There's Refuge in Corners, All My Posessions in Boxes

Moving sucks for many reasons, for me some of the suckiest highlights are

A) My couch not fitting through the door, thus it was trashed
- and -
B) Comcast's inability to pull their heads out of their asses long enough to fix the friggin' internet which comes and goes from my apartment like the wind

I choose to blame my major behindness in writing on these main factors. Having to write in a camping chair, bed, or atop a rubbermaid container is as easy as trying to tackle the task in a moving car...no impossible, just incrediably uncomfortable and distracting.

So why don't I stop bitching and instead catch you up on the real haps, eh? My thoughts are just as scattered as my possessions these days, as I try to gather and organize both, take a gander at some pop culture things I found fascinating or infruiating in the last few weeks:

Movies:

"17 Again" starring Zac Efron and the adorable Matthew Perry (does me thinking Perry is the cuter of the two age me, or make me ambrosial?) looks like your average, my-life-sucks-at-this-age-why-not-try-another-age-via-unnamed-magic fluff movie. But according to community blogger Lauren on Oh No They Didn't it's rotten with sexist absintence only messages. Efron makes impassioned speeches about girls respecting themselves, and preaches that peeps shouldn't sex it up until they are ready to have that baby. Yikes and ewww! Read full post here.

Everyone is still gaga over Star Trek, as they should be, but in the hussle to call it the greatest prequel/summer movie/Star Trek remake everrrrr are we forgetting the women? Melissa over at Women and Hollywood ponders the insignificance of the three main female characters who can be broken down into little more than wife, mother, and girlfriend. Read full post here.

57 Days until Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince...OMFG...the wait is more painful than the Sectumsempra curse. If you haven't seen the full length preview yet, you must now at the official site here. I'm trying to remain cautiously optimistic becuase the last one was so not great, but holy cats, how can I not believe that this looks like the best and most amazing HP yet?! It seems to have everything. I'm surprised how much the preview showed of the end, and gaaaah...drool. I need to stop now.

Television:

Here is a super cute article I found in the New Yorker a couple of weeks ago about Amy Poehler and the unique quality she brings to all of her characters, "cockeyed optimism," they call it. If you feel bad from time to time about the lack of females in comedy (like I tend to) read this piece and savor this line: "...you always felt in good hands during a Poehler skit; unlike some of the other performers—the men of recent years come to mind—she never seemed sloppy or on the verge of being downright awful." I feel a triumphent leap in my heart when I read it, I hope you do too.

Now use that power you harnessed by reading that last bit and try not to reach into cyber space with the intention of strangling Dirk Benedict after you get a gander at this piece titled "Starbuck: Lost in Castration" he wrote about Battlestar Galactica. Benedict played Starbuck in the orginal series, and he's back now to say a whole handful of pro-sexism shit and if you don't like it than tough, he's a cigar chomping, ass grabing man, and that's the way of the/his world. It's unbearable that such backwards talk is being bantied around about such a progressive and important show. Get a snifter of this: "There was a time – I know I was there – when men were men, women were women and sometimes a cigar was just a good smoke. But 40 years of feminism have taken their toll. The war against masculinity has been won. Everything has turned into its opposite, so that what was once flirting and smoking is now sexual harassment and criminal. And everyone is more lonely and miserable as a result. " Le Sigh.

Rabbit Write discusses the controversial Oprah episode that encouraged mom's to buy their daughters' vibrators in order to teach them about self stimulation. While I agree with Rabbit that actually buying the vibrator for your kid is over steping bodily autonomy boundries, I will argue that there is nothing unatural to using tools to get the job done. She posts, "...it would seem that masturbation would be a natural and personal discovery. Isn’t that precisely what it should be? Quick fixes won’t help your teenagers develop positive relationships with their bodies. The beauty of healthy sex cannot be taught by an orgasm machine." Au contraire, a vibrator or any other sex toy is not an unnatural quick fix, it's part of the whole fix. And of course these kinds of toys can teach healthy sex. Healthy sex comes when one understands their own body and what makes them feel good. It's important to learn about yourself in many different ways. Besides, orgasm machine? Really, that's the word choice we're going with? Vibrators only vibrate, the user is in control of the speed, penetration, weight of touch, where it goes, and how much interaction it has in the masturbation process. It's not like those fetish sites where the girl is sumissive to some bizarre contraption. Let's not be over dramatic here.

