Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Friday, December 4, 2009
Why You Shouldn't Like "Twilight" (or at least why you shouldn't be in love with Edward Cullen)
Unless you have been living under a rock or perhaps in Iraq you know that "New Moon," the second book in the "Twilight Saga" to become a movie, is all the world seems to be talking about. Even those who refuse to see the movies or read the book know what Team Edward and Team Jacob are (besides stupid). I am not a fan of "Twilight." Not only am I not a fan, I abhor it. When I first read the books, I was excited about them. Then I let them sink in a little bit, then I saw the first movie. I couldn't believe how I missed the undertones of domestic violence--I must have been preoccupied with that whole abstinence thing.
As a card-carrying womanist with a BA in women's and gender studies (and awesomeness), I've gone on many a rant to whomever will listen about my feelings toward the unhealthy relationships displayed in Stephenie Meyer's novels. In a recent email to my young teenage cousin, I said that the "Twilight" craze made me crazy, she asked if I had even read the books. "They're so romantic!" she explained. I was compelled to write back, explaining to her why Bella and Edward's relationship is anything but romantic, except for romanticizing domestic abuse. Here's what I wrote to her:
As a card-carrying womanist with a BA in women's and gender studies (and awesomeness), I've gone on many a rant to whomever will listen about my feelings toward the unhealthy relationships displayed in Stephenie Meyer's novels. In a recent email to my young teenage cousin, I said that the "Twilight" craze made me crazy, she asked if I had even read the books. "They're so romantic!" she explained. I was compelled to write back, explaining to her why Bella and Edward's relationship is anything but romantic, except for romanticizing domestic abuse. Here's what I wrote to her:
Monday, August 24, 2009
Am I crazy...
...or is Robert Pattinson the inspiration for James Cameron's sparkly blue tiger people?
I'm just saying.
I'm just saying.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Facebook, where everyone sees everything.
It's been way too long since I've blogged. My apologies to my one reader who follows me on Twitter anyway.
I have a new job, far away from chlorine and angry parents. So far it's been great. A daily commute to NYC is hardly ideal, but I'd be foolish and childish to complain. One of my responsibilities at the new job is to monitor the Facebook account of my show. So Facebook and I are pretty tight. When I come home at night, the last thing I should want to do is get on the computer and spend even MORE time on Facebook and Twitter, but of course I do it anyway.
Tonight as I was clicking through the tubes and stalking on ye olde FB, I came across a picture that both horrified and delighted me. My friend was "highlighted" by getting tagged in an album posted by a work friend of hers. Because the work friend didn't mark her pictures as private, I was able to click through the entire album.
Now, why would I want to do that? you ask. I wish I knew. I only knew one person in the entire album. She was in a grand total of 10 (out of 80+) pictures. Yet I kept clicking through. Then I found this beauty:
I have a new job, far away from chlorine and angry parents. So far it's been great. A daily commute to NYC is hardly ideal, but I'd be foolish and childish to complain. One of my responsibilities at the new job is to monitor the Facebook account of my show. So Facebook and I are pretty tight. When I come home at night, the last thing I should want to do is get on the computer and spend even MORE time on Facebook and Twitter, but of course I do it anyway.
Tonight as I was clicking through the tubes and stalking on ye olde FB, I came across a picture that both horrified and delighted me. My friend was "highlighted" by getting tagged in an album posted by a work friend of hers. Because the work friend didn't mark her pictures as private, I was able to click through the entire album.
Now, why would I want to do that? you ask. I wish I knew. I only knew one person in the entire album. She was in a grand total of 10 (out of 80+) pictures. Yet I kept clicking through. Then I found this beauty:
Saturday, May 16, 2009
My twousandth.
I am celebrating my 1,000 tweet on Twitter by a blog post to express the emotions I could not constrain to 140 characters. And yes, in response to Tiffany Leigh, if it weren't obvious by now I do attach more significance to a nice round number.
SO my twousandth (word play!) is dedicated to why I loathe, detest and despise Megan Fox.
Megan Fox is hot. Annoyingly so. But she knows that. When women are that attractive, it does something to their brain. They have a hugely false sense of entitlement, which we occasionally fall victim to without realizing what we're doing. But like I said, she's hot. So, it's not entirely her fault and in some instances, her behavior is forgiven. When someone who falls between a 4 and a 7 (I'm being nice with the 7) acts like that, it's entirely unacceptable.
Megan Fox also talks about things as though she's the expert, when really she probably wouldn't know her ass from her elbow. For example, earlier this week when she was talking about getting a sleeve tattooed from her elbow to her shoulder, Fox mentioned Ewan McGregor's sleeves. Well there's a little bit of justice on that one.
Fox is also a bitch. She's the kind of girl who lies about everything unnecessarily, just to make herself seem cooler. Poor thing doesn't realize that if she'd probably be pretty cool if she hadn't been doing that her whole life. Megan Fox is the kind of girl that always complains about not having any good friends while acting like a victim the whole time. She doesn't have friends because she's a bitch and treats people like shit.
Megan Fox always sleeps with the people you like. Even if you said a long time ago, "hey I'm kind of into Brian Austin Green, so if you would please not sleep with him, I'd super appreciate it," she'll go out of her way to do it to Brian Austin Green.
Also, Megan Fox has bad tattoos. She thinks they make her cool. They do not make her cool. Finally, she'll complain about how she can never get a date, yet every other night she's on her back with her knees by her ears.
Hey, Megan Fox! YOUR TATTOOS ARE UGLY AND YOU ALWAYS LOOK LIKE SOMETHING SMELLS LIKE DIRTY LITTER BOX.
