycle. 

So what's your snob specialty? 

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

My list of demands


So, apparently Ariana Grande is in deep shit for being a diva or something. I know that's not her above, but if you're going to talk about divas and you don't reference the queen, obviously your priorities aren't straight.

By 'deep shit,' I guess I mean Grande is being written about in tabloids for alleged diva behavior while she continues being a hit pop star who likes to tweet the word love a lot. To be honest, while I have an opinion on her hair, I don't actually have an opinion on her. Or her supposed shitty behavior. 

Probably because I don't actually care how she acts and also because it's my secret fantasy to be a diva everyone is scared of. 

Have you ever thought about your list of demands? I have. 

Here they are:

1. A bottle of wine in every color wine comes in. That includes white zinfandels. Am I ashamed? Oh, I don't know, do I look like I'm fucking ashamed?

2. Stemless wine glasses to drink from. Ideally the ones that have that really sharp angle at the widest point of the glass. Don't know what I'm talking about? Guess you better google that shit.

3. Seasonal Oreos. No, I'm not talking about the peanut butter, cookie dough or those godawful-looking watermelon ones. I mean the Oreos dyed with seasonal colors which somehow manage to taste better than original Oreos even though I don't think they have special flavoring.

4. A case of X-Rated liquor. For when I feel like being classy.

5. Those pretty Italian soda cans to mix with the X-Rated.

6. All seasons of the Real Housewives, every franchise. Yes, even the forgettable D.C. season.

7. Ray-ban Wayfarer sunglasses. In case I forget my Target knock-offs and it's really bright out.

8. A constant supply of finger foods, including but not limited to roasted kale, caprese salad on little toothpicks, cocktail weenies, baked brie, shrimp cocktail and pickled eggs with hot sauce.

9. A luxury cat bed for Plumcat and the kind of steak you only eat on the holidays for her to eat everyday.

10. Just kidding, she doesn't like steak. I just want you to know even my cat is above you.

11. One of those bras that stick to you so you can wear backless dresses with them. You know, just so I can build up my collection.

12. A gift bag of make-up. I assume you'll arrange ahead of time my skin tone and what colors suit me best.

13. A selection of pretty bras. I have this gross habit of wearing the same one over and over. Oh shit, pretend I didn't say that last part.

14. The essence of Beyonce, Taylor Swift and Kristen Stewart merged into one. Is that a weird mixture? Tell a pouty brunette who fucking cares.

15. The tears of all the popular girls from high school.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Let's get real(er) about blogging


Otherwise known as Part 2 of Let's Get Real About Blogging. Why another part? Because you'll learn that every blog post you write, there's also something you left out or could've said better.

So let's just get into it, shall we?

(Disclaimer: In case you're just stumbling upon this blog, this advice is for people just starting blogging from someone who's only a few steps above. In case, you know, you just checked out my stats, and were like, "bitch, please.")


1. Always, always, ALWAYS use a picture with each post. This advice is the reason I always have a dumbass gif or photo with each post. It's been drilled into my head. But you know what? For the longest time my favorite blog was The Frenemy and she rarely uses a photo with each post. She's parlayed her blog into two books (not even self-published ones). So I guess my point is, take that advice with a grain of salt.

2. Be authentic. What does that mean? Who even knows. To some, it's throwing the word 'positivity' around like it's confetti. To others, it's not using too many Instagram filters. How about you write about what you want to write about and call it a day.

3. Keep a strict schedule. Look, if you created your blog solely to build an empire, then.. a) good luck with that and b) yeah, you'll have to hustle. But if you started it for fun, then don't try to force blog posts. At least post once a week so people remember you exist, but if you're not feeling it one night, then just walk away from your computer. No one is waiting on tenterhooks for your blog post. The world (and your blog) will continue even if you neglect to write a post one day of the week.

4. Use [insert media platform here] to promote your blog. If you're not into it, then you're not into it. Don't get an Instagram account because some blogger with 5,000 followers told you to. I am so fucking sick of hearing about using Pinterest. I hate Pinterest.


1. You don't understand why that sponsored blog post on a mundane household item has 60+ comments and you can barely get five. No one thought their post was brilliant but several people still thought it was worth sucking up to. Do you want to be that person who acts like the sponsored post was brilliant? You decide.

2. You don't give a fuck about maximizing your blog readership but would rather just write and see what happens.

3. You still commented on a blog post that you thought sucked because you wanted to suck up to a specific blogger. I'm totally a hypocrite. I wouldn't pretend otherwise.

