That is all.
Oh, and the fact that I'm not exactly handling the aging thing so well. I can handle white hairs, it's the responsibility that's tricky.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
How not to talk to a woman.
Preface: this entire thing is gonna be crazy heteronormative, and I apologize in advance for that, but I really don't think that I am currently informed enough to speak about other types of relationships or interactions.
Additionally, yes, I am aware that not all of these apply to every woman. However, the general ideas, I hope, ring true.
1. Don't cage her in.
I had assumed this was an obvious one, but it's apparently not. If you are talking to a woman and her back is against the wall, do NOT stick out your arm and lean against the wall. You may think you're being suave, or being relaxed, but what you are being is a human prison. She'll feel like she can't get away. Same goes for putting your arm around the back of a couch when she's sitting there. You notice her squirming? It's because you've now placed her in your embrace and she's uncomfortable.
2. Don't call her a slut or a whore.
The amount and type of sex this woman happens to have is frankly none of your business except for the amount she's having with you. This goes the same for "prude," but since that word is not as terrible in society as the two I used, I'm focusing on those two. I don't give a shit if the dress she's wearing is so small that it shows her Fallopian tubes; you don't get to say she's "dressed like a slut." Just how does a slut dress?
3. Don't tell her she's fat or skinny.
The next person I hear say "they shouldn't make leggings in any sizes larger than a medium, because otherwise fat people think they can wear them" and then chuckle to themselves like they just said something funny is gonna get cut. What on Earth gave you the right to say something about any woman's size? My personal favorite: "ugh, oh my God, there was this obese woman wearing a tank top and I swear to God her arms were the grossest thing ever."
F*** you, seriously. You poor thing, having to look at someone's chubby arms. You should just sue that woman for emotional distress and pain and suffering. How dare she even be out in public looking the way she does? And don't you give me that sanctimonious bullshit about "I'm just worried about her health." You do not give a single damn about her health, you just don't want to see someone's "muffin top" out and about.
The same goes for "skinny," though it's less severe than "fat" because of sosighehtee again. Either of these words: at best, you're making a woman feel bad about herself. At worst, you're exacerbating an already present eating disorder. All this so you can feel superior.
4. Don't imitate her voice as a whiny, nasally irritant.
Stop it. Just STOP IT. You and every single male comedian in the last 50 years has decided that women, when just being the silly women that they are, sound like prepubescent boys with lisps who have just had their toy T. Rex. taken away from them. None of us sound like that, but you seem endlessly entertained by hearing guys go "so this girl is just like 'listeeeeeennnn oh my God why aren't you listening to me I have something to tell youuuuu' bahahaha why are women so annoying?"
I wasn't aware that a higher pitched voice automatically made my requests invalid. Noted.
5. Don't "throw negs."
Negging, pick-up artists whatever else people are coming up with to just get those bitches to pay attention to them for 3 seconds because if they do, they'll see that I'm such a Nice Guy (registered trademark) and stop going for jerks like they always do because women are so stupid and don't understand that they should just appreciate what's right in front of them because I'm totally willing to pay for dinner so why the hell won't she put out.
Stop grouping women as "crazy bitches who don't even know what they want" and maybe one will talk to you if you're actually as nice as you seem to think you are. Insulting her under the guise of trying to get her to pay attention doesn't make you cool or practical or "just doing what you have to do" it makes you an asshat. My argument is not that it doesn't work. I know it works. My argument is that it makes you a terrible person who would sacrifice an insecure woman's self-esteem for the chance at a phone number.
6. Don't ask "why are women so crazy?"
We're not crazy. You're gaslighting. Short of her setting your house on fire because you tapped your pencil too loudly, she's not crazy. Generalizations are not your friend here, champ. All women are not sociopaths, and emotions are not the same as insanity.
I'm sure I've forgotten some, but you know how crazy women get: just a little anger and they stop making sense.
Additionally, yes, I am aware that not all of these apply to every woman. However, the general ideas, I hope, ring true.
