Rihanna's got 99 Problems but Chris Brown Ain't One...

Chris Brown's public "apology" for beating the crap out of then girlfriend Rihanna. I am a) not buying it. b) thinking this only enhances his doucheyness, accentuated by the bowtie c) noting his love life, like his career, is over. Forever more.

http://www.tmz.com/videos?autoplay=true&mediaKey=a5c251bd-6e61-4673-929b-ce9417cc76fc

Spin me faster like a kaliedosKope...

my FaVoRiTe new artist, Little Boots, has released her latest single, which just happens to be my favorite song of hers, and the video is in kaliedosKope form?!? What could be better? Cheers to this British babe who really sees the world through kaliedoskopeyes...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=McdqerXrwXE

I may have taken the longer road, but the scenery was worth it.

Tomorrow I am taking my last final EVER. obviously that is why I'm currently blogging to procrastinate. Despite the fact that I am thrilled, I thought a tribute to the 5 years, 4 majors, 3 schools, 2 countries, and one kick-ass time and now former lifestyle is necessary:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRVFfgoIKcg

Hey, you're a crazy bitch

If you're a female, you've probably been called one by either a male or another vicious female. But how legitimate are these claims? What exactly defines a "crazy bitch", what makes a woman act in this manner, and is she really "crazy"? And, perhaps most importantly, are women who refer to other women by these words betraying each other in regards to the tenements and ethics of feminism? 

If we really sit back and look at the criteria for a "crazy bitch" we find ourselves mislabeling women who are strong, fight for what they believe in, openly express their emotions, and who don't take shit from anyone. Perhaps you've been cheated on, and in your efforts to gain vindication and retribution you go a little overboard (think: Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats") and are labeled a "Crazy Bitch." While I am not condoning the destruction of another's property, I think we can all, regardless of gender, understand what motivated Miss Underwood and where she was coming from, as being abandoned and betrayed by a loved one naturally provokes feelings of anger, sadness, and desires for revenge. Everyone who has been cheated on probably feels at one point like bashing in the headlights of their former partner's car with a baseball bat, again, regardless of their gender. Another point to take into consideration is if the tables were turned, a male had been betrayed by this girlfriend, and he hunted out her partner in crime and punched him, such action generally would be viewed as a defense of his honor. Why can't a woman also defend her honor without being labeled as "crazy" by society? Are women not valued for being more in tune with their emotions then men? If this is the case, shouldn't a woman be more inclined to defend her honor than a man? Why do we, as a society, stifle this instinct? 

Alternatively, when labeling occurs between women, it is a betrayal of the ideals of feminism and the work we have done to fight for gender equality. We teach our daughters not to accept the actions of anyone who hurts us or denies us our rights, to be strong, intelligent individuals who fight for what we believe in, yet we are so quick to label a women who acts in this manner derogatively. What sort of double standard are we teaching the next generation, never mind holding our peers and our own selves to?  

Women should not be submissive, should not allow others (regardless of gender) to walk all over them, and should fight the seemingly popular urge to call anyone who does not adhere to the submissive, helpless, and archaic stereotype of what women "should be" as either crazy or a bitch. It is ironic that such action earns us the title "crazy bitch", as it is neither crazy nor bitchy; standing up for oneself and one's values is the least crazy thing a person can do, and allowing oneself to accept or label another with the derogatory title of "bitch" is to allow oneself to succumb to and perpetuate such negative stereotypes against women. 

If you are a man, think twice about what you value in a partner before you call a woman a "crazy bitch." What kind of example would you want her to teach your daughters? One that would encourage her to allow men to dominate her, treat her like a disposable object, and disrespect her rights as a human being? And if you are a woman, what do you gain by calling another a "crazy bitch"? Some sort of vindication? Do you feel better afterwards? Probably not. Alternatively, you have reinforced that negatively labeling women (by either gender) is acceptable, and expressed a view that women should not be strong, independent, or fight for what they believe in. And if this is the case, would you please go bake some pie and leave those of us who believe in and fight for equal rights for all people within society alone?

