This post is NSFW (but in an ideal world, it wouldn't be)

On my way home from work the other day, I heard a radio commercial for the new show called the LA Complex. This seemingly outstanding CW programming has the dramatic context of young 20-somethings trying to make in LA as actresses, actors, singers, writers, etc. Apparently it’s supposed to be a lot grittier than other shows of that ilk (doesn’t every show promise that?), but before I changed my radio to CD input, two words grabbed my attention: sex tape. The chicks on the TV ad were discussing why they might be inclined to make a sex tape, if it would get them famous. This subject matter is supposed to be topical. Sex sells, but lately, it seems to be the driving force of the plot lines.

Last week’s episode on Glee also featured talk of a sex tape. The super hot Brittany was helping her equally hot girlfriend, Santana, achieve fame. Santana proclaimed that she always knew she’d be famous, even if she didn’t know how. Wanting to be the supportive girlfriend, Brittany put their sex tape online (with spliced in footage of her cat, Lord Tubbington). Naturally, Santana was upset but her demeanor softened when she realized that Brittany only wanted to help her achieve her inner stardom, whatever that may be.

Please be over 18...

These were only two in mainstream media that I caught this week, but it was enough for me to dwell on the topic. My question about this whole (relatively) recent phenomenon is, what’s the big deal?

Even as I stare at the sentences on my screen, I don’t know how to phrase them any better, so I’m going to let them stand. So here’s my piece. As a 23 (soon to be 24) year old woman, I don’t see what the buzz is about sex tapes, whether its negative or positive. They seem to be a dime a dozen. Kim Kardashian. Pamela Anderson. Paris Hilton. Tila Tequila. Just to name a few. There are countless more, and I’m sure we’ll get inundated in the future when the younger set realizes they can program their iPhones to flip the video recording the other way, and avoid awkward angles.

If the two adults are consenting, and of legal age, why are sex tapes such a big deal? I don’t see why there is this stigma attached about filming something so awesome, and then distributing it later. Nobody is forcing anyone to watch them online if they don’t want to (and believe me, you definitely don’t want to see some of the stuff I just watched to research this). Still, the more porn I view, I don’t get why everyone bitches about it. Nobody stopped Stephanie Meyer from putting her stupid filth on film, and now we’re stuck with five Twilight movies. Yet, when Jenna Lewis from Survivor creates a sex tape with her husband on her wedding night, suddenly morality is brought into question.

Now, when scumbags like John Edwards film sex tapes with their pregnant mistresses, that’s pretty shitty. Maybe I’m a purist, but I think you should only create monogamous sex tapes (unless it’s a threeway, then that’s awesome). As I stated before, sex tapes are pure fun when both parties are aware of the filming and they’re over 18. Nothing is worse than finding out someone is secretly filming you. However, I have zero sympathy for someone who knew they were being filmed and then got upset it was somehow ‘leaked’. That’s right Kendra Wilkinson. Oh, and you looked fine without the implants too. Stop bitching. 

I don’t know why people are so dumb. I treat every picture and video I’m in as if it had the potential to go online. There’s a reason why I don’t post pictures of myself visibly intoxicated online, or videos of me trying to parallel park. Anything embarrassing about me has relatively no record. I mean, sure there are some less than flattering images tagged on Facebook (look for me attempting to eat a chicken wing but failing, David Hasselhoff style), but there’s nothing I’m downright ashamed of. Nothing that would ruin my life.

So, when I hear people who I deem to be open-minded shunning those who make sex tapes, I wonder about perspective. I’m not forcing you to do one thing or the other, but if you want to make a sex tape, let your freak flag fly. Put that shit online. I’d like to live in a world where employers don’t care if they see you tea bagging because it just shows you flexible you are to take on multiple roles in the workplace. If you found a sex tape of someone you went on a first date with, you could see if it’s worth waiting for the third date. I mean, you wouldn’t buy a car without a test drive. Except now the test drive is a flight simulator that you can autopilot from your own bedroom.

Nothing boosts your confidence like filming yourself at your sexiest. It’s cheaper than drugs, and the high lasts a lot longer. Plus, it’s a great way to bond with your significant other. Just be smart and make an informed decision. Hopefully, society evolves into one where a sex tape isn’t a taboo plot device for the LA Complex, but just a standard checkmark of interpersonal capabilities. So hurry up, because whatever you’ve got going on isn’t going to look this good in ten years. It’s all about self preservation. But be careful about giving yourself Vinegar Strokes.

Maybe I'm just bitter I didn't win the MegaMillions...

Here’s a warning. I’ve been in a terrible mood for the past couple of days. Perhaps you can tie it into my monthly cycle. I chalk it up to my forceful ability to be ignorant of my surroundings until one little thing sets me off and I break down harder than the Red line during rush hour. 

The other day, I left my apartment early, stressed out as usual, and I had to mail my taxes. I was calm about the whole process, since H&R Block saved me over a thousand dollars. Yet, they don’t put me in the commercials like they do with the exuberant overweight woman or the peppy bald guy. Like most bleeding liberals, I have no problem paying taxes. I do have a problem with the post office. As I stood in line, punctually at 8:50 AM, I had probably five people in front of me. I have no idea who tailgates the Wheaton Post Office more than 10 minutes before it opens, but I imagine their lives are either significantly more or significantly less fulfilling than mine if they place that much emphasis of an early advent to the post office. 