Okay, it's good to get some of those out of my system. Now, back to posting things on a more regular basis...

I've Been Writing for Another Blog...Jealous?

So I've taken a couple weeks off here to launch a new humor blog with a food focus. It's called What We Eat Is Laughable and 5 of my friends are also contributing to it. There are only a few posts so far, but you can expect (and you will find) product and restaurant reviews, comments on food culture, recipes, how tos, budget meals, cooking videos, entertaining tips, and baking stuff. It will be omnivore, vegetarian, and vegan friendly and will cover a wide range of items so there is something for everyone. Unless you are a serious chef, then perhaps our wackiness may not be your taste - ha! Get it?!!!?? Taste?!!! Food Blog?! Ho-boy, those are the kind of gems you can expect to find on our site. Nothin' but laugh after laugh. Go. Read. Now.

Blatant Self Promotion

So if I haven't called you hollering about how a blog of mine got chosen to be on the front page of Feministing, here's me telling you now. I'm very excited. It's the John Kerry post (see below) and I was hoping for a little more interesting political discourse than I have gotten in the comments so far. So if you've got something to say about Global Feminism go to my Feministing post and say it now. Otherwise I'll just have to continue the flamewar I've got going on with the PUMA who's trolling there. Also, my first blog about ANTM got linked to from one of Jessica's blogs here. It's been a good day.

There's a Lot More to Life Than Being Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking - Part 4

Lunachicks. Rilo Kiley. The Distillers. M.I.A. We drove and we sang. Gut splitting yells of strength. Howls of anger and love. We recounted their nights of sex along with them, and we shook out our perfectly primped hairdos to their playful lyrics. We were all girls on a joyride to laugh in the face of mediocrity, mainstream beauty, and material bullshit. Self-assured that we were pumped with enough self-esteem to wipe out our less lionhearted competition, we chattered on about our new not-so-secret hope to become a finalist for America's Next Top Model. This did start out as a joke. A way to kill the afternoon. But after hours of survey questions, practiced runway struts, and searches for outfits that best defined us while still looking fashionable, this day had turned this into something more. Something needlessly serious.

We drove on. The ride was long and our tenacity started wearing off. Was this beginning to be more trouble than it was worth? But as we sped around a corner and through a yellow light flashing to red, it finally came into view. The mall that would be packed full of wannabes, hopefuls, and die hards. The brown bricked, faceless building housing the haute couture cattle call loomed over the road ahead of us. It was surprisingly harmless looking. Mundane, really. And in it's opulent normalcy, we were comforted. That comfort then fueled us with more confidence. And that confidence gave way to a feeling of 'why not us?'

We cruised through the parking lot with the windows down. 'Hey, other try-out girls walking in, hear our music? We are bad asses.' Passive aggressive intimidation. I nudged my old Buick into a tight spot only 50 feet from the doors. Flipping down the visor mirrors we smoothed our hair. I ran a finger under my eye to fix where the liner had smudged. As I wiped the black soot from my eye carelessly on the dark fabric of my car seat, our there-for-moral-support friend flashed us a beaming I-believe-in-you-smile, "It's time!"

The three of us started to walk to the double glass doors, stained with the hand prints of shoppers, and their children. The moral supporter had pulled a few feet ahead and was closest to the door. I tugged the dress of my other friend. Let's catch up. She threw me a panicked glance. I shook it off. We're already here, nothing is stopping us now. What was there to be worried about? There's nothing scary about this building, if anything it was dull. It wasn't intimidating, so it's contents couldn't be intimidating. We pushed through the doors, and despite my intransigence, my stomach lurched. Why was I nervous? Didn't my guts remember this wasn't a big deal?

Looking Back at VDays Past: I Am Not a Beautiful, Angelic Being of Purity and Limitless Love

Things I like about Valentine's Day:

*Retro Victorian valentines that are bright and ornate

* Candy Conversation Hearts

* The cheesetastic puns found on the cartoon valentines that come 30 per a box

* Giant tacky velvet boxes of chocolates adorned with elaborate lace, bows, and flowers

* The extra love, adoration, and presents one recieves from family, friends, co-workers, and partners

In general I love holidays and the themed apparel that comes with those holidays. Though, there is one thing about Valentines Day that makes it extra special for me, and that is The Vagina Monologues. I acted and directed for it all throughout college, and it stands as one of my proudest accomplishments. In the years that I did it, I helped raise over $15,000 for programs in my town that provided support and safety for victims of intimate partner violence, sexual assault, and rape. In addition it helped me and many other girls/women I worked with become more open and talkative about our bodies, sexuality, and life experiences.