Made in the 80s Babyyy

A tribute to the fact that my birthday is this week (!), that I was, in fact, made in the 80s, and that I feel legitimately gipped that I was only allowed to live for half of this fabulous decade and had to live them as a toddler at the fashion mercy of my mother and was thus also deprived of the AWESOME outfits of the Reagan era: 80spurple.com. I especially LOVE the Hellz Bellz line, as well as the neon (surprise surprise) House of Cassette jeans. Again, it is my birthday on Friday (hint hint).

Another 80s fav: The emotional 80s teen song of the week segment on my good friend and former roommate, Joe Dupnik's, radio show, Festive Intoxications, which makes me laugh my ass off every Friday from 10-12.  Give your bodonk some exercise too: http://www.myspace.com/festiveintoxications

Top Seven Reasons Why Sarah Palin REALLY Resigned...

Republished from my allvoices.com site. Why? Because I just make myself smitten with how deliciously funny I am sometimes.

*Author disclaimer: The following article is meant to be a comedic, satirical portrayal of former governor Palin. Its contents should not be taken as truth.

Last week’s resignation of Alaskan governor and former Vice Presidential candidate,Sarah Palin, has left many questioning her motives behind leaving her post. While some have speculated personal financial troubles as the reason, others have suggested Palin has her eye on the 2012 Republican Presidential nomination. Fortunately, the real reasons why Palin resigned have come forward, and these rumors can be laid to rest.

Top 7 Reason why Sarah Palin REALLY resigned

7) Joe Plumber is suing

We all remember Palin’s buddy-ole-pal Joe Plumber from the 2008 Presidential Election. Palin spoke so fondly of their friendship and easy neighborly bond, but did we ever actually see her with Joe? In the wake of the election, Plumber is finally speaking out. “She completed fabricated our relationship,” Plumber told reporters while repairing a leaky bathtub. “I became so famous in my city of 50 people my family and I had to go into witness protection for our own safety. I had to get plastic surgery to get a new butt crack designed to avoid being recognized. She’s going to pay for what a pain in the ass she was.”

6) Palin will be the newest contestant on Dancing with the Stars

Reality television is a haven for celebrities desperate for a comeback. Case in point:Kathy Griffin’s My Life on the D List, every cast of every season of Celebrity Rehab, and brain cell assassinators like I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here! Sadly for America, the ex-VP candidate did not choose to join fellow celebs Speidi in the Costa Rican rain forest (imagine Palin sharing Heidi’s spray-on shampoo – this would be epic television, people) but instead will waltz in the steps of The Bachelor’s latest reject, Melissa, mamboing her way to that giant trophy.

5) Her hairdresser quit.

You know the look. It’s as trademark Sarah Palin as the wink that gives you nightmares. It’s a windswept hairdo, with a carefully calculated and asymmetrical poof (that arguably increased in size along with her ego) culminating in a classic French twist at the back of her head. And how does she keep those bangs so- perfect? As with all celebrities (those of you who ever referred to her as a politician were clearly mistaken), there is an unseen team of hairstylists, makeup artists, and clothing stylists who ensure their client is looking spiffy 24/7. It’s not an easy job, and Palin’s hairdresser cracked under the pressure. In an exclusive interview from Juneau Hospital’s psychiatric ward, she stated between tears, and sobbing gasps for air, “It was just too much! The bangs have to graze the glasses just right … I was beginning to get asthma from all the hairspray!” Palin’s high maintenance style has her staff running for the door faster than she can say, “You Betcha!”

4) The night job

Sure Palin looks quite classy in those tailored suits she sports by day, but has anyone other than secret service agents and teenage GOP groupies overridden with testosterone and acne followed her home at night? Ahhh, so I thought. And you probably know about Palin’s 2008 appearance on the cover of Vogue wearing – gasp- lingerie, but, if that isn’t enough to ruffle your feathers, were you aware of thePlayboy centerfold in which her naked body is covered only by a rifle and (parental discretion advised) is seen without her glasses? Palin’s nights of moonlighting at the Caribouty Strip Club have finally caught up with her, and those Alaskans who missed the irony of her daughter, Bristol’s, unwed pregnancy, are beginning to question her commitment to abstinence-only sex education.

3) Tina Fey’s plastic surgery

In the wake of the 2008 Presidential Election, Palin’s look-a-like, Tina Fey, has grown aggravated, disgruntled, and annoyed. Due to her striking resemblance to Palin, she has been consequently bombarded with requests for autographs, blowjobs from elderly men, and advice on how to single-handedly ruin an entire political party’s chance at reelection and redemption. Fey has undergone the knife to alter her appearance to avoid being mistaken for the former governor, and without her mirror image dressing-up like her and mimicking her accent, Palin has no idea when she is being mocked. Fey is now a blonde, leaving the world’s dumbest brunette thinking she is doing everything right. If we ever find out who stepped in and squashed this dangerous situation is, America owes him a big thank you note.

2) Relocation

The Palin family recently moved to eastern Alaska where Sarah has what stunning view from her bedroom window? You guessed it! That of Canada! The United States’ relationship with our neighbors to the north is more diplomatic than that with Russia, which Palin could see from her former bedroom window. The State Department had begun receiving complaints of a rifle-toting woman spying through kitchen windows and peering over backyard fences into the homes of neighboring Russians. In attempts to avoid invasion by Siberian barbarians, the CIA quickly stepped in and moved Palin, encouraging her to use her background as a hockey mom to bond with her new Canadian neighbors, thus averting disaster. Good idea, eh?

1) Willow’s pregnancy

Teenage daughter number two, whom David Letterman recently accused of getting knocked up during the seventh inning stretch of a Yankee’s game, sparking a series of heated exchanges between Palin and himself, has a tell-tale baby bump! Clearly Palin’s comments were an ill-fated attempt at a cover-up, and with more lies and another pregnant teenage daughter on her record, Palin has cut her losses and thrown in the towel. Possible names for the youngster include Carpenter, Joe Q. Public, Yaz, and, of course, Hockey Mom.

Never fear, America. Sarah Palin has resigned, and the terror that is the thought of an ex-pageant queen winking at Stalin from across the Bering Strait as the diplomatic representative of our country can be quenched. By 2012, Palin will be never be able to escape the throngs of her 53 illegitimate grandchildren long enough to ensure the geometric symmetry of her hair poof, never mind run for President.

Weekend Decorating!

So this past weekend I got bit by the decophace bug, and used an XMEN calendar (I got for free!) to do the drawers of my bureau. Brianna doesn't like it, but I think it looks like a choose your own adventure comic book meets Goosebumps book :)

Close-up:

Also, Bri and I went to my favorite flea market, and I found this AWESOME vintage orange tv for $2. total steal---imagine having a bunch of funky old tvs in a shelf unit surrounding a real tv? time to start collecting!

 

Teenage Graffiti My Generation's Got it Baddd

My new favorite artist of the day is a fellow member of Generation Y, a fact which, combined with his graffiti-like approach to art, made me think of the awesome Pink Spiders Song. Jorge Oswaldo's art basically kicks ass.. I found his prints while searching for a skin for my Mac; he works with paint and vinyl to create graphic design-like prints that have made some pretty dope ipod skins and car decals, among other awesome products that make normal things works of art. His works are a cross remind me of a marriage between pop art, graffiti, and an acid trip. Groovy baby.

See more at jorgeoswaldo.com

The college graduation that almost wasn't.

ohhh hi. thought i forgot about you, huh? never. and i have quite the story for you. :)

So I finally graduated college (YES!), however, there was a little scare near the end there, which I left out when relaying all my hard work to my mother. Every semester, the Dean of Students office at the University of the Tundra (which, lo and behold, did eventually thaw) puts out warnings that if you misread the finals schedule/sleep through a final/ for some crazy reason miss a final, you will not be excused. This happens to about 10 ("otherwise intelligent") students every semester. What are the chances they could be me? Well, a normal person, very slim. Me, however, apparently high.

So finals week for me involved all night dates with Homer (the name of our library), and copious amounts of caffeine. I wrote 32 pages worth of papers in 5 days and was on a very strict schedule, which left Friday afternoon to study for my Medieval final which I thought was on Friday night. Upon sitting down and going online to recheck the room, I realize I ("otherwise intelligent") have misread the schedule and my final was RIGHT NOW. I hope in my car, drive like crazy, park in a handicap spot, am that crazy lady running through campus, run into the room crying my eyes out as everyone is finishing, sit down with a test, and realize I know nothing. I mean nothing. My head was so jammed packed with information from papers I had no idea when the Hundred Years War was. No idea what monastery the Rood is at. And anyways, time's up.

Enter nervous breakdown. I'm going to fail. I'm not going to graduate. Total freakout. There's nothing I can do but wait.

Fast forward 3 days: I got a B in the class. There is NO WAY I got a B in that class. I feel as though I should begin worshipping the Pagan Medieval gods. I feel as though I should go to graduate school and write my dissertation on Beowulf. I feel as though I owe my professor sexual favors (ok, not really). 

So moral of the story, sometimes shit happens. To me, shit happens a lot. But sometimes the world has a way of working itself out. I guess I was meant to be a college graduate. :)

America Samoa?

So I'm applying to teach English next year in America Samoa through a program totally funded by the US government. I'd tell you what it is, but apparently the economy sucks or something? and I don't want you steal my job. But seriously, check out the pics, this is where I'd be living/working. I'm sooo excited :o)

Playing Perez!!

My sincerest apologies to my fan base (all 6 of you) for suspending this cliffhanger for soooo long. Never fear, I'm back, and today I thought I'd play a little Perez and give you my insights into the latest and juiciest celebrity gossip that everyone everywhere seems to be obsessed with.

Ok, first off, unless you've been living under a rock somewhere, you know that sexy, barely-legal, Doublemint gum promoting singer Chris Brown beat the poop out of his girlfriend, beautiful, one-name rocking singer Rihanna the night before the Grammys. The two then went into a somewhat- sort- of- hiding until they emerged, together, as in STILL in a relationship. This of course got every OK! magazine obsessed soccer mom and sorority girl gossiping, "How could she take him back?" and "But she loves him, she has to." I began to wonder if as a role model to young women all over the world if Rihanna has a responsibility not only to her own safety and self-esteem, but to set an example for any other girl who may find herself in an abusive relationship, and if so, what kind of example is she setting by taking him back? My answer: A realistic one. Domestic abuse counselors remind us on average it takes a woman seven times to finally leave an abusive relationship. It is the sad reality that a girl who finds herself in an abusive relationship will not be able to get out of it easily, due to the fact that she probably still has feelings for the guys and abusive men are often very manipulative. Rihanna's responsibility to the youth of the world is to set the best, most realistic example she can based on the reality she is facing, and she's doing just that by showing girls it's not always as simple as just leaving him.

The same goes for Michael Phelps who, DUH Matt Lauer, was obviously smoking weed out of that bong. As a role model for America's youth should Phelps be smoking pot? Ideally, no, but realistically, yes. If you have a kid, chances are sometimes in his life he's going to smoke, and when he does, it won't be because he saw Michael Phelps doing it and thought it was cool. Abstinence only programs are what brought us Bristol Palin. The key is to be realistic. 

On to Octamom. This woman needs to be committed.  Any parent who does not have the resources to care and provide for his/her children should not be reproducing. This is irresponsible and neglectful. I fully agree that social services should intervene, as there is no possible way this woman can care for 14 children on her own with little to no income. If you love kids, great, but don't have so many that you can't possibly provide them ALL with the love they need.

Ladies, let's put on some pants.

If I had to pick one word to describe the fashions sported by the women of the University of the Tundra with whom I attend college it would be uniform. A good 60% of the girls you pass walking through campus will be wearing the same thing and it is terribly difficult when entering a sorority house to distinguish one sister from another. While I am against uniformity in terms of fashion (our catholic school days are over, ladies), I have (somewhat ashamedly) noticed the practical and comfortable benefits of Ugg boots (however hideous) and have too jumped on the North Face bandwagon. There are some trends, however, that not only do I refuse to participate in, but mock those who do. For instance, ladies, there is absolutely no need to go tanning SO much that your skin turns orange. This is not a natural skin color, which should suggest to you this is not healthy. You will have wrinkles before you graduate and skin cancer before your children enter kindergarten. The American Skin Cancer Society has a great website. Please check it out, and note, we live in the tundra, where our skin is supposed to be white.