When were finally granted admission, there was only one employee working at the counter. I felt my anger rising but I tried to push it down. “They’re probably just all sorting mail in the back, to make sure it goes to the right place,” I consoled myself, conveniently forgetting that my paycheck has been incorrectly delivered twice to my new apartment, despite filing two change of address forms. It wasn’t until the man in front of me reached the counter, and proceeded to get verbally accosted by the postal clerk. The customer didn’t speak English very well, but like everyone else, he was trying to mail his taxes. All he wanted to do was ensure that he could track his taxes and certify it’s delivery. And, like all of us in line, we don’t have all the tiny pastel-colored mail forms memorized with their purpose and cost. It didn’t help matters that this man was dealing with the postal worker Dana and I refer to as the Soup Nazi, or the “SWIPE HERE!” lady.

She yelled at him for what felt like an hour, but was really two minutes. When I got up to the counter, I couldn't decide if I wanted to punch her or cry. As a sign from above, I noticed a poster warning me that assaulting a postal worker was punishable by up to 20 years in prison and a fine not to exceed $20,000. (Ironically, it's less jail time than than the cost of mailing hazardous materials).  I may have saved on my taxes, but not enough to make a girl fist and throw it. So, I settled for meek acquiescence, and ordered my certified mail with perfunctory responses that made the postal Soup Nazi happy. But I wasn't.

I've been thinking about this "being an adult and having grown-up problems" topic for the past few weeks and have come up with two inter-related conclusions:

1. Adulthood is just glorified adolescence, but with more money

2. Throwing money at a problem is how adults solve problems.

Let's put this in terms of dating, since that's really what adults do best. When you're in grade school, you want to date the person who has the coolest things, whether it be that Nintendo 64 or the new bicycle. It was probably video games. I loved visiting my friend Francesca when I was younger because we used to play Super Smash Brothers. Francesca was my best friend for other reasons, but she had, in my mind, cooler things than I did. Okay, bad example, because I never wanted to date Francesca. But plenty more guys wanted to date her than me.

In high school, all the cool kids had cars. I'm sure you put out because your high school date had a car with a large backseat. Since I was a late bloomer in the car, (re: driving) department, my Darwin instincts told me my survival would increase if I latched onto the people with the used Kias.

Enter college. It's like grade school all over again, but with more booze. You mean he has a keg at his party? I don't know...I'd rather go to the one that has the three beer pong tables. Oh my god, where did you get that dress? You mean you don't shop at Rugged? You're taking how many honors classes? You banged THAT many TAs? College is social climbing masked upon ambition and fueled by money from our parents and minimum wage jobs, with the sole purpose of getting laid for bragging rights at the next party.

And now, like most of us, we're employed. Some of us longer than others, but we're full-fledged adults. Which means the game's changed. Now, the entire world is our playground, and we have paychecks. Again, let's put this in terms of dating and relationships. I'm not going to disclose your names, but I was talking to a good number of my male friends. Every single one of you spoke favorably to some degree of the option of a mail order bride. For most of you, it's a last resort, but it's a definite option. When I asked for clarification why men do this, one of my friends explained, "...it is when you hit 40, have tons of spare cash and crushing feeling of loneliness".

Now, maybe this is a guy thing, but I have yet to meet one chick who is serious about a mail order husband, (if this service really exists). I don't surround myself with ugly people. I can't imagine why my guy friends would actually feel the need to literally buy someone because they're lonely. It's pathetic. And that's when I realized my second conclusion of adulthood: money fixes everything. You're lonely? Poof! Buy someone!

He couldn't have bought 4 less trashy women? Those boobs probably cost more than my Federal return. 

One of my very good friends told me about the time he was with a prostitute. I know this is a delicate topic, but I had to include this anecdote. He's extremely good looking, he's funny, he's creative...I could go on, but it's irrelevant. I just couldn't believe that someone like him would have to pay for sex when he could just go to a bar, buy a girl a couple of drinks, and bang her for way less than he paid a prostitute.  But he didn't. When I berated him, he explained that you can do things with prostitutes that other women won't let you do. I still don't want to know what that means, but I couldn't help but ask, "Wouldn't it be more cost-effective to just find the right perverted woman instead of having sex with a prostitute?" I'm a hopeless romantic. But, I'm also financially misinformed because sex with a prostitute is apparently a great transaction.

If you're an adult, like we all are, money is the only thing that drives us to do or receive anything. We wouldn't work as hard at our jobs if we didn't receive an incentive. And that pushes us to want more and more. So, we blow our paychecks on things we don't need (unrelated, I just bought the iPhone 4S), and on dating. I can't even begin to calculate how much both sexes pay on dating. I'm sick and tired of the argument that guys always end up paying, because you guys don't realize how much money goes into our perfume, cute summer dresses, hair products, eyebrow waxes, and razors to shave our cooches. It probably evens out in the end. Unless you're getting paid to have sex. Then, you're probably making a profit.

Anyways, the convoluted point I'm trying to make here is that all we do is spend money to get others to like us, or to fix our problems (the two are related). As we get older, it only gets worse. We need to live in nice houses, drive better cars, and put our eventual children in good schools. The cycle will never end. My favorite band, "The Killers" have an amazing line from their song, All These Things that I've Done: "I am so much older than I can take". Without trying to gush over their lyrical genius, I am in awe over this one sentence. I am so much older than I can take. I cannot accept my age. I am not able to process my age. I physically am unable to be this old because I don't know what I'm doing. And I'm scared.

