“Just singing it today really brought back memories of me being, you know, six and seven and performing it at really special moments of people’s lives.”—Something Christina Aguilera just said about the song “Ave Maria” on my television just now. Christina Aguilera has been performing “Ave Maria” at people’s major life events since the age of six. What. Just…what. Christina needs to record what she says for a day and hear herself.
There’s a lot of stuff going on on the interwebs that makes me want to punch someone. Mainly, it’s stuff about people hating other people, people not being aware they are not the only person on this planet, or people thinking they win at life because some guy that used to like them, but is now dating someone else, totally wishes he hadn’t missed his chance.
So I say to you, People of the Internet, don’t hate, be nice, and let’s maybe redefine “winning,” shall we?
Let’s also look at these pictures of dogs dressed as Ewoks:
19 Tips for Females in 2012…written by not a female.
Apart from a horrific overuse of commas and a 1996 Comedy Central special view of ladies, here are some highlights from this timely little piece.
“Don’t take advice or listen to the hardships of being an independent, single woman from a rich musician (married to an even wealthier man)…I’m specifically referring to Beyoncé.” What fucking planet are you living on where you think Beyoncé is even remotely relying Jay-Z for money? And why exactly do you think Beyoncé’s advice isn’t as good as gold? Is it because you can’t or don’t want to relate to it as a dude? I can tolerate a lot of bullshit, but dismissing Queen B is not something I can stomach.
“It is completely OK to not watch sports. That’s a whole lot less irritating than putting sports related Tweets & Facebook statuses, just to be topical. Example: ‘Kobe and Lakers are my team, they are SOOOO good at basketball!’” It is also completely okay for you to shut your goddam mouth and not pretend you know the first thing about telling females how to live their lives.
“Don’t wear sweatpants in public. A recent study showed that the sight of sweatpants causes instant softness in the male penis.” I’m so confused right now!! Drake told me that’s when I look the prettiest, but now you’re telling me that it’s getting in the way of you having a 24/7 boner party. Please confer with each other before you tell me what to wear. It would make my life so much easier!
“We get it, you like Starbucks (and tanning in several cases).” You know how women be shopping and tanning and drinking their Starbucks but men be like playing sports and buying powertools and introducing offensive legislation that be treating women like handmaids.
“Eat a friggin’ hamburger if you want to! Curvy healthy looking girls are far more attractive than skeletons.” Relax, ladies. We can be a full and curvy size 4 and guys will still give us a chance.
“STOP hating on each other females so much. (Specifically when the hate is unwarranted and based strictly on physical appearance.)” Not every girl has a boyfriend that allows her to eat the occasional hamburger. Try to remember that everyone’s fighting their own battle. :’)
“That Lifetime movie you’re about to watch, is about a woman with an abusive husband, an eating disorder, a stalker or an affair and in the end, she’ll be just fine. Boom! That should save you an abundance of time that would’ve otherwise been consumed by atrocious TV movies.” I just kind of want to save the guy that wrote this the embarrassment he might feel when he repeats this joke in front of his female friends at prom and let him know that I can count on a closed fist how many females I know that watch Lifetime movies without the intent to mercilessly mock them. And even if they do enjoy Lifetime, the fuck business is it of yours? Time enjoyed watching something you enjoy is not necessarily time wasted.
Molly fucking killing it as always. Also, fuck that dude.
Love it. I would like to add, in regards to “Don’t Wear Sweatpants in Public,” that, contrary to popular belief, my goal when I leave the house isn’t to give every guy within a 50 foot radius of me a boner. Turns out, making sure dudes I DON’T KNOW OR CARE ABOUT have boners when they pass me in the supermarket is waaaaaaaaaay down on my list of things to care about. Right underneath: finding fucks to give about your blog. That being said, I wish sweatpants magically made every dick go soft! I would wear them everyday. But even when I do wear them, I still get unwelcome advances from dudes with this type of mindset who think every woman is actively trying to impress men. Well guess what? I’m not. I just want to pay as little money as possible for some wine and cheese and go home in my super comfortable sweatpants. I don’t want to talk to you. And unless your name is “Super Soft Brie” or “Pinot Noir,” I don’t even want to look at you. Shut it down, dude.
Today is National Grilled Cheese Day. It’s also Greek Orthodox Holy Thursday. This means tonight is going to consist of eating Grilled Cheese Sandwiches while dyeing eggs red followed by watching NBC Thursday Night comedies.
There are too many things to celebrate, but I am not complaining.
Taller women are (very) slightly more likely to develop breast and/or ovarian cancer. The overall increase in risk factor is really nothing to be worried about, but damn BBC News, you know how to make me more anxious than the WebMD symptom checker.
As the data indicates correlation and not causation, it could have absolutely nothing to do with genetics or even height. Perhaps tall women are more likely to be obese, which is a risk factor for both types of cancers. Or perhaps tall women are more likely to use cancer causing cell phones (is that even a real thing? I don’t even know). Or maybe we are closer to the carcinogenic pollutants in the air. Or maybe BBC News just knows how to make me feel depressed about life.
Someone at work today said, “why did I do that” and all I could think about was this gem of a quote from Parks and Rec:
"I got that tunnel vision that girls get. I let my emotions get the best of me. I cared too much, I guess. I was thinking with my lady parts. I was walking and it felt icky. I thought there was gonna be chocolate. I don’t even remember! I’m wearing a new bra, and it closes in the front, so it popped open and it threw me off. All I wanna do is have babies! I’m just going through a thing right now. I guess when my life is incomplete, I wanna just shoot someone. This would not happen if I had a penis! Bitches be crazy. I’m good at tolerating pain; I’m bad at math, and… I’m stupid."
I’m now too big to shop at Victoria’s Secret, which is just about the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. I just had my yearly physical (hey corporate health insurance requirements) and I can assure you all that I am in the healthy weight range for my height. I’m not overweight, I don’t have a hormone imbalance, and my name isn’t Christina Hendricks. I’m just a normal girl with normal proportions. Why can’t I have nice things?
I think it’s because I’m tall. (So maybe I’m not so normal.) What’s a healthy size for me would be large for your average height American female. You know what I have to say to that? A third of America is obese! Not just overweight, mind you, but obese. Where are all the overweight, obese, and/or tall women buying their bras? Or their clothes, for that matter? Not at any store you can find in a mall, that’s for sure.
America, you fail.
And don’t even get me started about what shopping for shoes for my “giant” feet is like.
And salespeople? Enough with being shocked by my height/chest/feet. Nothing about me is even as remotely shocking as you seem to find it. 5’10” is not that tall and parts proportionate to height should not seem that unusual.
Or at least, I think it is. In Los Angeles, a city known for its year-round temperate climate, one can never be quite sure.
The important thing is that it feels like spring to me. Yesterday I wandered the neighborhood streets with my man and the fresh, brisk air coupled with my robin’s egg blue dress led me to the conclusion that it is indeed spring.
This is a problem.
Spring makes me want to nest, and the urge to nest makes me want to shop for pretty things.
I want to buy every dress I see that looks like this and every espadrille ever made. I want them all.
I want fresh flowers in the house all the time. I want to paint the walls in blues and yellows. I want jewelry with flowers and feathers and little ladybugs on it. I want to put spring in my home and wrap it around me and completely saturate myself with it.
So far my only indulgence has been new, bright pink lipstick. And my bank account is hoping it stays that way.
But heavens above help me if I am not tempted to blow my money on a little number like this: