You Talkin’ Smack?!

Bambi is unquestionably not my favorite Disney movie. Although it is pretty adorable- Bambi as a little deer learning to walk and flailing around on the ice, how Thumper as a baby bunny talks, Flower the little skunk…the cuteness factor is off the charts. Let’s just conveniently, for the sake of my point, forget about the mean hunters who leave poor Bambi an orphan and start a forest fire. However, I digress, for this post was not intended to be about animated children’s movies. Back to my point. Bambi offers one valuable life lesson said from little Thumper himself: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.”

Now I will be the first to admit that I gossip. There I said it. Thumper would be so disappointed. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I don’t talk about hot topics that are currently spreading like wildfire throughout my group of friends or family. What…someone is preggers? What…someone cheated on so and so? What…someone bitch slapped so and so? Before I go much further though, let me be clear: my friends are fantastic They each bring something unique into my world and I am blessed to call them mine. But when somebody does something that causes me to scratch my head and think “whaaaaaaat?”, I’m gonna unapologetically talk about it.

So as I was reading a monthly advice column in Glamour written by Bethany Frankel (yes, Bethany Frankel has an advice column. Why? I have no idea.) about this exact topic it got me thinking why we gossip. She claims it’s because it’s in our nature as women and we use it to bond. She also says we use it as a way to make ourselves feel better. Her exact words “What you say negatively about others is what you don’t like about yourself.” Now, to some degree, I believe this has some truth to it. I realize that my gossiping ability is probably not my most favorable trait. But I don’t agree with all of her comment. Let’s role-play.

Example: Joan (made up friend; I don’t even know a Joan) has a wonderful boyfriend, Ned (again, made up friend, although I wish I did have a friend named Ned). Ned and Joan live together. Ned is at home sleeping soundly in the bed they share while Joan is off sleeping (aka not sleeping) with someone who is NOT Ned. This causes me to say something along the lines of, “She’s an idiot (among other less mild derogatory terms)…yada yada…poor Ned…yada yada….do we tell Ned?”…yada yada…Joan needs to get her shiz together”…etc, etc. Now, me saying this is not because I don’t like something within myself. I say it because my homegirl Joan is a bizzo and isn’t treating good old Ned how he deserves. Poor, poor Ned.

Now, ever wise Bethany then goes on to give this advice when it comes to gossiping:

  1. Gossip only about things that are harmless and funny and offer you some release.
  2. If you must do the snarky gossip, vent to the one friend you can truly trust. No one else.
  3. When someone goes negative, button up. Be one of those people you admire who bow out when the bashing begins.

Is it helpful advice? Sure. Is it going to change people’s behavior? Probably not. I’m not gonna lie, I’m still going to gossip, but it did make me think about the ever true fact that if someone is gossiping to you, she’ll probably gossip about you. That being said, I’ll try to watch my mouth more from now on, but when Joan acts up again I can’t promise anything.

Until next time…

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A Big Controversy about a Little Pill

It would probably not surprise most of you to discover that I do not make politics a huge priority in my life. I am not married. I have no children. I sadly own nothing of value except my quickly depreciating Chevy Equinox…poor thing doesn’t get the care it deserves. And God knows I am not in the 1%. Because of this, I often naively believe that politics don’t directly impact my life too much. However, the 2012 campaign trail has been loaded with women’s health issues that do directly affect me and my other female homies out there.

As many of you are probably aware, this issue hit the fan when the Susan G. Koman Foundation initially said they were going to withdraw funds from Planned Parenthood (they eventually backed down after having their asses handed to them). Then in February of this year a new firestorm began when five men (three priests, a rabbi, and a doctor…no, this isn’t a bad joke) testified at Capital Hill  saying women should be denied insurance coverage for birth control. O no, they didn’t (picture me zig zag snapping)! On an interesting side note, these men, and the Catholic church, had no such concerns about Viagra. Typical. THEN to make matters worse, a Georgetown University student, Sandra Fluke, who planned to speak in favor of contraceptive use got turned down AND proceeded to be called a slut, a prostitute, and said to have had so much sex she couldn’t walk. All of this from good ol’ Rush Limbaugh. Now, I am not entirely positive, but I’m prrrrrretty sure Rush Limbaugh should be the last person to ever use name-calling and be all judgemental up in here.

