Lena Chen was also quoted in the piece saying “The culture reacts differently when women make the same decisions men do.” I’d like to know why, whose fault it is, and how to fix it.
Lena Chen was also quoted in the piece saying “The culture reacts differently when women make the same decisions men do.” I’d like to know why, whose fault it is, and how to fix it.
- Coworker #1: Hello.
- Coworker #2: Hi, how are you?
- Coworker #1: Um, I'm good. How are you?
- Coworker #2: [jokingly] Just miserable.
- Coworker #1: Oh. [pause] I'm sorry.
- Coworker #2: I'm just joking!
- Coworker #1: Oh. [pause] Haha.
This morning I was wandering around the apartment in my tall boots and undies (boots on first today b/c it was cold) getting ready for work and I looked in the full-length mirror and thought “I’m too sexy for my clothes, too sexy for my job, I’m too, too sexy. Ashley Alexandra Dupre ain’t got nothin’ on me, honey.” (Well, maybe a cup size but whatever.) Then I threw on my dress, had some breakfast, threw on a coat and traipsed to work through icky drizzle that made this morning one of those mornings when you should just stay in bed. And when I got to work, I sat in my chair and broke it. Hm. Must be Monday.
Plucked from the comments section of my last column; add that shit to the Hate Mail Greatest Hits Collection. Jeez. (via jennabrom)
Don’t you just love the mentality that women “use themselves up” by sleeping with men? As if we’re of a limited quality and somehow damaged goods for enjoying our sexuality?
Double standard strikes again. Most girls I know don’t care or don’t want to know about their guy’s history. Girls, on the other hand, don’t have the freedom to do whomever they choose without some sort of backlash in the future. Not that I advocate having numerous sexual partners; I just don’t think women should be held to higher standards.
If a person means enough to you, you won’t be afraid to commit. Being afraid of commitment is also code for not being sure you want to be with that person, for worrying that you won’t be able to do any better, for being scared to make yourself vulnerable, for wanting to leave your options open by staying on the market, and/or for not being mature enough to admit you can be happy with that one person, that you want to be happy with just that one person. It could be “fear or commitment,” but it’s more likely fear of putting yourself out there or unwillingness to be with that person.
Turning off the alarm before my feet actually hit the floor is NEVER a good idea. Never.
Decided to let you experience the 5 stages of grief with me! Lucky you! Let’s catch you up.
Stage 1: Denial
- boyfriend doesn’t talk to you for 3 days
- boyfriend tells you he needs space for a week
- mutual friends seem hesitant to tell you what’s wrong
- mutual friends don’t join the party wagon when you do a victory dance that boyfriend starts talking to you again
- STILL CONVINCE YOURSELF YOU WILL MOVE TO EUROPE, GET MARRIED, AND HAVE A PUPPY = you are a MORON.
Stage 2: Anger
Stage 3: Bargaining
- scream and yell while being dumped
- send hateful facebook message demanding that relationship status be changed IMMEDIATELY
- vow to Lena that you will have revenge sex with Tobit at the first available moment
- secretly hope all of your mutual friends will start hating him on your behalf.
Stage 4: Depression
- ask if there’s any point in fighting for boyfriend. be told no.
- mention vague things about working on the relationship
- ask why you weren’t informed earlier of apparently ailing relationship
Stage 4.5: Revisiting Anger
- sob in sister’s arms
- cry yourself to sleep in the middle of the afternoon
- go out drinking, then drunkenly recount the tale of how your boyfriend doesn’t love you or want you anymore because you’re depressed, medicated, and broken to the men who work in Gino’s Döner.
Stage 5: Acceptance
- decide to follow stages of grief in inappropriately public forum, such as a blog named Duckie Does Deutschland.
- start listening to and identifying with Chris Brown’s “Say Goodbye” instead of wishing that ex-boyfriend will develop suspicious horrible rash or fall down manhole.
- realize that ex-boyfriend was also BEST friend and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to still be friends. if not the best of.
- decide to buy your own damn puppy.
