Unsettling but apt comparison of the day: sperm in the face and weddings

Amanda Hess explains how the fact that some ladies apparently enjoy "facials" is totes like getting married:

[B]ecause even though we all know it’s sexist as fuck, weddings—like facial ejaculation—still make some people happy.

I'd really rather not think of them as analogous, because EW. Have I mentioned that I'm getting married, BTW?* Because I am. Next summer. To Thrift Store Champion/Isaac/the I-Man/Beardface/that dude I'm always hanging out with. No creepy patriarchal property-transfer type traditions will be enacted. Also, no facials. See: Semen Facials Are Like Weddings (The Sexist). *In case you are one of the .23 people who I don't talk to frequently in real life who also happen to read this blog.

Last day of work, personal ramblings, and linkage

Fact: The Pretentious Ex-Boyfriend, the Perpetual Roommate, and I beat up an old printer of mine with a baseball bat that the PR had "borrowed" from the athletic department in front of the middle school across the street from our apartment one night. It was actually really hard to break pieces off of it, but we made up for it by playing "Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta" on some tiny speakers. And then we properly disposed of the debris.

Hey kids,

So... this is my last day of work. At my grownup desk job where I occasionally do data entry but mostly just fuck around on the internet while being paid too much money. The last several months of blogging have been a godsend. Seriously. And maybe it has something to do with the fact that I went back on antidepressants right around the same time I got serious about the blog, but I'm just going to go ahead and give the interwebs some credit for keeping me from hating my job too much and letting it completely suck my soul away. But anyhow, I'm going "back to school," as they say. Which makes me feel kind of old. To be able to say that. But I am. Things are going to be a little crazy for the next month, so I highly doubt I'll be able to top July's 50 posts. Anyway, this weekend I'm going on a random trip to Chicago to visit A Certain Someone Who Has Requested to Never Be Mentioned on This Blog (CSWHRNBMTB) and the Perpetual Roommate. I'll be back late Monday probably, so don't cry if there are no posts. Then I will have a few days to get my shit together for the SCANDINAVIAN TOUR I'm taking with the Perpetual Roommate, after which I have to pack and move to Ohio. And start grad school. And pretend to know what I'm doing.

So here's some links to get you through the weekend. Don't miss me too much while I am off galivanting in my newly-unemployed state!

-Amanda posits the idea that if we're going to interpret the Bible and take Christian doctrine literally, it really looks like god is kind of an asshole. He's playing games, trying to keep the upper hand, making sure he's got control of the situation. Luckily The Sexy Gay Jesus is aware of his male privilege and doesn't abuse it. But then again, I'm not trying to date SGJesus, what with him being gay and all. And Jesus. God, who doesn't return your phone calls. (Pandagon)

-Rachel Sklar over at HuffPo's Eat the Press compiled a sweet set of clips showing how Jon Stewart and the Daily Show crew have been all over sleazy Ted Stevens and his craziness and corruption for ages. It's pretty great. Jon Stewart Knew Ted Stevens Was Up to No Good. (Huffington Post)

-Paul Campos has great take on the whole "OMG the kidz is too fat!" moral panic. Not only is it a manufactured "problem," but as always, the pharmaceutical industry is both the instigator and the benefactor. Check it out. The Real Drug War. (Lawyers, Guns and Money)

-Kieran Healy discusses how we deal with douchebags in public places. Like ones who cut in line and expect people's inclination to avoid conflict to outweigh their sense of fairness. I myself tend to go for the resentful passive-aggressive approach to assholes who stand in front of me at concerts when my friends and I were clearly here first, like, since before the opening band, and WHY IS YOUR BOYFRIEND SO GODDAMN TALL?! No I will not take a picture of you!* Anyway, it's interesting how angry those kinds of situations can get you; angrier than all of the great injustices in the world. Because it's immediate. It's blatant. And whatever it is, it's totally not worth them being a dick about it. Norm Enforcement Is Hard, But People Do It Anyway. (Crooked Timber)

-Over at Jezebel, SadieStein really gets to the heart of the "Pretty Girl" phenomenon. As in, some girls are "Pretty Girls," and some girls (who very well may be totally hot themselves) are "Smart Girls" and/or "Funny Girls." Some of us were a little awkward in junior high and spent our time trying to write the most morbid stories or wear the most random item of clothing taken from our parents' old '70s stash in the basement. But you know what, I had a lot of fun. And though I now recognize my inherent hotness, I'm glad I've got other shit going for me. I like to think about how I am an awesome internet blogger and about to be paid to be a graduate student and how the hottest/most popular girl in our seventh grade class married some guy from our hometown a couple of years ago, and they both work at her dad's restaurant chain. Not that I'm gloating. SMALL BUT RELATED TANGENT: I used to date someone who would constantly tell me how hot I was. That's nice, sure. But I definitely felt pressure to maintain it, you know? I'm pretty lazy, so I only took it so far, but if let yourself be valued for attractiveness like that, you start to invest yourself in it too much. And god knows I don't need to think about my appearance any more than I already do, which is too much. Anyway, I think Sadie's hit the nail on the head with her analysis: Pretty Is As Pretty Does: The Middle School Moment. (Jezebel)

My internet presence will be spotty for a bit, but I'll try and dig in when I get the chance. Happy August, everybody! And happy Lauren's Last Day of Work!



*False. I will. I will take a picture of you and your drunk friends, but I'll still be seething over your drunk, view-impairing ass while I do it.

Random trivia-related haberdashery: Dolls and hair

A couple of weeks ago for trivia, Anne and I wrote a "Dolls" category, in which Anne reminisced about a childhood favorite of hers, "Dolly Surprise." I never had a Dolly Surprise, but I knew people who did. I don't think I ever felt that I needed a doll whose hair could be adjusted by cranking her arms. I always just opted to cut my Barbies' hair. Especially common was cutting off their bangs, because seriously, if you thought bangs on real people were out of control in the late '80s and early '90s,* you should have seen Mattel's interpretation. Anyway, I found a picture of Dolly Surprise and decided to randomly post it. Also included in that round: Chatty Cathy, Kewpie dolls, Cabbage Patch Kids, and Bratz, to which Anne referred to as "those slutty, big-headed dolls." Classic. We are pretty much the best trivia hosts ever.

ADDITIONAL ANECDOTE: When we were small children, my siblings and I were playing outside one day. Someone got a hold of a pair of scissors. My oldest brother was never implicated in any of the crimes, but let's just say my other older brother left me with un poquito bald spot in my ponytail and I left our little sister sans bangs. Being under the age of five at the time, I refuse to accept responsibility for my actions. Although there is like a year's worth of photos of my sister with these ridiculous extra-short bangs. Our mother was PISSED. Sorry about that, kiddo.


*Believe you me, my forehead got its fair share of curling iron burns before church, I can attest to the validity of that observation. DISCLAIMER: My mother was curling my bangs, not trying to burn my forehead in an abusive manner. On at least one occasion, however, she didn't notice and when we got to church fifteen minutes later, she was like, "Why are you crying, Lauren?" But as she always said, "It's better to look good than to feel good." Thanks for that, Mom. Thanks a lot.

Quote o' the Day and Such: Unattainable Beauty Standards Edition

Confession that's not really a confession if you know me: I love America's Next Top Model. Sometimes it's really painful and I am forced to turn the channel or leave the room or hide under a blanket while Tyra humiliates herself and/or these poor fame-(and probably food-)hungry girls. But so last season I found out about the magic that is the ANTM Fantasy League! I've picked my first week's team on the basis of possible challenge-winning (Katarzyna and Fatima) and on possible crying and/or verbal confrontation points (Fatima and Marvita). And if that doesn't give you enough of a fix, you should definitely be reading Rich's epic recaps every Monday. But anyway, it's always interesting to observe the clusterfuck of trashiness and prettiness and addictiveness that is ANTM. It represents everything that is wrong with America in so many ways, and yet, I cannot stop watching. Perhaps this is why I want to do American studies for grad school. I just can't look away, I'm fascinated by not only the interpersonal squabbles and the makeovers and the "What the hell will come out of Tyra's mouth next?" parts, but also the conflicting values on display. One example I think of right away is how Tyra complains about how the fashion industry requires models to be unnaturally thin in order to have any sort of successful career, but holds her models to those same unhealthy standards. "Yeah, it really sucks how you have to be super skinny to be a model, and we should change that, but you should probably lose some weight if you want to be a model, but do it the healthy way, okay?" But so today I was reading a post about, essentially, "womb envy" from Amanda Marcotte on Pandagon, where she went on to say, "The drooling fascination a lot of our culture has with female beauty is understandable insofar as women’s beauty truly is neat, but let’s face it—much of the fascination is hostile. Instead of being pleased with beauty, our culture objectifies, demeans, hurts and humiliates because there’s so much resentment about it." I think of how we manage to admire the models (whom most of us will never even come close to looking like) while still taking sick pleasure in their exploitation. Luckily, I'm able to not think about all that too much while the magic is happening and can still enjoy the show, but I think what Amanda's referring to here is really clearly played out on the screen every week.

Confirming Stereotypes: Hairy-Legged Feminist Edition

The modicum of extra insulation it provides in the Minnesota winter justifies my laziness.

I had a recent heated discussion about leg-shaving with some friends, which I will not reiterate here since about 79% of this blog's potential readers were there. I will probably shave next time I want to wear a skirt/it is above -1938675 degrees, thus allowing for such fashion choices. But it's some pretty impressive growth for now, eh? HOT.