Every morning, Dani and I bemoan being grown ups with responsibilities. But, wasn't it pretty much the same when we were younger--just with different responsibilities? When does the stress end? It ends when we stop letting money and stuff ruin us. I know I previously blogged about my love of douchebags and 'treating yourself', but for fuck's sake, don't let it take you over. I see people consumed by greed for the newest phone that they'll never call their parents on. (I'm safe--I Siri texted my mom earlier but she hasn't responded. Ball's in your court, Mommabear). They buy the awesome high definition TV but don't have anyone to invite over for movie nights.Your iPad 3's retina display won't suck your dick.

You can end this. I know they say money doesn't buy happiness, but my grandmother used to say that it's been known to bring a smile or two. Don't give it all up, but don't let it define you. Do you really want to be known as the guy with the awesome car and the Ukranian mail order bride? Stop solving you problems with money and solve them with action. Or, enjoy your Eastern European herpes.

Why Open Bars Open my Heart

Monday morning was rough; I woke up hungover.  Since Dani and I have been committed to a daily 6 AM gym session, I couldn’t bail out on our fitness regimen. So, I donned a hoodie, a soft rock playlist, comfy pants, and sat on a recumbent bike, trying to pedal my hangover away at 60 RPM. Didn’t work. Without judging my values and life choices, let me explain why I had a case of the hangover Mondays. My very good friend Aaron got married to his lovely (now) wife, Ilana on Sunday. Besides all the joy and good wishes I extend to the newlyweds, I also was fortunate to see some friends from college I haven’t seen in years, and my best friend Asher. Naturally, libations were in order.

Hold up. Never for a minute do I want any of you to think I got pretty shwasty at a wedding because of my own fears and ruminations about weddings. I’ve seen so many of those terrible chick flicks where it’s the ‘always a bridesmaid, never a bride’ mindset. The women cry and say OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO BE LONELY FOREVER, NOBODY LOVES ME, I’M JUST GOING TO DIE A SPINSTER WITH MY CATS. When I have women like Bridget Jones and Katherine Heigl from “27 Dresses” to emulate, there’s no wonder there is an abundance of tears and vodka at weddings these days. I’m the exact opposite. If anything, weddings make me optimistic. Aaron and Ilana are beautiful and wonderful together, but I’ve certainly attended weddings where I’ve anxiously sat and wondered about the outcome of the marriage. I’m not cynical but I’m realistic. I hear the statistics about relationships but I think its selfish to put your own feelings and doubts ahead of your enjoyment for a special wedding. That’s what pisses me off about people complaining about weddings. If you’re so focused on being a dick because you can’t get over your fear of commitment, then maybe you shouldn’t have been invited to a wedding in the first place.

I’m sick and tired of people who turn a wedding to all about themselves. If you want a day all to yourself, try celebrating your birthday. Listen, we’re all lonely and insecure. Even crazy optimistic whale-hating, bike-riding, tiny chicks. But check those feelings at the door and drink to be happy. I mean, have you even seen Wedding Crashers? It’s so easy to get laid at a wedding. If that's not the best reason to shave your (insert appropriate gender parts here), then I don't know what is.

So yes, I believe in love. I don’t necessarily believe in soul mates, but I believe that it is possible to find one person and spend the rest of your life with them, happily. The fact that you haven’t found that person is no cause for alarm. After the wedding, I was talking online to a friend of mine about dating. He was waiting for some chick he went on one date with to text him back. Apparently, they had plans to hang out that night, but she hadn’t sent him a message. So, naturally I gave him my standard advice “The only reason why she hasn’t texted back yet is that she’s dead. Google her name + “obituary” in a day or two, and then you’ll see she was too busy being a corpse to get back to you”.

Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, we all live in those blissful waters. I’ve convinced myself that so many guys I've gone on first dates ended up dying on their way back to the metro or government contracting job from a random stabbing, car fire, or Hanta virus, that I was able to get over their rejection. Now, I’m not saying my friend got rejected (She’ll text you back buddy, she just needs to wake up from that coma), but I’m also saying that you have to put yourself out there, again and again. I’ve been rejected more than a kidney with the wrong blood type, but that doesn’t mean I feel like I’m hopeless. When I mentioned my rate of rejection to my friend, he said that it was different because I go on so many more dates, thus meaning I have more options. The only thing I can think of to reply is a quote from the great Thomas Edison, “I haven't failed, I've found 10,000 ways that don't work”. 

I may not have screwed 10,000 [light bulb] failures, but I’m willing to put in 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration to get there. So chin up everyone, your bright light bulb is on its way. Get drunk at weddings, but don't get sullen. The world’s smallest violin isn’t playing at the wedding for you, it’s playing for the happy couple who just want to fucking hear “Endless Love”. Raise your glass, L’Chaim, Mazel Tov! Just kidding—the Black Eyed Peas are terrible too.