1. Don't cage her in.
I had assumed this was an obvious one, but it's apparently not. If you are talking to a woman and her back is against the wall, do NOT stick out your arm and lean against the wall. You may think you're being suave, or being relaxed, but what you are being is a human prison. She'll feel like she can't get away. Same goes for putting your arm around the back of a couch when she's sitting there. You notice her squirming? It's because you've now placed her in your embrace and she's uncomfortable.
2. Don't call her a slut or a whore.
The amount and type of sex this woman happens to have is frankly none of your business except for the amount she's having with you. This goes the same for "prude," but since that word is not as terrible in society as the two I used, I'm focusing on those two. I don't give a shit if the dress she's wearing is so small that it shows her Fallopian tubes; you don't get to say she's "dressed like a slut." Just how does a slut dress?
3. Don't tell her she's fat or skinny.
The next person I hear say "they shouldn't make leggings in any sizes larger than a medium, because otherwise fat people think they can wear them" and then chuckle to themselves like they just said something funny is gonna get cut. What on Earth gave you the right to say something about any woman's size? My personal favorite: "ugh, oh my God, there was this obese woman wearing a tank top and I swear to God her arms were the grossest thing ever."
F*** you, seriously. You poor thing, having to look at someone's chubby arms. You should just sue that woman for emotional distress and pain and suffering. How dare she even be out in public looking the way she does? And don't you give me that sanctimonious bullshit about "I'm just worried about her health." You do not give a single damn about her health, you just don't want to see someone's "muffin top" out and about.
The same goes for "skinny," though it's less severe than "fat" because of sosighehtee again. Either of these words: at best, you're making a woman feel bad about herself. At worst, you're exacerbating an already present eating disorder. All this so you can feel superior.
4. Don't imitate her voice as a whiny, nasally irritant.
Stop it. Just STOP IT. You and every single male comedian in the last 50 years has decided that women, when just being the silly women that they are, sound like prepubescent boys with lisps who have just had their toy T. Rex. taken away from them. None of us sound like that, but you seem endlessly entertained by hearing guys go "so this girl is just like 'listeeeeeennnn oh my God why aren't you listening to me I have something to tell youuuuu' bahahaha why are women so annoying?"
I wasn't aware that a higher pitched voice automatically made my requests invalid. Noted.
5. Don't "throw negs."
Negging, pick-up artists whatever else people are coming up with to just get those bitches to pay attention to them for 3 seconds because if they do, they'll see that I'm such a Nice Guy (registered trademark) and stop going for jerks like they always do because women are so stupid and don't understand that they should just appreciate what's right in front of them because I'm totally willing to pay for dinner so why the hell won't she put out.
Stop grouping women as "crazy bitches who don't even know what they want" and maybe one will talk to you if you're actually as nice as you seem to think you are. Insulting her under the guise of trying to get her to pay attention doesn't make you cool or practical or "just doing what you have to do" it makes you an asshat. My argument is not that it doesn't work. I know it works. My argument is that it makes you a terrible person who would sacrifice an insecure woman's self-esteem for the chance at a phone number.
6. Don't ask "why are women so crazy?"
We're not crazy. You're gaslighting. Short of her setting your house on fire because you tapped your pencil too loudly, she's not crazy. Generalizations are not your friend here, champ. All women are not sociopaths, and emotions are not the same as insanity.
I'm sure I've forgotten some, but you know how crazy women get: just a little anger and they stop making sense.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Sweatin' to the Oldies.
I am an occasional gym-goer. If you average out my attendance in the past two years, I've gone once a week, but what this really means is that I turn into a juiced-up go-getter for two weeks or so and go nearly every day, and then taper off until my deltoids look like Flubber for a bit, and then drag my sorry butt to the gym once again. It's a terrible thing, I know. Which is why I am posting this on here, so everyone can know my shame, and I will hopefully then lessen the shame by finding a happy gym medium somewhere between unsalted butter and The Situation.