4, You pretend to be more interested in something than you really are just to comment on someone's blog post. Sometimes you just want to connect with another blogger, and when you're still new at it, you're going to try harder to create a connection because you don't know anyone.

5. You don't get why another blogger is so popular. I said my last post not to compare yourself, but of course you're going to. You can either be bitter about it or you can move on.


1. When you get followers and you're not even part of a giveaway.

2. When you get regular commenters and they get your humor/personality.

3. When you meet people like Kate, Marielle, Nicole, this Kate, Natalie, Helene, Lix, Emma and so many more. (I'd mention Crystal, but I've known that dumb bitch since college.)


Feel like you haven't gotten enough likes on your tweets/etc? Just mention Katy Perry. Her fanboys/girls work fast. Every tweet I've ever made about her (loving ones, of course) have been favorited/retweeted within two seconds of being published.

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Dear Hollywood, please stop with this shit


Look, Hollywood. You're great. You created Deep Blue Sea and cast Jessie Spano in Show Girls, one of the greatest movies of the 90s. For that I'll always love you.

But after binging on Netflix, I'm kind of sour on you. I think you know why. But if not, I guess I can spell it out.

1. Stop with the 'love at first sight' bullshit. It's not romantic. It's lazy and boring. The best part of falling in love is the process of falling in love. Just because Shakespeare did it, doesn't mean you can too.

2. It's not actually a rule that you have to divide an adaptation of a book into more parts than it was written. (In other words: Are you serious-- I have to see another fucking Hobbit movie with my boyfriend?)

3. You keep giving Olivia Wilde shitty roles. She's a goddamn goddess and she deserves better.

4. Stop trying to make Spiderman happen. It's not going to happen.

5. It's not right that there isn't a Romy and Michelle's 2. Did they ever pay Sandy back? People need to know.

6. I know it's convenient that man parts are below the waist during sex scenes but it's some bullshit when you lovingly feature an actress's breasts and then conveniently work around the guy's bits. It's called equal representation of nudie parts and one day it'll be in the Constitution.

7. Stop trying to convince me Woody Allen is brilliant. I don't give a fuck about Woody Allen. And I really don't give a fuck about his female characters you desperately want me to fall all over myself for.

8. I don't really understand why Syfy movies aren't being considered for Oscars. Look, I'm not trying to nominate Sharknado but Supergator was goddamn gold and you know it.

9. It's not actually cheeky to wink about the sexist representation of women in movies while solidifying the sexist representation of women in movies. Yes, Seven Psychopaths, that was a passive-aggressive reference to you.

10. Stop hooking characters up and then switch them around and have the characters act like there are no hard feelings. People get weird when genitals are involved. Everyone knows that. No, your fiance is not going to want to attend your wedding to the guy you left him for.

11. Nicholas Sparks books don't make good movies. The only exception is The Notebook and that's only because of Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. And Rachel McAdam's creepy mother who liked to drive to construction sites to stare at the workers.

12. Tangled and Frozen are tied for best movie ever. My 5-year-old niece knows this and I know this. I guess I don't actually have a complaint for this one, except maybe keep making these kind of movies and maybe we'll be cool.

13. Having a woman be 'sassy' doesn't make her interesting or strong.

14. Having a woman be 'sassy' doesn't make her interesting or strong. Oh shit, did I just repeat that?

15. Poor people don't live in apartments with character. Your charmingly bohemian apartment is a goddamn lie and nothing else.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Little insecurities

I'm not generally a jealous person.

I don't hate people because they're prettier than me. I don't stop my boyfriend from talking about all of his exes. I've never made a habit of belittling my friends' accomplishments because their successes threaten me.

But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't profoundly jealous of rich people. 

And I don't mean rich as in a nice house in suburbia with a couple of cars, but money. Families who can trace generations of wealth. Those people the writers at Vogue adoringly profile.

My jealousy tends to manifests itself in bitter ways. I consciously hate-read pieces written from and about socialites. I mock publications like Vogue any chance I get. Or I gladly think to myself, "oh well that explains it," when I find out a particularly successful person comes from an old family. 

It's not that I think a person is suddenly less talented with the knowledge that they're wealthy, it's just that it makes their successes easier to stomach. Which is unfair. It suggests they didn't have to work hard to get where they are and the reality is, I don't know their lives. 

But it makes me feel better to think that their successes were greatly supported by their wealth, because I can tell myself if only. If only I had those connections. If only I could pursue exactly what I want to because paying the bills isn't a concern.

It's complacency at its best. 

But the thing is, I'm sick of being asked to admire the great style of a rich girl. I'm sick of being asked to think the eccentricities of a socialite are so charming and hilarious. I'm not going to list Olivia fucking Palermo as a style influence or marvel at the amazing taste shown by Lauren Santo Domingo in her 8,000-square-foot townhouse. 

I don't think it's cute if a socialite wears a $5,000 Balenciaga jacket with a $15 v-neck from Target. Or if they can't remember the last time they did their own hair. 

I don't want to marvel at the career of someone who came from multi-millions, if not more.

When I was fresh out of high school, I moved to New York to attend FIT. I wanted to be in the fashion world and become one of those glamorous ladies you see in the magazines. And then the insecurities of it all, at 18, crushed me. 

I was intimidated by the girls who dressed better than me at the same time that I began to believe fashion was a frivolous pursuit all thanks to my insecurities that I wasn't going to NYU or Columbia. 

So I left. 

Now, of course, I wonder what it would be like if I'd stayed. I wonder where my life would be. What I'd be doing, who'd I know. 

When I read articles about socialites and their fabulous lives in the city, I feel a pang in my heart like it's something I gave up on. Maybe that adds to the bitterness. The rational part of me knows that kind of lifestyle was never in the cards for me, but just being in New York made it seem like it was a possibility. 

But then I left and that possibility is gone. It's hard to reconcile sometimes. When your ambition outweighs your drive. Which I guess is what this all comes down to--that I didn't try harder. So when I read about people that I perceive didn't have to try as hard, it's all compounded. 

It's silly. I shouldn't care about whatever rich lady Vogue is trying to make happen. I shouldn't roll my eyes at a rich blogger who's always dressed impossibly well or the 22-year-old from an old family who already has a book deal. But I do. 

I'm not particularly proud of it, but, the thing is, I also don't feel especially bad about it either. Maybe I can determine to make a New Year's resolution or something. People always stick to those, right?

Friday, September 12, 2014

Oh look, a tag post

This guy's excited. Full disclosure: Found this screenshot in my saved pictures, which means it was pretty important at some point in my life.

Alternate title for the post: Let me talk about myself a lot. It's cute when I at least acknowledge it, right? It's all because recently Kate at Thoroughly Modern tagged me in the Liebster Awards business and, not so recently, Misha K. from her namesake blog tagged me as well.

It's Friday, I'm burnt out from the week and someone's providing me with an easy blog post? Okay, yeah, let's do this.

I'm supposed to share 11 facts about myself, but that seems excessive, so I'll cap it at five. Hold on to your seats.

1. I once tried to pee in the mountains in a secluded spot during a hike and when I was done, I turned around and two people were staring at me. I don't know how much they saw. I didn't ask.

2. I only like shrimp when it's doused in cocktail sauce or a lemon-butter pasta sauce. Anything else, no fucking thanks.

3. I want to be a celebrity so someone will make gifs of all the bitchfaces I'd make at an awards show.

4. I secretly get really possessive/hateful when something I like becomes really popular but I don't admit it because I don't want to be that person.

5. I fucking hate Grey's Anatomy, Nicholas Sparks and that stupid, uplifting viral post you just shared on Facebook.

There, I feel like those are the most important things about me. Let's get onto the questions. I did this post because Kate's and Misha's were just SO GOOD. 

Name three books that have inspired you. 

1) Slammerkin. The heroine was such a terrible person and I loved it. 2) Anna Karenina. Read it for a class and skimmed over some of the chapters (shut up), but some of the prose in that book is so goddamn beautiful it hurts. 3) Anything by Ann Rinaldi. Tween girls who like history: READ HER.

Which celebrity would you like to crawl under a rock and disappear? Please be creative and refrain from using a Kardashian. 

I guess it also wouldn't be creative to say Justin Bieber, so I'll say Kelly Osbourne. I don't know if it's her fucking lavender hair (it's not, I love her hair) or how she doesn't shut up about her beef with Xtina, but there's a lot of dislike there.

If you could live in another decade, which would it be, and why? 

30s. THE GLAMOUR. The fashion. I want to pluck all my eyebrow hairs out just so I can draw them on.

Share one song that speaks to your soul. 