Ten chicks I'd hook up with from young adult books that have been turned into movies

In my last post, I promised to have a discussion regarding the hotness of Kristen Stewart. I never want to disappoint my fans, but I also realized that I could expand on this topic much further. So, ladies and gentleman, I present to you (after much deliberation):

The Current List of Ten Chicks (in no particular order) I'd Hook Up With From My Favorite Young Adult Books That Have Been Turned Into Movies


1. Kristen Stewart as Bella Swan in the Twilight series

Okay, I actually hated the Twilight books and the movies. I am wary about listing them in this category but Kristen Stewart is just so.damn.hot. Seriously. I don't give a shit about Bella and her angst with those cold, creepy vampires. The books are so poorly written that I wanted to red pen the entire novel or burn them. But, since I read them, and saw the first movie, I feel obligated to put Kristen Stewart on here. Kristen, not Bella, looks good in eyeliner, which, as someone who cannot put eyeliner on without causing a stye, is very hot. Kristen gives me that whole 'I don't give a fuck' look and I know she'd be a pain in the ass with her smirking, but I can't stop looking at her and wanting to try to talk to her. I'm really excited to see her in Snow White because she might be the most bangable of them all.

2. Emma Watson as Hermione Granger in the (later) Harry Potter series.

I really admire Hermione and wish that I was half the woman she was. Not only is she super intelligent, but she's a great friend, brave, and hooked up with a hot Quidditch star. She might be a bit of an insufferable know-it-all, but with the goods that she has, I think we can let that slide. Emma Watson has a new short haircut that I find very cute. She's smart and confident, and she's never the topic of horrible Hollywood gossip. Like her Hermione counterpart, she knows how to break the rules without really getting into trouble. It sucks that she gets with pathetic Ron at the end, but whatever. That's why I can create my own fanfic with an HG/SR pairing.

3. Emma Watson as Sam in "The Perks of Being a Wallflower"

Okay, I know it's totally cheating to have Emma Watson twice, but the truth is, I've wanted to hook up with her character in The Perks of Being a Wallflower long before they even cast her in the role. Actually, the movie isn't out yet, but I'm so excited that one of my favorite angsty YA novels is being turned into a movie that I had to include it. Emma plays Sam, a high school senior with a gay step-brother. The narrator, Charlie, instantly falls in love with Sam's brashness and honesty. She's sexually confident but also vulnerable. Stephen Chbosky created a beautiful character that I relate to because we are both secretly screwed up. I wouldn't just wham bam thank you ma'am Sam, but I'd really want to know her and create a lasting connection. Or at least make out while writing "I love you" on an typewriter. Sorry to get sappy.

4. Liv Tyler as Arwen Evenstar in The Lord of the Rings series

So I have to admit that I only read the Fellowship of the Ring, but I did see all of the movies. I was a fan of the book but even more of a fan of the excellent casting for the movie. Arwen has that amazing mythical innocence that only a Tolkien movie can capture. She may be half-elven but she's a full bodied hottie. I was immediately intrigued by her complicated love story with Aragorn, and even though she was a minor character, her presence lit up the screen. I mean, sure Peter Jackson probably invented a couple of scenes for her, but who's complaining? Never has a chick wearing this many clothes in Middle Earth been so hot. One does not simply look this good when being surrounded by hobbits. 

5. Anna Popplewell as Susan Pevensie in The Chronicles of Narnia series

I'm very aware that the characters in all of The Chronicles of Narnia series were probably around 14-16, but Anna is definitely over 18, and therefore I don't feel like such a creeper. Anyways, Susan is a lot like Hermione--smart, level-headed, and confident. She's a great older sister and hunter. On top of keeping Narnia safe from evil queens and being heartbroken over Prince Caspian, she just looks so good. I think the name  Queen Susan the Gentle doesn't capture her fierce personality. Dawn Treader? I hardly know her!

6. Angelina Jolie as Lisa Rowe in "Girl, Interrupted"

Angelina Jolie is like George Clooney--just timeless beauty. She only gets better with age. I cannot think of one bad role Angelina has been in, but I had to pick this movie from one of my favorite young adult books--Girl, Interrupted. Angelina plays Lisa, a sociopath in a mental institution with main character Susanna Kaysen, played by Winona Ryder (not bad looking either). Lisa constantly escapes the hospital, ignores Whoopi Goldberg's tough love, and is generally a demented pain in the ass. She's pretty evil, but she also has this intrinsic quality that I can't get enough of. She's sexy and she knows it, even before LMFAO sang about it. You really hate her in the movie because she's trouble but you're so captivated by her deranged brain that you can't help but want to make out with her, and smoke pot with her druggie friends.

7. Blake Lively as Bridget Vreeland in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series

I absolutely cannot get enough of Blake Lively. I loved her in The Town, I currently love her in Gossip Girl (another fine series of YA novels), but I first experienced her hotness in the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Blake plays Bridget, a tall athletic girl from Bethesda, whose mother committed suicide, and has a pretty fucked up family life as a result. Bridget loses her virginity super early and generally is an impulsive train wreck, but she's got this amazing sensitive side that is hard to ignore. Plus, she has killer legs. Bridget Vreeland is that friend you have that you're jealous of but also feel bad for because of all the shit they've had to deal with. Blake plays Bridget just as I imagined her in the series, and even thought we'd be height-mismatched, I'm willing to risk it if she is.