Awwww, this brings back sad memories. Been there (well, my 4.5 and 5 looked a little different but other than that). But everything turns out the way it should, even if it sucks getting it that way! Best of luck…
And they watch to see how high you’re gonna climb
Pat on the back and better luck next time
It ain’t nothin, no it ain’t nothin
But a heartbreak town” —“Heartbreak Town,” Dixie Chicks
while i’m just about (though not completely) over you, i still do sign in when i know i’ve got an email awaiting me or just because i damn well please.
i have noticed a new + not so spectacular feature to add to your many other, well, not so spectacular features: “you may know” on the side of my home page.
listen fb, the majority of people that are listed here are folks that i am quite aware of having profiles + i am Not there “friends” with good reason (i use the term friends quite loosely as one knows i sure as hell don’t truly have 150 or so people in this small world that i consider my friend).
i strongly suggest you get rid of this feature. Now.
if i have to see the boy who i sometimes think i may be mini in love with, the girl who dumped me (just friends, calm down!), or the tool from college who thinks he is cool as shit because he promotes at clubs pop up on my page one more time, i may have to erase my profile altogether.
that is, if you let me.
your not so fond friend,
I was going to rant about this last night! What a great feature this would have been FOUR YEARS AGO when I joined Facebook! If we haven’t friended each other yet, it’s probably on purpose.
I was wondering why I suddenly had a bunch of friend requests when I checked my email this morning!….But I didn’t even notice whatever feature this is when I actually signed in. Apparently, also, several people have friended me in recent months but I missed it. Oops. Yeah, I’m oblivious and yeah, I only go on fbook when I’m looking for something specific and am focused solely on that. Please also note that I did not actually look at any of the friend requests. I signed in, noticed I had a number of them, thought “Huh, look at that,” did not notice whatever new feature makes people find and obviously decide to friend me, and then got bored (yeah in like 4.6 seconds) and signed out. So if you friended me and I didn’t accept your offer of friendship (I feel like I’m describing some complicated nerd game) you’ll know why. The end.
Kurt Vonnegut (via tumblinas)
Guess I need to keep this in mind a little bit more, hmm?
this morning I’m having:
Chocolate cake + can of Coke. A winnar is me!
Eating chocolate cake always reminds me of the scene from Matilda by Roald Dahl where the little boy pilfers some chocolate cake and the evil principal Ms Trunchbull (sic?) makes him eat a gigantic cake in front of the whole school, hoping it will make him sick. But he eats it all and pwns that bitch! HAHAHAHA
OK, maybe my mind is a little wonky. Nevertheless, I hope to raise a future little kid on a surfeit of chocolate cake and children’s lit.
I adore chocolate cake. Especially with ice cream. For breakfast. Which reminds me of the part in the Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood when the mom and kids secretly have birthday cake in the morning of the kids’ bdays, when the dad’s at work, because he says cake for breakfast is a “whore’s breakfast.” Heck yes. And whenever I make a big layer cake with loads of shiny icing (see above) it reminds me of Matilda.
I so deserve to have it be Friday so this week can be over.
I also deserve a Diet Coke Slurpee (do they make these?) or a Frappuccino.
Totally legitimizes all the crying my girlfriends and I do over silly, sometimes unreasonable things. We knew it could be therapeutic but often blamed it on PMS or said it was just a girl thing. Little did we know we were cleansing our mind of all the toxic or sad thoughts, making it totally worth the smeared eye makeup.
-Spencer’s sister on The Hills (via mascarah)
I did not use to like this chick but pretty much everything she said to him during that conversation was awesome. Nothing like your sister kicking you (very hard, multiple times) when you’re down.
- Wife, screaming: You're so selfish!
- Husband: [pause].....Did you just call me a shellfish?