SO my twousandth (word play!) is dedicated to why I loathe, detest and despise Megan Fox.
Megan Fox is hot. Annoyingly so. But she knows that. When women are that attractive, it does something to their brain. They have a hugely false sense of entitlement, which we occasionally fall victim to without realizing what we're doing. But like I said, she's hot. So, it's not entirely her fault and in some instances, her behavior is forgiven. When someone who falls between a 4 and a 7 (I'm being nice with the 7) acts like that, it's entirely unacceptable.
Megan Fox also talks about things as though she's the expert, when really she probably wouldn't know her ass from her elbow. For example, earlier this week when she was talking about getting a sleeve tattooed from her elbow to her shoulder, Fox mentioned Ewan McGregor's sleeves. Well there's a little bit of justice on that one.
Fox is also a bitch. She's the kind of girl who lies about everything unnecessarily, just to make herself seem cooler. Poor thing doesn't realize that if she'd probably be pretty cool if she hadn't been doing that her whole life. Megan Fox is the kind of girl that always complains about not having any good friends while acting like a victim the whole time. She doesn't have friends because she's a bitch and treats people like shit.
Megan Fox always sleeps with the people you like. Even if you said a long time ago, "hey I'm kind of into Brian Austin Green, so if you would please not sleep with him, I'd super appreciate it," she'll go out of her way to do it to Brian Austin Green.
Also, Megan Fox has bad tattoos. She thinks they make her cool. They do not make her cool. Finally, she'll complain about how she can never get a date, yet every other night she's on her back with her knees by her ears.
Hey, Megan Fox! YOUR TATTOOS ARE UGLY AND YOU ALWAYS LOOK LIKE SOMETHING SMELLS LIKE DIRTY LITTER BOX.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Twitter-less
A week or so ago, I decided that I was over-tweeting, the cyber version of over-sharing. As much as I love Twitter (follow me bitches), I am fully aware of its ridiculousness. It's absurd to tweet every single thought one has, but I was doing it. So, as a test I thought I would start writing down everything I was tempted to post to Twitter.
Most of the thoughts that came out were just as inane and worthless as my other tweets, so I am glad I didn't post them. Even though I agree with Tom's column about keeping tweets uncensored, I do edit myself--as we all should. We don't go around blurting out everything we think. Although today, I did scream at a car as it sped down College Avenue. "THAT WAS A CROSSWALK ASSHOLE!"
Regardless, I try to avoid tweeting a.) my emo self-loathing thoughts, b.) my frivolous annoyances with my roommates and c.) anything to do with whomever I have a crush on. Here's why:
a.) No one likes a Debbie Downer, especially me. I'm not going to broadcast to my 80 or so followers that I'm having a "fat day." Because even though it's Twitter--who effing cares that I feel ugly on any given day, that's fishing for @-replies of people saying "no, you're beautiful." Which I wouldn't receive anyway, thus making me feel even worse.
b.) Both of my roommates are on Twitter, even though one of them forgot she had an account. To post stupid frustrations about the hand towels not being folded the way I like, or the Brita pitcher being too close to empty for my preference comes across as passive-aggressive. I am fully aware that when things like the direction of the toilet paper roll frustrate me, it has less to do with the toilet paper than my general mood. So, I leave those out of my tweets.
c.) I also don't like tweeting about love interests, because it's also another passive-aggressive type thing to do. Also, it ain't your business.
Even though I shy away from those subject matters in the first place, the other tweets that make it into my updates could still use a second glance before I tweet away. That is where my experiment comes in. I'll be honest, I wasn't entirely tweet-free for the whole week, but nearly time I reached for my phone to text a tweet, I jotted it down instead.
Here I provide you with the transcribed highlights of my non-tweeting adventures over the past few days.
Most of the thoughts that came out were just as inane and worthless as my other tweets, so I am glad I didn't post them. Even though I agree with Tom's column about keeping tweets uncensored, I do edit myself--as we all should. We don't go around blurting out everything we think. Although today, I did scream at a car as it sped down College Avenue. "THAT WAS A CROSSWALK ASSHOLE!"
Regardless, I try to avoid tweeting a.) my emo self-loathing thoughts, b.) my frivolous annoyances with my roommates and c.) anything to do with whomever I have a crush on. Here's why:
a.) No one likes a Debbie Downer, especially me. I'm not going to broadcast to my 80 or so followers that I'm having a "fat day." Because even though it's Twitter--who effing cares that I feel ugly on any given day, that's fishing for @-replies of people saying "no, you're beautiful." Which I wouldn't receive anyway, thus making me feel even worse.
b.) Both of my roommates are on Twitter, even though one of them forgot she had an account. To post stupid frustrations about the hand towels not being folded the way I like, or the Brita pitcher being too close to empty for my preference comes across as passive-aggressive. I am fully aware that when things like the direction of the toilet paper roll frustrate me, it has less to do with the toilet paper than my general mood. So, I leave those out of my tweets.
c.) I also don't like tweeting about love interests, because it's also another passive-aggressive type thing to do. Also, it ain't your business.
Even though I shy away from those subject matters in the first place, the other tweets that make it into my updates could still use a second glance before I tweet away. That is where my experiment comes in. I'll be honest, I wasn't entirely tweet-free for the whole week, but nearly time I reached for my phone to text a tweet, I jotted it down instead.
Here I provide you with the transcribed highlights of my non-tweeting adventures over the past few days.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
In-Depth Analysis: Kia Soul Commercial
The other hamsters are running on their wheels, going nowhere. But the three other hamsters who have the Kia Soul can go anywhere. Judging by the way they're jamming to "Fort Knox" by Goldfish, they have soul on the inside, too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