8. Alexis Bledel as Lena Kaligaris in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series

Alternatively, from the same series, you have the brunette goddess Alexis Bledel playing Lena Kaligaris. Now, I never really watched Gilmore Girls, but I've always found Alexis to be a tremendous actress with stunning eyes. Lena is almost the opposite of the above Bridget: quiet, artistic, calm, and rational. She believes in true love and has a good set of Greek values. She meets a pretty hot guy named Kostos in the first book and their love saga follows all the way into the final fourth book. I like Lena because she's emotionally strong, even if you just want to shake her and yell "Just fuck him, already!"Alexis Bledel has the otherworldly appearance like Arwen, and thus, my attraction increases. Or, I might be hypnotized by her blue eyes. Can't.Stop.Staring.

9. Keira Knightley as Elizabeth Bennet in "Pride and Prejudice"

Nothing like a Jane Austen book to get women feeling lusty. The truth is, like Angelina Jolie, Keira Knightley is just amazing in everything. While I was a huge fan of the BBC miniseries of Pride and Prejudice, I really enjoyed the American version as well. As Elizabeth Bennet, Keira has to play a headstrong girl in a family of five other women with a crazy mother who just needs to marry them off or deal with poverty. She meets Mr. Darcy, played by  Matthew Macfadyen, and thinks he's a snob. Well, they both learn a lot about each other during a series of chance encounters at dances, churches, manors and pubs, and discover that the other isn't what they originally thought they were like. I've always wanted to be like Elizabeth because she doesn't take shit from anyone and is fiercely loyal to her family. These are traits I try to emulate, but I look nowhere near as hot as Keira. Therefore, when my favorite character is played by my favorite actress, it's hard not to want to be with her. Plus, she'll talk dirty to me in a British accent.

10. Anne Hathaway as Mia Thermopolis in "The Princess Diaries"

The Princess Diaries was the first time I ever saw Anne Hathaway in a movie, and I've truly enjoyed her in every movie I've seen since, including Brokeback Mountain, Love and Other Drugs, and Catwoman. In the Princess Diaries, high school girl Mia Thermopolis finds out she's heir to the throne in some weird country in Europe called Genovia. She's pretty klutzy and obnoxious, but as fates will have it, she has to take princess lessons from her grandmother, who is absolutely terrifying in the books, but lovable as Julie Andrews in the movies. Mia undergoes a transformation from gawky teenager to a pretty sleek looking princess. It's a wonder what the flat iron and some mascara will do. Anyways, she has to deal with her desire to become popular and date the hot senior, Josh Richter, while also battling her affections with dorky but sort of hot Michael Moscovitz, her best friend Lily's brother. Oh high school. Anyways, Mia learns all about friendship and family, blah blah, but she's pretty smoking as a verbally incontinent ditz. I'd like to be part of her royal court. 

Honorable Mentions: 

Emma Stone as Olive in "Easy A"

Okay, this is kind of cheating since "Easy A" is only based off of Nathaniel Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter" and there already was a movie. But, I didn't find Demi Moore that great in it, and plus, c'mon, how can you deny Emma Stone? She plays Olive, an innocuous high schooler that gains the untrue reputation of losing her virginity. The right wing crazies, led by Amanda Bynes, chastise her, while pretty much all of the guys pay her in gift certificates to Home Depot to say that she took their virginity. Olive holds onto her V-card throughout the whole movie, which is pretty admirable. She eventually gets together with her best friend, played by the same guy who plays Dan Humphrey in Gossip Girl. Anyways, it's definitely a stretch from "The Scarlet Letter", but Emma Stone is super hot. She's got the eyeliner thing going, and is a way less insane redhead than Lindsey Lohan. I like Emma because she'd make me laugh, which is the hottest thing a girl can do. 

Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen in "The Hunger Games"

I can't officially add Jennifer on my list because I haven't finished reading "The Hunger Games". I cheated and just saw the movie. So Jennifer, you're an honorable mention until I finally finish the remaining chapters of the book on my bed. But I had to put you on my list, I mean, come on, the girl is on on fire!

And there's my ten-ish. Did I miss anyone you think should be on this list? Let me know! And as always, the book is always better than the movie, until you see how hot the chicks are in real life. 

You’re less likely to get struck by lightning, and other benefits of being short

I have to apologize for taking an extended leave of absence from this blog. In between moving, entertaining many visitors, road races, and walking in on people having sex in the bathroom at Waffle House, I’ve had a super busy past couple of weeks. Also, instead of balancing the two, I’ve been writing more in the infamous ‘beer book’, so much to the point that I’m beginning to hear it narrated by Bob Saget in my head. Oh, that’s right, I’ve also watched 3 seasons of How I Met Your Mother. Dammit Ted.  I anxiously await the day my writing will break free from his pretentious narrations and I can start a sentence without the introduction, “Kids, let me tell you about the time I tried a new beer, drank vodka shots, sang with a band, drank Corona and more vodka shots, and vomited on the hood of my car, on my way to a different bar to try another new beer”.

In fact, I want to take a page out of Barney’s book. That’s right, for the next couple of paragraphs, I am going to write about how awesome I am. Okay, specifically, how awesome short chicks are.

I went out to the movies earlier this week with my roommate Dani and my sister Karen. We encountered a preview for the upcoming “Show White and the Huntsman”. The hotness of Kristen Stewart a discussion for another post, I wanted to know what happened to the dwarves. Maybe I’m spoiled on Disney or poorly misinformed on the real fairy tale, but those dwarves were instrumental to Snow White’s survival in the woods. Plus, she taught Grumpy how to feel again. If that’s not a heartwarming tale of love across overworked dwarves with developing emphysema, I don’t know what is. 