All Too Well by Taylor Swift. Won't even apologize for how much I love screeching, "Maybe we got lost in translation, Maybe I asked for too much..."

If you could eat one thing everyday, and not have to worry about weight gain, heart disease, or diabetes, what would it be? 

Roasted kale. By a landslide.

What is the number one place on your travel bucket list?


What do you think is the most underrated movie of all time?

Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion. No flying fucks are given whether you agree or not.

What is the go-to drink that you order when you're trying to look sophisticated? 

A martini. I keep trying to force it, but it's not working. I hate martinis. 

If a store/designer offered you free merchandise for a year, which store would you want it to be?

Target. Not even going to name a designer. Target has everything I need.

Have you every played an instrument?

Yes! The flute (I sucked) and the piano (I was okay). I can still play Star Wars on the piano. It's my party trick. 

What is your go-to karaoke song choice?


What's your guilty pleasure?

Writing blog posts solely about myself?

If you could choose to stay a certain age forever, what would it be and why?

22. You can legally drink in the states but you're young and you think life is full of possibilities. And no one side eyes drinking too much. God, did I just reference drinking twice?

What is your idea of the perfect day?

Waking up at 9 a.m., going to brunch with my boyfriend, watching a couple of hours of Real Housewives with my sister, sitting out in the sun with a drink and friends and eating roasted kale.

Would you rather have extremely long ear hair that hangs out or a unibrow? Both are very obvious, permanent and cannot be shaved/waxed/etc.

Ear hair? I could at least try to hide it with my head hair.

What is your favourite quote?

"You think I'm crazy, I've got your crazy."--Britney Spears.

What would you change your first name to if you could?

Vesper. Definitely Vesper. 

If you could have the personality of any fictional character from a TV show, who would it be?

Leslie Knope. God, I'd love to have her passion for anything. 

If you could know the answer to any question, besides “What is the meaning of life?”, what would it be?

I'd love to know the answer to, "Why did Lady Gaga so desperately not want certain court documents to come out?" 

If you were reincarnated as an animal/drink/ice cream flavor, what would it be?

Cat so I could nap all fucking day/A cocktail with X-Rated because it's classy and slutty/Cookie dough because is there really another ice cream flavor outside of that?

Favourite blog post that you have ever read?

Oh lord. No idea. None.

Now, it's my turn to spread the love.

--Marielle from This Flooded Sky.
--Kiersten from She is Fierce.
--Elizabeth from Nom Elizabeth.
--Caitlyn from Chem Grad Boom.
--Jamie from SnapGinger.
--Jenn from Business, Life & Design.
--Sarah from Seriously, Sarah?

Sorry if ya'll just did one of these posts. I'm too much of a lazy asshole to check.

Here are my questions:

1. F/M/K: Robin Thicke, Iggy Azalea, Woody Allen.

2. Celine Dion or Mariah Carey?

3. What is your stance on the great pie vs cake debate?

4. What song do you secretly love that you pretend to hate?

5. What is one of the happiest memories you have?

6. Which side do you fall on in the Katy Perry/Taylor Swift blood feud?

7. If you could recreate a romance from any movie, which would it be?

8. What is a dealbreaker quality in another person that would prevent you from being friends with them?

9. Do you still want to be what you did when you were 13?

10. Would you rather appear on Fear Factor or The Bachelor?

11. What is your favorite topic to write about?

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

The best make-up advice I've ever received

Can we just spend some time talking about beauty products? Because sometimes that's all I want to do. I can't actually do anything cool with make-up or else I'd have my own Youtube channel, but we can't all be winners.

Won't even lie, though--sometimes when I'm alone in the bathroom, I pretend I'm doing a tutorial and I think of the advice I'd give. (And then I remind myself that my boyfriend's sleeping in the next room and he might think it's weird if he hears me talk-whispering to myself about my eyeliner technique.)


I don't actually use setting powders to go back over my entire face after my foundation is on because I don't subscribe to the theory that you should put five layers of shit on your face every day, but setting powders are a godsend for keeping your winged liner in place.

Or any heavy liner. Brush some under your eye and right above your crease (i.e. the point on your eyelid where eyeliner tends to travel) and you can stop that nonsense in its tracks.


If you haven't tried to use a make-up brush to apply make-up, you need to buy a crease brush stat. They will absolutely change the way you do your eye make-up. Does that sound dramatic? Well it's supposed to be. That's how amazing crease brushes are.