I am also a treadmill girl. Most people say it's boring after like, 90 seconds, but for me it's time to not be staring at a casebook or grocery shopping or staring at a casebook or filling up my gas tank or setting a casebook on fire. I get to zone out, and have thoughts like "wow, one of my ears is higher on my head than the other. I never noticed that. And now I get to spend the rest of my life noticing it YAYYY." I don't generally have a certain time I need to do, or an amount I need to run. I run until I can't anymore (sometimes that's a mile and a half, sometimes it's just the half), and then I walk. When I feel okay again, I start running again. And then when I can't, I walk, etc etc (COOL STORY, BRO)
I don't read. I don't watch the TV (unless it's on Cash Cab because dang them gurlz get PAIIIID). I don't even listen to music. I spend my 20, 30, 40 minutes getting gross and wondering why they made a Miss Congeniality 2.
And observing people, obvi!
And may I just say the one thing: I realize that this time is the time for the "New Year's Resolution people" to show up at gyms. Seriously, y'all rock for doing that, and I hope it sticks, but it makes gyms more crowded, and I of all people understand that waiting for a treadmill is hardcore #firstworldproblems but also feels like the end of the frickin' WORLD when you have many things to do that day. I don not WANT to wait, and my impatience could possibly end the world Mayan-style (that is, not at all, because I'm really not that mean).
My bigger issue with gym stuff is generally how I manage to get on the treadmill next to the offspring of Charles Atlas and a gazelle. They start off their warmups at my "top speed" that I maintain for about 30 seconds at the end of my run to "power through" or whatever. They all wear clothing that looks painted on, and painted on by Da Vinci. I have turned into a bright pink version of the Canadian side of Niagara Falls and they look no different than when they started. My steps sound Baby Elephant Walk-ish but less jaunty, and I am convinced that their feet are not actually making contact with the ground.
So, if you see me on a treadmill and my face is that nice mix of exhaustion and "I must look like a boulder that has grown legs" depression, give me a high-five. But maybe wait like ten minutes for me to be able to lift my arm.
I am also a treadmill girl. Most people say it's boring after like, 90 seconds, but for me it's time to not be staring at a casebook or grocery shopping or staring at a casebook or filling up my gas tank or setting a casebook on fire. I get to zone out, and have thoughts like "wow, one of my ears is higher on my head than the other. I never noticed that. And now I get to spend the rest of my life noticing it YAYYY." I don't generally have a certain time I need to do, or an amount I need to run. I run until I can't anymore (sometimes that's a mile and a half, sometimes it's just the half), and then I walk. When I feel okay again, I start running again. And then when I can't, I walk, etc etc (COOL STORY, BRO)
I don't read. I don't watch the TV (unless it's on Cash Cab because dang them gurlz get PAIIIID). I don't even listen to music. I spend my 20, 30, 40 minutes getting gross and wondering why they made a Miss Congeniality 2.
And observing people, obvi!
And may I just say the one thing: I realize that this time is the time for the "New Year's Resolution people" to show up at gyms. Seriously, y'all rock for doing that, and I hope it sticks, but it makes gyms more crowded, and I of all people understand that waiting for a treadmill is hardcore #firstworldproblems but also feels like the end of the frickin' WORLD when you have many things to do that day. I don not WANT to wait, and my impatience could possibly end the world Mayan-style (that is, not at all, because I'm really not that mean).
My bigger issue with gym stuff is generally how I manage to get on the treadmill next to the offspring of Charles Atlas and a gazelle. They start off their warmups at my "top speed" that I maintain for about 30 seconds at the end of my run to "power through" or whatever. They all wear clothing that looks painted on, and painted on by Da Vinci. I have turned into a bright pink version of the Canadian side of Niagara Falls and they look no different than when they started. My steps sound Baby Elephant Walk-ish but less jaunty, and I am convinced that their feet are not actually making contact with the ground.