Many of you probably knew the majority of the brief history spiel I just gave, as I myself did. However, as I was reading an article about this exact topic in Marie Claire I was surprised to learn that 98% of American women use contraception. This means that this topic effects 98% of my American sisters. My immediate thought was ,”Way to be smart, lady friends!”….followed by “I am woman, hear me roar!” sneaking in there somehow.

I wasn’t silly enough to believe that everyone felt this way for I don’t live in a box, people. However, I was shocked to read the reasons some individuals oppose BC use. For starters, some social conservatives have brought this old classic out of hiding: that having sex without wanting to get pregnant is bad for society. Um….jigga what? I once heard this rumor that even married couples liked to have sex without creating another life. Wouldn’t preventing unwanted pregnancies be a positive thing for society? In fact, for every dollar spent on family planning, the public saves almost four dollars.

On that same note, past presidential hopeful Rick Santorum was quoted saying, “Birth control is a license to do things in the sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be.” I don’t know how things are supposed to be in the sexual realm, but I’m pretty sure birth control does not impact what is supposed to be good sex.

Not surprisingly, many abortion rights opponents have also sounded against contraceptive use claiming that some forms of BC, including the pill, terminate pregnancies. This is in no way true.

Now, I just want to say that I don’t want to use this blog as a forum for making my political opinions known and push them upon other people. Also, this post is not a pro-life or pro-choice debate. It is about an issue that directly affects myself, my body, my health, my partner, and our future. Whatever your stance on the issue, it is clearly not going away anytime soon. This was made evident with Rep. Todd Akin’s recent outrageous comment about “legitimate rape” (don’t even get me started on that one) and President Obama’s reply along the lines that the men in the government should not be making decisions for women’s health. Come November, ladies, it’s time for us to hit the polls and let our opinions on the matter be heard. Whatever they may be.

I just had to end this with this little gem.

Until next time…

A Month of Makeup Update: Day 15

I have officially reached the half-month mark. I must say…it hasn’t been nearly as atrocious as I initially thought. I can’t say that anything drastic or life-changing has occurred to make me think makeup is the answer to my first world problems. However, I have noticed that I mildly feel better about myself when I am awake and in makeup rather than lying around, without brushing my teeth all day long. Surprising, right?! I also feel like I have at least accomplished one thing at the end of the day when I have to wash my face. It’s truly the little things, people.

Also, for those of you wondering with bated breath about how my neck has been since my last Month of Makeup Update…I’m a brand new woman! I was only out of commission for one day.

Until next time…

Excuse Me While I Go to the Bathroom…and Get Divorced.

In a recent Marie Claire I discovered that women in Japan are flocking to an ancient Buddhist temple, known as “the divorce temple” to recover their relationship karma. Do they go there to seek counsel from a wise Buddhist monk on their marriage woes? No. Do they go to meditate in search of answers or revelations to help their marriage? No.

Instead, they flush a piece of paper down a toilet. Yeah, you can go back and read that sentence over again, it’s ok. I wouldnt’ make this stuff up, guys. The women write down their wish to sever their marriage on a piece of paper and then flush it down the john to have their prayers answered.

Now, I must admit, I am not the most religious person that ever walked the Earth. Not surprisingly, I am also certainly not a Buddhist. However, I simply could not understand how these women think this is going to help them. (Granted, if I was in a horrible marriage with a skeezeball, I might resort to doing some pretty wacky stunts out of utter desperation as well. Certainly, if I was married to Tom Cruise. Katie, my girl, you are set free!). So this got my mind a-thinkin’ of what other not so typical divorce practices occur around the world. The findings, though divorce is often sad, are rather comical:

  • For Arab Muslim men, they simply have to gather two witnesses to hear them say, “I divorce thee.” Simple as that. On a disgusting side note, the men are given the children because they are “the man’s property”, the man may remarry as soon as his newly single heart desires while the woman must wait three months to determine if she is pregnant. If so, she must wait until she has delivered the child to remarry. Ugh. Don’t even get me started.
  • Eskimos simply begin to live separately when they decide they can no longer stand one another and desire a divorce. They might be on to something here…
  • Australian Aborigine women simply have to elope to divorce their husband. I prefer to call this the “Fly to Vegas and Leave Your Old News Behind” method. Totally classy and respectful.
  • In Germany, a bishop called for churches to hold “Masses of Lament” in which family and friends gather in a church to hear the divorcing couple explain their reasons for ending their union. Ummmm, can you say awkward? “Kids, we are gathered here today to tell you why mommy and daddy no longer can stand being in the same room together and want to claw each other’s eyes out.” Yikes.
  • And right under our nose in the US, more and more couples are having divorce ceremonies. Much like a wedding except they renounce their vows. Ok, so the exact opposite of a wedding. Some couples are even resorting to divorce parties. This is just bizarre to me. I’m trying to picture my parents having a divorce party when I was 12 and they separated. “Hi! Welcome to the party! Presents go over there; Dad’s pile is on the left, Mom’s is on the right. My dad is a pig. Thanks for coming!”

Until next time…

A Month of Makeup Update: Day 2

Well folks, I lay sprawled here on my ma’s living room floor with a bag of frozen edamame propped against my neck. How did I do something whack to my neck you may ask? I was simultaneously doing two of the things I do best: laying down on my bed and reaching for my laptop. I was brought to the chiropractor against my will (no joke) where I was physically assaulted and heard bones crack that I didn’t even know existed. How this helps my current handicap I have yet to find out. As another plus to the whole experience, he asked me why I was home in the middle of the day which resulted in me having to mumble that I was unemployed and living with my mother. I wanted to tell him to shut up and do what he’s paid for but I figured that probably wouldn’t help my situation. When I finally made my way back to the car (which took me longer than the geriatric gentleman using a walker along side me) I looked at myself in the mirror and appeared as though I just woke up from a marathon night of drinking, followed by puking, and the requisite ponytail on the side of my head. I assure you, it was not a pretty sight.

So with that being said, I have not put a single drop of makeup on and have no plan to do so for the rest of the day. I am also in dire need of a shower but can’t lift my hands above my shoulders so that pretty much speaks for itself right there. I had to have my sister put my hair in a ponytail (which failed miserably and resulted in her yelling at me) soooooo I used my better judgement to not ask her to also put makeup on my pained face. I will resume my month as soon as I can stand up from the toilet without crying out in pain. True story, guys.

Until next time…

A Month of Makeup

After watching the most recent season of “The Bachelorette” I am convinced that God, for reasons I am not yet aware of, blesses some women with looks that allow them to wake up in the morning looking like they just stepped off of a photo shoot. I imagine Emily Maynard, the aforementioned Bachelorette, to wake up every morning with a halo of sun around her perfectly groomed blonde locks, her skin looking so flawless that it appears as though she walks around with a Photoshop screen in front of her face, and a chorus of angels singing “hallelujah” as she stretches her tiny little body. (Of course the veneers, nose job, and breast enlargement doesn’t hurt either, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Emily Maynard

I, on the other hand, am not so lucky. There are many-a-mornings when I wake up and want to moan in horror at the appearance that is terrifyingly reflected back at me in the mirror. Those who boldly go out with me in public when I’m sans makeup deserve serious praise and acknowledgement (when they aren’t hiding behind a shelf or counter to appear as though they surely cannot be with me. Ok, so I exaggerate. Kinda.). Some days, I just find it simply daunting to attempt to mold the canvas that is my face into something more beautiful. Unfortunately, even after I slap on a fresh coat of makeup, (which I assure you, rarely happens; especially when unemployed) I find the after not looking too different from the before image.

Which led me to literally say out loud, “O crap.” while reading a recent study conducted at Harvard and funded by P&G in Elle. In a nutshell, the researchers studied individuals’ reactions to women who were barefaced and those in varying levels of makeup and found that those wearing makeup were more likely to be perceived as amiable, trustworthy, and competent. And women who opted for a more glamorous look were perceived as more competent than women who prefered a more natural look. Essentially, other people see you differently when you are wearing makeup.

So what does this mean? I’ll tell ya what it means. It means I’m screwed. The most glamorous I get is applying an extra coat of mascara. I want to know, personally, if makeup really does work and if other people really will see me differently so I am going to wear makeup every single day for a month. I am going to put it on even if I am simply going to the gas station for a fresh bag of beef Jerkey. Even if I am just going to lounge around with my manfriend and be a slob. Even if it kills me..and it just might. I will update you throughout the month on any breaking revelations I encounter along the way, as well as post new blogs as well. Stay tuned folks.

I decided to end this blog with some less than appealing pics of celebrities without makeup. Until next time…