If you've wondered how some people get their eye make-up to have so much depth and that perfect gradual shading, it's the result of a crease brush. Unless they have magic fingers.


I'm always second-guessing whether I'm wearing too much blush or not so applying it to the cheekbones while sucking in--not smiling--really helps keep it from looking clownish.


If you don't think you're good at applying eyeliner but you've only tried pencil or liquid liners, you need to buy an angled brush and some cake, cream or gel eyeliner. The brush will allow for way more precision than a pencil and the color will go on dark from the get-go, which sometimes isn't the case with cheaper eyeliner pencils.

The Make-Up Store makes my favorite cake eyeliner ever. It goes on dark, stays in place and doesn't dry out during the day and get flaky like gel and cream liners sometimes do.


The most important thing about eye primers is that they help to make your eyeshadow stay on way longer than without them. And on top of that, they'll stop the shadow from creasing. OH AND ANOTHER THING: They're good at bringing out the true color of your eyeshadow, so you get more pigment.

You don't want to put them on too thick though and you'll need to give it a chance to settle into your skin or else the eyeshadow might not blend as nicely.


I feel like putting mascara on your bottom lashes was a HUGE NO-NO when I was in high school, but now I'm thinking it was simply discouraged because no one knew what the fuck they were doing. (And we all know when done improperly, it looks like spidery shit.)

But I've found--especially when doing a bright-eye, simple look--that putting mascara on the bottom lashes can really nicely emphasize your eyes. Sometimes when I feel like I've used too heavy a hand, I just take a damp q-tip and run it under the lashes, which works to break them up and get rid of excess mascara. 


I didn't actually know this was a thing until someone in the comments section of a blog I read mentioned it, but apparently to get the extra dewy look, some make-up artists mix illuminator with foundation. I'm so into dewy finishes that I'd rather my face look greasy than matte, so this is pretty much my favorite, new piece of advice.

Haven't really perfected it yet, but it's a dream I have.


You know when you have a favorite flavor of something, and you decide to be adventurous and go for something new and then you regret not just going for your old stand-by? That's how I feel whenever I don't do a cat-eye.

Don't feel bad if you have to tug at your eye to do it. I've been doing this look for a good two years and I'm just now getting to the point where I can get a good angle without pulling at my eye.

The look takes practice, but Chloe Morello has a good tutorial for beginners:

Now it's your turn to tell me your best make-up advice. GO.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Oh come on, weddings aren't that bad

Everyone has that acquaintance who hates weddings, and they don't just hate weddings, they despise them so much it's imperative they tell you any chance they get that weddings are boring and awful and oh god, they'd like to be anywhere else but a wedding.

They're probably the same people who repeat ad nauseam that they hate kids as if that's actually an interesting fact to share about yourself. In fact, they're so vocal about it, it makes you wonder if they're actually on to something or if they just really like being a caricature. And you know, I'm going to put my money on the latter.

You don't have to have a certain type of personality or be a romantic to like weddings. You just have to be a person who likes to drink on someone else's dime. So if you think you hate weddings, just consider these things.

1. You are able to drink on someone else's dime. Did I already say that? Even if it's not an open bar, chances are they'll keep the beer and wine flowing (for free). Unless it's a dry wedding, and then I take back everything I've said and I hate weddings too.

2. You can dance and not even have to pretend like you dance well because nobody dances well at weddings. Shake your ass to Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" with abandon, no one's judging. 

3. It's called free food, from appetizers to dessert. Even if you have to pick off an inch of fondant to get to the actual cake.

4. Okay, it's not actually totally free because you have to bring a gift, and not just a gift, but a gift from the wedding registry or else you're a total asshole. But-- if the couple's taste is too expensive you can always just go off-brand and get the cheap version of whatever they asked for. It can serve as a reminder to them that maybe they shouldn't depend on their loved ones to supply that $500 espresso machine Gwyneth Paltrow told them they needed and that maybe they should've asked for gifts people could goddamn afford in the first place. 

5. Don't act like you don't enjoy judging the choices of others. Damn straight I want to see what dress the bride picked and what atrocities she made her bridesmaids wear. 

6. But, hey, it's fun to be inspired too. I like admiring the pretty flowers and cute touches, and you don't even have to put down $6 for Martha Stewart Weddings for the inspiration. 

7. It's called filling that hole in your heart that's been empty ever since you didn't go to prom with fake eyelashes and the kind of tacky dresses you could only get away with wearing to a wedding (or, heh, prom). 