So, if you see me on a treadmill and my face is that nice mix of exhaustion and "I must look like a boulder that has grown legs" depression, give me a high-five. But maybe wait like ten minutes for me to be able to lift my arm.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Let's get some resolutions up in here.
Hey all,
So, I realize that I am awful at updating this thing in a timely manner. I want to find a way to update more, but since it takes an unreasonable amount of effort to churn out each individual Ming vase of word-paint, I will be forced into simply updating about more life-specific/less hilarious items.
One of my New Year's resolutions is to update once a week. If you see me in person or otherwise and it's been more than a week since this update, feel free to pistol-whip me (h/t Baird Bream). Lightly chastising will work just as well if you don't carry.
Law school, part 4 (The Goblet of F... never mind) starts up on Monday. I do not have grades yet, and won't for a while, so that means that what I WILL have is a series of mini-heart attacks every time the e-mail notification goes off on my phone because in my head it's a Pauly D-esque voice saying "GRADES AH HEAH." Yes, I'm pathetic. Yes, I did this to myself. Yes, I could use some distraction.
I am, however, rull excited about my classes, which is standard nerd cred right there. Since 2012 thus far has included the extended versions of Two Towers and Return of the King, a purchase of Season 1 of Avatar: The Last Airbender, and a Settlers of Catan win, this looks like this is gonna be a good year for nerd cred. Also, since Boyfriend is a gamer (just admit it, champ, it won't hurt), I have watched him play significant amounts of Battlefield 3 and Deus Ex, and hide behind his chair for some Dead Island.
It's okay, I know, you wish you could be this cool.
My one thing to share with the world: when people have hiccups, stop giving them advice on how to cure them. You will get no other response than "shut up, shut UP *HIC* no no no SERIOUSLY shut u-*HIC*" and you will deserve it. Hiccups hurt, and when someone's like "did you hold your breath?! did you drink some water?! DO YOU WANT ME TO SCARE YOU BOOOOOO" all you want to do is punch that person in the face. If you are that person to me, you will get punched, because you've now been warned.
I warn because I care. Make me keep this up, y'all.
So, I realize that I am awful at updating this thing in a timely manner. I want to find a way to update more, but since it takes an unreasonable amount of effort to churn out each individual Ming vase of word-paint, I will be forced into simply updating about more life-specific/less hilarious items.
One of my New Year's resolutions is to update once a week. If you see me in person or otherwise and it's been more than a week since this update, feel free to pistol-whip me (h/t Baird Bream). Lightly chastising will work just as well if you don't carry.
Law school, part 4 (The Goblet of F... never mind) starts up on Monday. I do not have grades yet, and won't for a while, so that means that what I WILL have is a series of mini-heart attacks every time the e-mail notification goes off on my phone because in my head it's a Pauly D-esque voice saying "GRADES AH HEAH." Yes, I'm pathetic. Yes, I did this to myself. Yes, I could use some distraction.
I am, however, rull excited about my classes, which is standard nerd cred right there. Since 2012 thus far has included the extended versions of Two Towers and Return of the King, a purchase of Season 1 of Avatar: The Last Airbender, and a Settlers of Catan win, this looks like this is gonna be a good year for nerd cred. Also, since Boyfriend is a gamer (just admit it, champ, it won't hurt), I have watched him play significant amounts of Battlefield 3 and Deus Ex, and hide behind his chair for some Dead Island.
It's okay, I know, you wish you could be this cool.
My one thing to share with the world: when people have hiccups, stop giving them advice on how to cure them. You will get no other response than "shut up, shut UP *HIC* no no no SERIOUSLY shut u-*HIC*" and you will deserve it. Hiccups hurt, and when someone's like "did you hold your breath?! did you drink some water?! DO YOU WANT ME TO SCARE YOU BOOOOOO" all you want to do is punch that person in the face. If you are that person to me, you will get punched, because you've now been warned.
I warn because I care. Make me keep this up, y'all.
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