However, Ugg boots and obsessive compulsive tanning are not the point of this blog entry. I want to discuss the newest pant trend: leggings. Leggings can be a very cute and comfortable alternative to skinny jeans and can be paired well with long sweater and boots. There is one way however, that leggings should not be worn: as pants. Unless you are wearing a top that covers your buttocks, you should not be wearing leggings. No one wants to see the dimples in your butt cheeks or, even worse yet so obvious one stares at it like a car crash, the ever-present camel toe. Ladies, you look ridiculous, and no one wants to see your vagina lips, so let's make everyone happy and put on a pair of jeans. If you are having trouble giving up your leggings as pants, please feel free to join my sister and my foundation, the Leggings Are Not Pants Awareness Association (LANPAA) support group. However, if you are wearing tights as pants, you need far more help than I can give you and need not attend meetings.

Also, it is important to note that unlike being referred to by the entire administrative staff by your peoplesoft number rather than your name, wearing leggings is not a right, it is a privilege that can be revoked. If you are of a certain body type, you should not be wearing leggings (whether as properly outlined above or as pants) AT ALL. You are causing yourself unnecessary ridicule and embarrassment, so please don a pair of sweats, which leave more rolls to the imagination.

Ladies of the Tundra: unite as we fight for the extinction of the camel toe by promoting responsible legging wear. It is a far off dream, but possible if we work together and take our mission one pair of pants at a time.

first week shenanigans

The first week of classes is always interesting. Meeting new teachers, mastering a new schedule, checking out the new hot coeds in the back row. There's the classes that you know as soon as you walk in the room you are going to drop, and try to sneak out without even taking a syllabus. And then there are the classes you get stuck in.

My medieval teacher handed out an Anglo-Saxon riddle and asked the class to read it and try and solve it. First thing he did. I read the poem through, twice, three times, then look nervously around the room wondering if anyone else has gotten that this is DEFINITELY about a penis or if I just have a dirty mind. Neanderthal (as Mr. Medieval will henceforth be referred to) spends the rest of the class discussing the phallic imagery as the penis becomes erect and unerect. CREEPY.

Onto Quantitative Analysis in Political Science. All group projects (aka DROP IMMEDIATELY) but the interesting thing lies in the professor, as I am still wondering if he has a terrible Eastern European accent or a lisp. Group projects + uncomprehendable teacher = not for Molly.

Now, if Neanderthal will cease lecturing to solely me for uncomfortable periods of time and the University of the Tundra will get a bubble over it with heating as well as develop a system of communication between departments (email, people, email) I may not have meltdowns this semester over the impossibility of this school to function in a manner acceptable to Molly. Not holding my breath.

Check Fraud

For me, like millions of other college students, money is, well, tight. As time goes on I find it more and more necessary to be able to laugh at my financial situation or I am bound to lose my mind and either start selling my body or planting Benjamin's in my backyard hoping that money tree my parents speak of will start to grow. And this past week's financial who-ha's are certainly humorous.

Last Friday my roommate, Bri, calls me up and tells me ( the only roommate living at our apartment at the time since others have gone home on break while I have been banished to the dungeon for torture via poetry every morning at 9am) that she has forgotten to pay her rent and will I please go into her room and forge a check and drop it off at the office. No problem. When I get home later, Cooper has to pee, per usual, so I run upstairs, grab the check, scribble Briana Hog (long story) on a check and run out with Coop to the office. When I come back there is a note on my bedroom door from roommate #3 (Colleen) that I was rushing too much to see before stating that she has also stopped by and forged a check for Bri. GREAT.

This brings us to the "this shit only happens to me" and "you can't make this up" portion of the program. Apparently when I went home to get my new checks I grabbed the ones from my old checking account, which, surprise, no longer exists. Thus, surprise! and lucky for me! all my bills for January bounced. And what could be more calming for a busy student living paycheck to paycheck than realizing not only does she have to spend the time and aggravation to sit on hold to talk to (insert raspy fat secretary voice here) customer service representatives who couldn't give a flying rat's ass about my dilemma but doing so while wondering where all those service charges for bounced checks are going to come from. Time to throw in the towel and start stripping.