8. I guess it's also about celebrating the union of two people you love. There's that too.

9. But you know, if you don't actually love them, it's mostly about looking hot in a hot dress or suit just to remind people you're hot. Specifically, maybe, that person you slept with who was a total idiot, but I mean, you'd still like to have the upper hand.

10. Maybe, most importantly, though, you can take your shoes off in the middle of the night and no one will care. Or try to steal them. 

Monday, September 8, 2014

Passing on (or why I don't write about personal things)

Yesterday, we took my family dog, a 17-year-old Yorkie named Rollie, to the urgent care animal hospital to be euthanized. His health greatly deteriorated in the past month and he wasn't in a good place. He could barely see, he had no appetite and his kidneys were all but failing him.

It came down to the decision that he could either further deteriorate and eventually succumb or we could do the humane thing and let him go.

I want to write an eloquent post about it, but I'm not going to.

I want to write an eloquent post about death, but that's not happening either.

I've never been the type to want to talk about hard things. It happened and it's done, and I'm upset, but I don't actually want to talk about it. The reality is, I don't want to turn what happened into a blog post that tries to teach some kind of a lesson or, even worse, expounds on the nature of life and how everything happens for a reason.

I want to hoard the experience and keep it to myself and feel the pain I'm feeling without sharing it with anyone else. If I thought there was some grand truth I could share with you guys, I would. But there's not.

My half-brother died a few months ago. It was a motorcycle accident and I actually thought he was safe from another accident after a close call last year when he crashed and fell into a large puddle and would have drowned if not for strangers who pulled him out.

He didn't die for me to write a blog post about how you never know what's going to happen and you should live each day to the fullest.

I hate how everything has to be a lesson. I hate how every shitty thing that happens has to be related back to the people who didn't even directly experience the shit, but the people who were left behind, the people who like to reason that the hardship makes them a better person.

Not everything has to have a moral. Things can just happen and exist. They can just be.

I remember once reading about a girl who took her family's Porsche and drove it too fast and crashed into a concrete wall and died. Her wreck scene images, which were apparently horrific, became viral after a cop on the scene (or so I read) spread the photos to his relatives as a "warning."

You know what? She didn't die for this cop's relatives to learn about shit. He wanted to spread smut, so he did, and he wrapped it up with a bow like he was actually accomplishing something.

Some things are bigger than a blog post, and not sharing them doesn't make you less "authentic." There's nothing wrong with using a blog like a diary, but there's also nothing wrong with choosing not to. 

Thursday, September 4, 2014

The f-word and everyday sexism

Oh hey, it's mine and Beyoncé's favorite topic: feminism. Let's talk about it. I'm joining Marielle from This Flooded Sky and Kiersten from She is Fierce for their monthly F-Word link-up and this month's prompt is:

What kind of sexism have you experienced in your everyday life?

So glad you asked. The thing about sexism is that it's so insidious in our daily lives it's easy to participate in it for years without even realizing it--something I basically did all throughout high school.

If you're not a feminist then you might be wondering why it even matters if you don't know that sexism is occurring. As in, what's the problem? But the second you become aware of how much bullshit permeates our society, it's pretty hard to ignore/not want to change. 

Some people never become aware of the bullshit, and I like to call that willful ignorance. But have you ever stopped to just think about the words we use and the stereotypes we take for granted? 

I feel like I'm constantly going on about all the "don't be a pussy/bitch/little girl" phrases so many so dearly love to use, but it boggles my mind that such terminology--coupled with the male-centric phrases we use to describe someone we're impressed with--isn't indicative that our society is, at some level, sexist.


Several guys I used to know would throw the word pussy around as an insult and every time I'd call them on it, they'd just roll their eyes like feminazi, please, it's just a phrase.

Just a phrase? The fuck does that even mean? How do people think language works? That it just randomly forms through some mysterious process no one knows about and is not actually influenced by anything?

These phrases are based off the well-established (sexist) belief that men are strong and powerful while women are fragile and weak. How is that not fucking obvious? 

So I guess what I'm getting at is that my experience with sexism often comes back to the language we use everyday, that we then try to deny is rooted in any sexism at all. Friend, don't insult someone by suggesting they're a woman and then tell me it's all jokes. 

Here are other examples of sexism I see daily:

--Men being shamed for having emotions other than anger. Oh, what, a feminist actually cares about how sexism affects men? Shit, it's almost like I'm an actual feminist and not Fox News' definition of one.