The dialogue it created year after year just between the performers alone was hilarious, exciting, eye-opening, titillating, wrenching, thought-provoking, and sometimes just outrageous. Each time I worked with it I learned more about myself, and the women of my campus. Also, it quickly became clear that a portion of the campus totally disagreed with us, our experience, and our expression. I'm not talking about some of the more legit arguments against the play, I'm more speaking to how conservatives think this play is making women synonymous only with their vaginas, ignoring their precious jewel like quality.

There's lots of muck one could get into about this, but just for fun I'm going to let my previous work speak for me. Upon shamelessly Google searching my name recently (you know you do it too), I found this opinion piece I wrote for my college paper two years ago in response to some misogynist asshole masquerading as God's Duke of Protecting Oversexed Women. I've read lots of college republican bs when it comes to the VagMons, but this article in particular really tops the cake. So for posterity's sake, let's jump in the way back machine and check out why The Vagina Monologues Do More Harm Than Good for Women and don't forget to read my response. Yeah they have a couple years on them, but the arguments in both are timeless.

I hope everyone enjoys their holiday however they like, and I encourage you to find a V-Day show to support near you! Remember all proceeds go to benefit victims of violence in your neighborhood!

What Noteworthy Thing Could Have Possibly Happened in the Last 3 Months?

I know I haven't written anything since October, and the reason is...nothing's really happened since then. I did have a birthday, and some holidays, but other than that, it just doesn't seem like there has been a lot to write about lately. But I did stand outside in the cold for like 6 hours last week...and I'm working on a post about that now.

Sorry about the long break, I'm back for realz this time, I promise.

There's a Lot More to Life Than Being Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking - Part 3

Standing in front of my closet, I was weighing out the options. Ironic or classic? These were really my only two choices. Though I enjoy following fashion and watching trends, I suck at pretending I care enough to buy a new necklace every time Forever 21 decides boho chic is in or out again. Plus, my overwhelming desire to look like I dropped out of a Rogers and Hammerstein piece tends to color my ability to fit into fashion’s social norms.

I had my outfit for the big ANTM tryout narrowed down to two equally offbeat dresses. One was a black velvet and gold lamé tulle explosion from the early Madonna years, and the other was a retro 1950’s garden-party inspired dress also in black, and adorned with small white polka dots. Ironic or classic? After hopping in and out of each dress a few times, painstakingly looking at them in both the bedroom full length mirror and the smaller bathroom mirror (each providing not only different views, but also different light), I chose the garden party dress. Over mutterings from the boyfriend reminding me that I was doing this just for fun, I matter-of-factly explained to myself that, really, velvet is more of an evening look, and this tryout was at 2 o’clock in the afternoon – the perfect time for a 50’s style back yard tea.

Did I over think the outfit? Oh surely, yes. But considering my being brainwashed by the survey I filled out the night before, it added up. I made the firm decision that my clever responses to their application would not be enough to seal the deal. In order to take reality TV by storm, I had to have a classic, yet edgy look to catch their eye. The dress took care of the classic, and I was counting on my platinum locks and tendency to overdose on black mascara to cover the edgy aspect.

In red patent leather peep-toed heals, I clumsily practiced my runway walk for the boyfriend and the non-trying-out-yet-attending-for-moral-support friend before we hit the road. I greedily soaked in the compliments they gave adding further to my delusions of grandeur. Before I pranced out to pick up the other friend who was trying-out, the boyfriend tried to give me some sage advice about keeping things in perspective. Or something like that, it was hard to hear him over my inner self who was boisterously singing my praises. This is going to be a cake-walk I told myself. I am going to stand out from every lame sequined tank top girl that shows up. I am a beautiful and unique snowflake. My inner Tyler Durden frowned. I was going to win fame, success, and happiness. No one can compete with a retro 1950’s garden party inspired dress. Nothing can stop me now.