Anyways, it got me to thinking about why short people get the ‘short’ end of the stick, and if they are somehow less of a person. Most of the abuse I've personally encountered or seen to others can be seen in this video here. It’s another one of those “Shit People Say to Short Girls” but I have had over half of these said to me. Including the shit about booster seats, baby hands, being first to drown in a flood, and ordering off kid’s menus.

At a commanding 5 feet (er, 4 feet, 11 and ¾ inches), I’ve also had people tell me I have the personality of someone at least 5’4. I don’t know if this is a compliment or not. Does it mean I literally must be ‘this’ tall to have the personality attributes of an adult, despite what my license proclaims my age is? (Yes Quarry House, I’m STILL over 21, no matter how many times April checks my ID). Does that mean taller people have more personality—that there is an exponential growth the more inches you accrue? If that’s so, I want you to explain Andre the Giant’s limited range of emotions. If I had three selfish wishes that I couldn’t spend on world peace or saving baby seals, my set would not include one to grow taller. And here’s why.

First off, and most obvious, being short is absolutely adorable. People treat you like an orphaned animal and scoop you up to carry you. Seriously, all the time. It doesn’t matter where you’re going--you will spontaneously get scooped and placed in a new walking direction. Think about how many times you wish someone would carry you and now promptly get jealous at how many times I’ve been privy to countless piggyback rides. People bench press me. I always get to stand in the front row of group pictures.  Awesome.

Pity points aside, being short is incredibly practical and actually beneficial to others around me. I’ve had my good friend Aaron sing the stupid song, “Short People Have No Reason to Live”, but who else can crawl under beds and retrieve loose beer bottles? Surely not tall people! Yet, a tiny chick can reach such forbidden depths. I’m an instant armrest for all. On airplanes and buses, coach seats feel like first class for me. The seat behind the driver seat in my car has more legroom than a real first class seat.  I can pack more clothes in suitcases because I have 5 inches less of denim in my jeans. I can buy my clothes in the girls’ section at Kohl’s and save $10 average on said tiny jeans.

I do have to admit the one of my biggest fears some time ago was that any guy interested in me must be a pedophile, since I look like I’m 12. Or, that whenever I’m on a date, people will think it is “take your daughter to work day”.  Apparently, I can put these anxieties to rest because most guys find short chicks attractive. Let’s face it: I’m incredibly bitchy and neurotic. However, these traits are somehow more endearing when they come a hobbit.

To prove this, I found an article from 2002 stating that short women were more likely to be in long-term relationships and have kids than taller women:

“Shorter women are more likely to have long-term relationships with men, and more likely to have children, according to a study of 10,000 people born in the UK in 1958…The average height for a British woman is 1.62 metres (5 feet, 4 inches). But those who were between 1.51 and 1.58 metres were most likely to be married and to have children by the age of 42. This relationship held true even after accounting for social class” (You can read the rest of the article. ).

Then again, this survey is ten years old and written by a group of people who use the stupid metric system. I have no idea how many metERs I am tall, so I want to find some more believable facts.

I was intrigued to find that tall women are actually more scared of short women than the reverse. One blog suggested that short women be fined for dating tall people. It was implied that maybe we [short women] should pick up someone our own size. Written in Amazona, (Link to the blog) the author believes that guys only date short women because men are insecure and feel emasculated by tall chicks. If that’s the case, well high five bro. As a petite Barney Stinson, obviously it’s my goal to bang as many insecure guys with low self esteem as possible.

I’m kidding. This article made me feel mildly guilty, and then promptly more awesome, for being such a five-foot threat. Apparently, this author believes the shorter you are, the more you take advantage of everyone. While I can’t speak for the other short whores out there, I certainly don’t date just to ‘stick it to’ tall women and help guys out with their Mommy issues. That being said, I know plenty of >5’5” sluts. I have yet to find a convincing reason that scientifically states why short chicks are seemingly more successful, outside of some vague associations with evolution.

So, I encountered another British article on a phenomenon called the Tinker Bell Syndrome. It asked, can being small in stature drive ambition? I don’t know if I’m more or less ambitious than the average person, but the logic of the article made sense. Psychologist David Lewis, from MindLab international, stated, (and I’m keeping the stupid British spellings intact):

“In evolutionary terms, small women are as favoured as tall men: females between 4ft 9in and 5ft 1in and men who are 6ft 1in or more are the most likely to marry and have children. But the downside of this is that men – and society in general – will often infantilise petite women, underestimating their intelligence, their strength and their ability to perform even the simplest task. Men, it has to be said, do like to be looked up to by their women.” Ahh…the insecurities of men again!

Lewis believes that this ‘infantilising’ of small women can breed a sense of resentment and rebellion that makes them more ambitious and more flamboyant than average-sized females. He continues, 


“It’s likely that being small could result in a woman developing a Tinker Bell complex. Certainly it explains why we have so many famous examples of tiny women who are larger than life”. The article points to powerful women like Lady GaGa, Kylie Minogue, Dolly Parton, and Jada Pinkett Smith, who have done so much with so little height.