From The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (via seagull)
Book was a bit much for me when I first read it as a 12 year old but I love the quote. Women’s tears make no mark because many of us cry privately, not because tears are a sign of weakness for us like for guys, but because guys will think we’re crazy and bolt if we bawl in front of them. Sometimes it’s even awkward for me when another girl is crying, even though I act the same way sometimes.
low self esteem is a glaring + ghastly looking quality. a far cry from attractive. it is ugly on it’s best day + it is Painfully obvious.
we All have issues with esteem (Fuck off if you say you don’t!). we All have reason enough to feel uncomfortable, unacceptable, even unworthy.
Brush. It. Off.
+ when you go out into the world, wear Confidence.
i am not suggesting that you pretend to be someone you are not or that you sweep your insecurities under a rug. but no need to represent yourself in a bad light!
+ in due time, when you hold your head to the world, it is Amazing what the world will give back to you + what your inner being will begin to develop.
You are Wonderful.
Yes it is and yes you are. Yay!
I honestly think humans, just as a species, are both sadistic and masochistic. It must just be a common trait of ours - how else can you explain the way we treat others and ourselves? I don’t think we’re really aware of it, or perhaps we just don’t automatically link our feelings and behavior to any inherently S&M tendencies, but that’s what it is. Look at your own life and tell me I’m wrong. Go ahead. Work? Relationships? Can you see where I’m coming from? Would you admit it if you did? Think about it. Happy Tuesday.
If it wasn’t enough that my baby sister is going to prom and learning to drive, I just got info about my high school class reunion. Ugh. If the bills and the full-time job didn’t reinforce the fact that I’m all grown up now, that sure did. I mean, my parents go to high school reunions (from the same high school no less). No date has been set, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it back that weekend. : )
Measles party….sounds like, um, fun… What exactly does one do at a measles party? Are there party games for maximum exposure to the disease? And do they serve snacks?
Until a few months ago, I was totally against it. For years I’d been very cautious about what I put online, what part of me I was okay with sharing, what part of me was worthy, even, for that public domain. I haven’t always been so protective of the image I present, and the few times I let my guard down are usually the times I regret. As it is in rest of my life.
It’s hard to live your life with people watching, and even if you’re not a celebrity, there’s always someone watching. I like sharing myself and my life; connecting to other people is one of the unique aspects of our humanity. But there are key differences in posting things online, differences many people, myself included, forget. You don’t get the whole story online. Like a text message, you get a few lines, kept short to cater to our ever-shortening attention spans; you might get a photo, one little snapshot that might be worth a thousand words but might be a thousand words that don’t say anything. Blogs, text messages, technology in general - they make it easier for us to reach more people anytime, but they limit what we can say.
Because of my job and because of the job(s) I’d like to someday have, it’s essential that I have a web presence, but it’s difficult to balance the person I am, or am becoming, with the person others should see. The web has given me so many opportunities (aka my current job) and could help me find a key contact or get my writing where the right person will see it. It’s a useful tool, but the catch is that I must constantly censor myself, compartmentalize, mold my image into the proper packaging. The only way I can mesh being real and being fictional is to be a little of both at different times. Sometimes I’ll write, or post, or even say things that are completely made-up, so when I have the impulse to post something completely honest and raw, no one else will know just how vulnerable I’ve made myself.
When that’s the mask you hide behind, that some parts are real and some are fake and it’s up to everyone to guess which are which, you open yourself up for interpretation or, more accurately, misinterpretation. When you play games and camouflage your opinions and ideas, it’s nearly impossible for anyone to figure out what you really think or where you really stand. And it’s all in good fun, until someone takes it too seriously.
From Sephora’s e-newsletter:
Quench your thirst for a beauty buzz with FUZE Slenderize Guilt Free Gloss. Infused with the healthy, delicious fruit flavors and appetite curbing energy boasting ingredients found in FUZE Slenderize beverages. One Delicious dab on the lips will give you a taste of what all the Hollywood starlets are losing it over! Always on the lips, never on the hips!
Kiss my ass Sephora.