Anyways, so I go down to the rent office to explain my situation to our own slightly plump secretary who looks up our account and tells me, "Hmm. This is odd. Your rent is all paid for this month for that apartment." And then it dawns on me. Bri paid twice. Now I am very quickly trying to think of a scapegoat story to prevent all three of us from becoming cellmates (I am very partial to my own room, thank you) for check fraud and slightly plump is looking more plump as she stares me down suspiciously for an explanation until I finally burst out with, "Oh, you know, one of my roommates isn't really all there (making the spinning motion with my finger next to the side of my head that denotes craziness), she may have paid her rent twice this month, she's pretty forgetful, side effect of being dropped as a baby I think, plus she's blonde." REALLY plump gives me a "Uhuhhh" nod and rolls her eyes a little before accepting my new check.

Moral of the story, be very careful when writing checks. Please obey all federal laws and write only from accounts that actual exist. Your story may not be as funny as mine; you may actually end up in jail with a biker "chick" cellmate named Bertha.

Also, Bri is actually a highly intelligent doctoral student, who, although she is actually blonde, she is more of the Elle Woods type who kicks ass and takes names.

trust, betrayal, love...hope?

Graham Greene once wrote, "The only love which has lasted is the love which has everything, every disappointment, every failure and every betrayal, which has excepted even the sad fact that in the end there is no desire so deep as the simple desire for companionship."

Perhaps all I truly ever wanted was companionship. To simply have another living soul there to share my triumphs and my sorrows with, to be there on the good days and the bad days, as Peyton says to Lucas, “to be there standing next to me when all my dreams came true.” I think everyone wants that innately; all we all really want is to come home to: a lover, a roommate, a pet, a family, whatever, waiting for and happy to see us. Given the choice between going to bed alone and falling asleep next to someone who loves us I think we would all choose the latter.
Maybe all we really want is someone to take away that feeling that we are all alone in the world.

Or perhaps it was more. All I know is I gave my heart completely and totally. I did what all the books and movies and grown-ups who had loved and lost had told me to do. I put myself out there, and I truly and utterly allowed myself to be consumed with the intoxication of love; I put my foot down on the accelerator and speed forward fearlessly without once consulting the rearview mirror. Would I take it all back, knowing what I know now? I think I would have been a little more cautious, a little less blinded, a little more conscious of the pain that ensues once trust is lost. But maybe as T.H. White said, "Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically to those who hardly think about us in return."

Once trust is lost and the knowledge of the pain of betrayal replaces the intoxication of love consuming the soul, it is impossible to imagine the reverse will ever occur again. Ignorance is truly bliss; once we are robbed of innocence and taught of the pain and suffering that can occur in love, is it possible that we will ever be able to experience again a love so intense, so raw, and so pure? Was the innocent love of Romeo and Juliet truly the purest form of love, or is love with the knowledge and experience of man’s hurtful and evil capabilities true love? Most importantly, how can we allow ourselves to give our hearts so completely to another after being betrayed?

And why is it that the questions we most need the answers to are most often the ones we can’t find?

New Year's Resolution!

Sooo making this blog, making an effort to write and publish my thoughts, and most importantly, maintaining this blog is my official New Year's Resolution, thanks to my fav lil sis who apparently thinks i'm an awesome writer and wants me to eventually get paid to do it. let's hope she's right.

So if you're reading this now, I hope you will continue to read my meandering musings on my thoughts, ideas, and opinions, and if by any chance you happen to figure me out, you're one step ahead of me. Perhaps some little tidbits about me to keep you interested:

*I'm VERY little. I'm about 5 feet tall and I weigh 90 lbs. Getting asked for back-up ID or asked if the high school has off today are daily events for me. I drive a little car (VW beetle named Daisy), have a little dog (my beagle named Cooper who is basically the shit), and have over 40 pairs of size 5 1/2 shoes.

*I've had the same 4 best friends since i was 5 years old.

*I just discovered I can't eat peanuts in a series of unfortunate, uncomfortable (for all parties involved) recent stomach "situations"

*I'm an absolute nerd for good literature and proper grammar oddly delights me.

*The way to my heart is clearly through waffles and oversized red handbags.