“Funny, fearless and fun-loving, the typical Tinker Bell can sometimes be a little manipulative and self-pitying when, in fact, the last thing they need is pity. However much they might protest, and however high the heels they don, Tinker Bells know they have an advantage in life. Even in bare feet, they are capable of achieving heights beyond the reach of many women who physically dwarf them.

You can read the rest of the article here.

And that’s my case. If you aren’t convinced that short chicks are awesome (if not psychologically unstable from their mental and physical high heels), then keep putting them down. You’ll realize that we won’t shrink, but one day, we’ll actually overpower you. I many not be able to reach the top shelves in my pantry, but I sure as hell won’t stop scrambling on top of my counter to lean on my microwave until I get a can of baby corn--which is way better than full grown corn. 

It's Guy Love!!!

Nobody knows more about knowing less about Thomas Jefferson than my roommate Alex. When we went to Harpers Ferry last year for a day of ‘sampling’ local ales, touring, and hiking, I was privileged to hear some nuggets of wisdom about Thomas Jefferson. For instance, Thomas Jefferson invented ice. Thomas Jefferson used to use his old bed for a kayak down the Potomac and beat Native Americans in boat races. Thomas Jefferson invented hot sauce, but only after his red hair and George Washington inspired him. Every now and then, one would be outlandish enough to believe. Therefore, I could find no better person to quote now than TJ as I struggle to write this update.

“The happiness of the domestic fireside is the first boon of Heaven; and it is well it is so, since it is that which is the lot of the mass of mankind”.

As many of you know, I’m moving out of my house today. I moved in just over a year and a half ago. I had just graduated college and I needed a temporary place to live while I figured out that whole ‘job’ and ‘life’ thing. A Craigslist ad from a guy named Paul saved the day—I found a 3 month sublet. When I carried my three dozen pairs of shoes into this group house with my fake nails (God, what was I thinking?!?), I was relieved. I knew I found a place that I’d be able to just have time to sort things out. I didn’t know I’d find a family.

I say this as Alex is beating by over 100 points on Words with Friends, and I hate him. In fact, you don’t always love your family. I’m sure my roommates never loved that time I drink so much at a band show I made them come to that I vomited on the hood of my car. Thanks for holding my hair back Clyde and getting me a McMuffin the next day. Which I also threw up. I’m sure Brock doesn’t love my 30 minute showers, complete with singing, curly hair shedding, subsequent drain cloggage, and flooded floors in the morning. I routinely verbally abuse Alex and ruin his favorite NPR radio shows. Maybe this isn’t what a family does, because it sure doesn’t sound like my biological one in Connecticut.

I look at that Thomas Jefferson quote, and realize just how apt it is to describe my three guys. Brock is a fireman. I’ve asked him countless times how hot it needs to be in a fire to burn teeth, or how you can get away with arson. Brock’s told me just how many trucks and ladders (I hope those are the right words) for a five alarm fire. I’ve learned life advice too, from my fireman roommate. He’s taught me about thread count, how many ‘points’ are in a beer, how to get a good Pinot Noir, where to listen to Barenaked Ladies acoustic, and my favorite, how to eventually be a good parent.

Speaking of fire, I also remember the carbon monoxide incident in the house. Clyde and I started a fire in the fireplace. We took pictures of Penny with the fire and it looked like a Christmas card. Clyde specifically told me to shut the flue before I went to bed, so I did. The fire wasn’t fully out. I woke up to Alex pounding on my door, and saying the carbon monoxide detector was going off wayyy more than usual. That’s right, we used to have a detector that beeped once every five minutes. We couldn’t figure out how to tell it to stop. So we got used to it. Which was why I slept through it when it was really going off. Or I was being poisoned by the gas. Anyways, I got to call the fire department and have a huge fire truck with five firemen come into our house with Ghostbusters technology. We had to wake up Clyde and Penny, because, as it turns out, they had toxic levels building up in the room. How’s that for a friendship fire?

I could sit and write all of my favorite memories from my roommates. Well, I am. They’ll be in the beer book. The point I’m trying to make is that my domestic fireside is something I will be eternally grateful for. People make plans, and God laughs. If you had told me ten years ago I’d be living in a house with guys older than me, I’d call shenanigans. Actually, that’s one of my favorite games to play with my roommates: What was I doing in fifth grade when they were doing ____ out of college? Besides not knowing archaic cartoon shows, it wasn’t a big deal. When you find the people who make you feel the happiest, paltry things like age aren’t an issue. Or when everyone’s heard the other have sex in the house. Yeah, it’s happened.

So, as I’m tempted to quote Semisonic’s song, “Closing Time”, I still feel sad. That’s not to say I’m not ecstatic about moving in with my best friend (and spouse, according to Rite Aid) Dani. I’m eager to begin my Dani stories. I’m a sucker for a good comparison (metaphors be with you!), and I do see my life as an unfolding book. Perhaps it’s my desperate desire to be a writer, but it is always hard to see a chapter you love finish. You might anticipate the next one, but you’ll always anxiously reread the previous. Luckily, Facebook seems to be keeping a good record of everything. And I never forget anything, ever.

Alex and I are bickering about Lionel Ritchie, and I think it’s good to end here. The Show is heading for a finale. I’ll live for reruns but for now, I’m getting ready to star in a new sitcom of Two Broke Girls.

Valentine's Day the "Right" Way!