There's a Lot More to Life Than Being Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking - Part 2

When my friend called to tell me that "America's Next Top Model" was having open casting calls in the DC area, I couldn't think of a more hilarious way to spend my weekend. We sat together for hours working on the "application." With our gaze fixed on the computer screen, we tried to think of the most clever answers to "What would you do if this show made you famous?" and "Would you ever go to a nude beach?" Long after my friend had to head home, I sat, eyes glazed over, trying to come up with the wittiest response to "What is your ideal romantic partner like?" These reality show questionnaires are of course looking for the "honest" answer. Seriously people, just be yourself. Except that on ANTM, girls are routinely shot down for being themselves. On more than one occasion Tyra has scolded a few modeling hopefuls for not being lady-like or whatever modern day phrase is slightly more socially acceptable, yet not any less offensive. I typed and untyped "must be good in bed" a couple of times under the question about romantic partner qualifications. In hindsight, I should have went with it, as it became clear during the first audition that our cleverly honest, well thought out applications would be taken into little to no consideration. Plus it is one of my qualifications. A major one. I scrapped it though, with the idea of seeming neat and pretty until I made it on the show. Then, once in the public eye, my plan was to be outlandishly crass, outspoken about controversial issues, and outright defiant, while of course winning the competition and shattering the image of perfection in the modeling/beauty industry. The whole process started to become less of a hilarious anecdote to tell later, and more of my chance to change the way Americans conceptualize beauty in one fell swoop.

"Do you have a temper?"

"What kind of people would you want to live in a house with?"

Ridiculous question after ridiculous question, I started taking more seriously. I dumped all of my goofy, sarcastic answers for more polished, droll responses. I wanted to erase the blemishes. Anything that made me sound flippant and irreverent had to go. My application was me wearing make-up. Not a lie, just a more palatable version of the truth.

"Have you ever thrown something in anger? Explain."

"Have you ever thought of running for political office, why or why not?"

“How do you deal with someone who intimidates you?”

At the root of it all, after 7 pages of bullshit MySpace like survey questions, this application is really just asking, “How good of a reality television show contestant would you be?” I was convinced this show was looking for entertainers, not models. They need someone to keep audiences tuning in week after week…someone with personality...and in my dark living room at 2am the night before the auditions, as I typed my perfect answers out with rapt attention, I was convinced. I told myself, that someone is so me.

There's a Lot More to Life Than Being Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking - Part 1

Outside the BMW dealership, 200-300 girls waited in line anxiously repeating to themselves why they wanted to become America's Next Top Model. Sun beating down on us, my friend and I were a part of this line. We were a part of this handful of girls who had already waited in a line the week before, and were picked, much to our surprise and wonder, to wait in this new line. The next round of cuts. One step closer to the fame and fortune that deep down, when stripped of our good intentions, we all truly desired. We were the chosen few, and our reward was to wait for another few hours outside a BMW dealership in the unforgiving July heat. Standing in line, waiting to be filmed. Waiting to tell a camera that we were pretty, but we also have brains, talents, attitude, kind hearts, whatever. Telling the faceless camera something, anything, to set us apart. Something to make us unique in a sea of similarity. In the sweltering humidity we couldn't help but ask ourselves why we wanted to be America's Next Top Model. Tottering above one another in our highest heels, in what we perceived to be our most fashionable attire, waiting to compete if only for a few seconds with the other hundred girls in line. Make-up smearing from the heat. Hair once perfectly arranged strand by strand, now matted, wet with sweat. Bangs sticking to our melting faces, we all wanted to be validated again. Tell me I'm good. Tell me I'm pretty. I kept thinking, this all started out as a joke.

I'm Ready to Make Beer Bellies the Must Have Look for This Fall

It's time for Tyra to see the wicked style of LTB. Wild hounds couldn't keep me away from these auditions. For a hilarious rundown on the madness, check back next week.

I Am Jack's Bloated Ego

Due to popular demand (ha) I have now joined the ranks of amateurs far and wide who think their opinions are so very very fascinating that they should be read, and pondered by the hoards of cyberspacers who are bored enough to search the tubes for "Feminism," "Pop Culture," "Politics," and "Edward Norton." Yes, these are the important topics that will be delved into here. So read, comment, and pitch in because, really, what else are you going to do? Work? Bitch, please.