--When my guy friends make that stupid meow sound to indicate bitches be fighting. Obviously no girls really like each other or get along and we're all frenemies. Hear that, Marielle? I secretly hate you and want you to fail. 

--When a woman's not very nice and someone insinuates she needs to get laid. Not everything is about the penis, okay?

--When a guy friend called me a tease because I didn't like him back. Sure, women tell their friends a guy's a jerk when he doesn't like the friend back, but tease is specifically reserved for women. It's the mark of a woman who dared to smile and laugh at something a guy said once in the night. 

--It's when the guy behind me at a college football game heckled an opposing player by suggesting he get his Vagisil. I laughed, because sometimes living in this society means I have to turn my feminism off. Even when it goes against what I've proclaimed to be important.

--It's being subjected to comments about my looks by strangers in a way men simply aren't.

--Or watching yet another movie where the leading actress takes off her shirt or parades around in underwear and the leading man is only required to smile and look good in a suit. 

--Oh wait, it's the notion that men are visual and women aren't and that's why naked women are everywhere. 

--It's when men are called "whipped" because they actually respect their girlfriends. 

--It's when men are called homophobic slurs because they don't have "typical" male interests.

--When women are called "butch" because they don't adhere to gender norms. 

--It's a news report that can't fathom how two boys' lives have been ruined by a guilty verdict in the rape trial of a teen-aged girl who had explicit photos of her sexual assault spread online. 

--It's watching the naked images of ex-girlfriends and female celebrities spread all over the internet with the justification that anyone dumb/slutty enough to take naked pictures deserves what's coming. 

--It's reading those justifications on the pretense that male celebrities would be treated the same way if they had nudie pics but knowing no one is as scared of male sexuality as they are of female sexuality. 

--It's actual goddamn news reports on which actress is going to take her clothes off next for a role. Huffington Post, I am so looking at you, you piece of shit. (Wow, who knew I hated HuffPost so much?)

--It's two hours writing a blog post on sexism and only scratching the surface.

Ugh, come on Beyoncé. Let's go home.

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Let's talk about naked photos

(view story)

What a shock. An asshole hacked into the accounts of several celebrities (all women, of course) and leaked their nude photos. While I don't doubt that Buzzfeed's Anne Helen Petersen is correct and the leak won't affect how the general public views Jennifer Lawrence, that doesn't change that she had her privacy grossly violated.

Even if the majority of people on earth sympathize with Lawrence, it still won't delete the private photos that are now all over the internet for every gross dipshit to pass along to their friends. And not simply pass along, but justify passing along as if Lawrence were the one at fault for the leak.

And that's what really gets me. That Lawrence is basically at fault because she had the gall to take a naked photo.

I guess the logic is that she should've known her nudie pics were a hot commodity so if she didn't want them leaked all over the internet, she should've kept her goddamn clothes on. But here's the thing, we participate in activities every day that have an inherent risk, whether you're getting in your car to drive to work or simply lighting a candle in your apartment.

Jennifer Lawrence doesn't have to explain why she took the pictures of herself, and the fact that they exist and that she might be more at risk of a leak than the average person, doesn't mean she's therefore inviting the world to look at her naked.

Participating in something that has risk involved is called fucking living. Everyone does it every single day.

If you want to gawk at the photos, go gawk at them, but don't act like you're doing anything but participating in her invasion of privacy.

Let's also stop pretending that her being famous makes it more okay to look at the photos. We get that we don't actually own famous people, right? We aren't entitled to every bit of them just because they get paid a lot and are in the public eye.

What's more, it doesn't matter if you personally think naked photos shouldn't be such a big deal--Jennifer Lawrence and all of the other women involved did not give consent to the release of these photos. They don't want you to view them. So shouldn't that make us feel pretty gross for passing them around?

And if you're still oh-so confused about why someone might take a naked photo--who the fuck cares? Why does anybody do anything? Maybe they send their boyfriend/girlfriend a daily boob shot. Maybe they want to create a photo album of themselves naked. Maybe they're in a long-distance relationship and that's how they keep it exciting. What does it matter?

If you don't want to do it, don't do it. And if you think it's slutty, then clutch your pearls. But women (and men) should be allowed to take naked photos of themselves and choose who gets to see them without the threat that someone is going to hack into their private data and disseminate the images all over the internet. Fuck, does that really need to be said?