I personally do love Sephora, and I also love FUZE Slenderize drinks, and I made a special trip to Sephora to purchase the new drink-inspired FUZE Slenderize Lip Gloss. I would not recommend anyone do the same. Smelled good (at first). Didn’t taste like anything. Went on smooth and slick, not sticky. Does not actually promote the wearer’s slenderization (note: I did not buy it for that purpose!) I went away for a weekend, taking with me only a select few lip glosses and the FUZE was not one of them. I came back, applied it, and thought, “Ew.” It smelled gross. Like feet. Or BO. Not like something you want on your lips, right under your nose.
“Does this smell like feet?” I asked the boy.
“Feet?” *sniffs* “That doesn’t smell like feet.”
“Toes? Or socks?” I asked.
*sniffs again* “It smells like something. Chemicals?” *sniffs AGAIN* “I don’t know. Not feet. Definitely not feet.”
“It smells like feet,” I said. And I threw it away.
Moral of the story: Buy the drink at 7-11 for $3 or whatever it is. Do not buy the $18 lip gloss from Sephora.
My officemate is eating chips.
I don’t really like chips. I used to take those mini-bags of Utz to lunch in elementary school but by high school, I’d moved on to unsalted pretzels. And in college I started eating really healthy (weird, I know) - nothing fried, nothing greasy, definitely no chips. Ew.
Occasionally, if they’re served with a sandwich at a restaurant, I’ll have a few and then torture myself looking at those remaining on my plate. If I don’t cover them with a napkin, I’ll eat all of them and feel the grease sitting in my stomach for the remainder of the day as I remorsefully think “It so wasn’t worth it.”
I know they’re bad for me. I know they make me feel bad. So usually I avoid them. But they’re so crunchy! I can’t even see them right now, don’t even know what kind they are, brand, flavor, but I can hear the crunch and right now, I want chips, too.
- Boy says: Games start TOMORROW!
- Girl says: Oh yay.
- Girl thinks: Here we go again.
- Boy says: I caaaaaan't wait!
- Girl says: Mmm.
- Boy says: They start at like 11 and go on allllll day. It's awesome.
- Girl says: Uh-huh.
- Girl thinks: It's not awesome. Please stop talking.
- Boy says: For like three weeks! It's the best!
- Girl says: Yeah.
- Girl thinks: The good thing about nonstop basketball games for three weeks is that maybe he'll be so busy watching them that he'll stop talking nonstop about how awesome it is.
- Boy says: I know, you don't care.
- Girl thinks: Finally.
- Girl says: Are you ready to go to bed now?
Very interesting article.
My question: What if you use your sexual power (or just your sexuality, if sexual power isn’t really power) to get financial power or influence or some other type of “legitimate” power? Doesn’t that transform the sexual (non)power into “real” power that is meaningful in the real world? And in that case, your sexuality would have led you to real power, which is a very powerful thing in itself. That leads me to the differences in male and female sexual power. If men use (or misuse) their sexual power in the workplace, it’s usually to lord it over women (yes, I know that’s a sexist stereotype, sorry) while women use their sexual power to undermine that of men. I certainly think the women who have toppled elected officials simply by sleeping with them possess a certain sexual power. Throughout history, men have been destroyed by women, directly or indirectly by women’s sexual power. I remember reading a young adult novel years ago that told the story of how European men invaded an Indian (Native American?) community and killed all the men and planned to rape the women but, mid-coitus, the women literally stabbed them in the back when they weren’t paying attention. The story might be completely fictional, but I think it represents the women taking back the power the men planned to steal through raping them.
Back on topic, in many cases, I feel like men don’t need to use their sexual power to get ahead “in the real world,” and that women are much more attuned to how much sexual power they’re wielding and in what ways because they have to use every advantage they can.
Hm. I like how thought-provoking this one quote turned out to be.
Because they’re awesome, and because I hate how my tumblr looks from my home laptop. I have a Mac at the office and it looks so much cuter from there!
a character from the book Lamb by Christopher Moore (via seagull)
….Makes it sound so easy….
Something good to keep in mind
…a Big. Soft. Carnival Pretzel. (or auntie anne’s, that would work too)
…a personal trainer.
…a Java Chip Light Frappuccino from Starbucks