(This post contains some sensitive material. I don’t want my words to upset anyone or trigger anything, but I am discussing birth control and sexual assault. Please be aware, and make the right choice on whether to continue reading.)

Just to startle myself back to the days when I didn’t use spell check on my blog, I reread last year’s post on Valentine’s Day. It’s not really worth going back to, unless you want to read my depressing rant on how every day sucks equally to Valentine’s Day when you’re single. Oh, and then I came out in the next post about my love for Penny, the puppy I used to live with. I can’t decide what’s worse: a borderline manic-depressive outlook on life in the month of February, or carefully veiled bestiality. Either way, before a suicide hotline calls me or I get arrested by the Humane Society, I want to take a different tone for 2/4/2012.

Congratulations everyone, we’ve made it this far in the year 2012. We’re not dead yet, and we have to get through get another V-Day. Ignoring the irony that this holiday can be abbreviated VD, I have mixed messages about this day. On one hand, I love the flowers my Dad sent my Mom on Saturday with the message “Why wait for Valentine’s Day?” Nausea aside for my parents being ‘that couple’, I see the other side of the spectrum. I won’t disclose names, but I know people who are planning to spend the day/night drunk with the hopes of picking up a random at their local bar. Or, you could just take the middle road—it’s just a normal day with an excess of pink and red hearts.

I never got the point of Valentine’s Day. It’s this one stupid day where everyone is supposed to be on better behavior in his or her relationship. Then again, I’ve always said this, but this is the first year I’m having a ‘real’ Valentine’s Day. Even though I make idiotic puns with his name (I call him ‘bath mat’ when he’s in the shower), Matt and I are determined to have a romantic Valentine’s Day. This entails heading out for a delicious meal of duck tonight and going on a ski trip this weekend. It combines all of my favorite things: game meat, rich white people sports, and, of course, Matt.

The thing is, even with all of these fun, albeit sappy, events, I can’t help but breakdown this holiday and turn it into something bigger than it is. What do people do on Valentine’s Day? Chances are, they’re having sex with someone that matters to them. It should be wonderful, worry-free, sex. Yet, if Conservatives have their way, Valentine’s Day sex might be ruined. That’s right, we live in a country where babies would be conceived on February 14^th, instead of food baby conception from too much chocolate truffle consumption.

I am ticked off about the birth control debate in this country. It shouldn’t have to be an issue.  At this moment, most of us, should we desire it, have access to a myriad of methods of contraception. This right is in danger. While I don’t believe that religious organizations should be forced to provide birth control if it goes against their doctrines, I also believe that this should be an accessible service that is provided to women by neutral health providers and ::gasp:: the government. The thing that most Conservatives don’t realize is that the small amount of money it takes to provide birth control is nothing in comparison to the cost it would take in welfare programs to help new mothers raise children they are not ready to have. Except for the fact they’re cutting these welfare programs too, basically telling women they have no support at all. All this from “pro-lifers”.

I know birth control is controversial. Ironically, I used to be very pro-life until I took my head out of my ass and realized that it doesn’t matter what I think. I don’t rejoice in abortions, but my opinions should in no way impact someone else’s choice. And I expect the same courtesy. Don’t tell anyone this secret but you can be pro-choice and never get an abortion. It’s extremely rare, but it is true—most pro-choice people are just fighting for abortion rights, not lining up to get one themselves.

When I hear morons like Rick Santorum say, “Many of the Christian faith have said, well, that’s okay, contraception is okay. It’s not okay. It’s a license to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be”, I wonder what he thinks sex is supposed to be? Strictly for baby making? Once on the weekdays and twice on Sundays? Why does our country need people like Rick Santorum  ruining sex? Oh right, because when you do get pregnant, it’s all a part of the Almighty’s plan.

When asked by CNN's Piers Morgan what he would do if his own daughter approached him, begging for an abortion after having been raped, Santorum explained that he would counsel her to "accept this horribly created" baby, because it was still a gift from God, even if given in a "broken" way. Good ol’ Tricky Ricky said:

"Well, you can make the argument that if she doesn't have this baby, if she kills her child, that that, too, could ruin her life. And this is not an easy choice, I understand that. As horrible as the way that that son or daughter and son was created, it still is her child. And whether she has that child or she doesn't, it will always be her child, and she will always know that.”

Santorum’s strategy is fighting trauma, with trauma. While I wish I could combat horrible crimes like rape with the quaint ‘when life gives you lemons, make lemonade’ approach, I can’t. Try as hard as I can this Valentine’s Day, Santorum’s words keep running through my head. Rick Santorum can never get pregnant against his will. Rick Santorum is not a woman. Yet, he feels he is somehow the chosen voice to speak on the issue of women’s health, or lack thereof. This man is running for President, and thousands of people are voting for him. Does anyone else see the horrible reality in this?

Therefore, as much as it is supposed to be a romantic day, I am turning February 14^th into a day of activism and education for all of my friends and family on birth control and rape. These topics are poorly understood but widely discussed. Make the conscious effort to be informed about birth control. It may not be the right choice for you right now, but for others, it’s a lifesaver. Please, be aware that no matter what, it is a woman’s body. She has the right to have as much or as little sex as she wants, regardless of what Rick Santorum and others say.

I implore everyone to enjoy his or her sexuality in a safe and gratifying way this Valentine’s Day. I love you.