The week that didn't happen...

It's like this week never happened...it's like one night I was watching Gary, Unmarried thinking to myself, 'Why am I watching this crap?' and then time fast forwarded and there I was again watching Gary, Unmarried thinking, "Didn't I watch this crap TV show last week?"

This week was a blur of class, homework, a new president, working out, and TV watching.

I need to plug in again cause it's like I'm driving cruise control on the way to Vegas.

Couldn't have said it better myself...

...and I really wish it was me.

I saw the book "He's Just Not That Into You" in Barnes and Noble yesterday and in a moment of sad pathetic girly-ness I skimmed over the first chaper called "If he doesn't call you, he's just not that into you". As I read it I felt myself get anxious and nervous on that beautiful inauguration day. I shut the book, shook it off and walked away.

Kala, girl...I love you. Thanks for saying what I felt about that book but wasn't able to articulate:

For the women, depressing, yes, that their objects of wedding and child fantasies couldn’t care less about them, but still, empowering, because they could just let it go, already. He’s just not that into me. Well you know what, ladies. Greg was right. In all fairness, this is a very astute observation. Most of the time, sure, if a guy is interested in you, you will know. All the bullshitting and pussyfooting around is just guy-speak for “leave me the hell alone, please.” Here is what irks me to no end. This Greg person, he of frosted tips, dual pierced ears and the worst of jackass soul patches (seriously, Google him) is capitalizing on this idea that he think he invented. Guess what, Greg. WOMEN KNOW THIS ALREADY. Don’t you think we get it? Don’t you realize that our covering of tracks for the asshole who promises to call but doesn’t is just our way of making ourselves feel better in this horrific experience we call dating? Don’t you see that we know that when he texts us at 2 AM for a blowjob, but refuses to introduce us to his mother, we are completely aware that yeah, maybe, he’s not the “commitment type.” Isn’t it possible for you to see that our proclamations to our friends that “oh, you know, he’s having his apartment redone, so I can’t sleepover,” or “he’s just having a really stressful time at work right now, but after his next promotion we’re going to move in together” are just the sad, but very realistic, coping mechanisms that we women feel we must set up for ourselves so that we don’t have to come to face what we already know: yeah, he’s not that into me, and yeah, I have to keep looking.

I hate that realization that all that time and energy put into a guy who isn't into me was a complete waste! I could've been cleaning my toilet or playing with my dog! I'll live in Denialville until I'M ready to go. That my right.

Side note, that night a boy called me. What do I say to that? Sometimes a phone call is just a phone call.

I like to do this alone in my bedroom...

...add my own personal commentary to silly TV shows and movies. What did you think I meant?

Anyways, MST3K and good grooming:

Super Sexy Saturday!

Hey y'all...Are you feeling sexy? No? Well, let me help you get in the mood on this Super Sexy Saturday:

First off...Get $240 worth of pudding.

Then when your special place is feeling warm and moist, I might suggest taking off your pants and letting it all hang out...Now doesn't that feel better?

Now it's time for the lovin'...Have fun, but protect yourself:



Now I'll leave you alone to take care of business. To keep the fires burning, I give you Marvin Gaye's Sexual Healing. That song always does it for me...

There...Now you're done with sexy time, you're wondering what to do next...Well, may I suggest some cooking? You can use whatever you have just laying around. Mmmm...tasty.

There you have it, Super Sexy Saturday. Now go on and procreate.

Why, oh why...

Do I find this so funny? Can you tell me?

I don't understand

Why that man in the bookstore stopped trying to start up a conversation with me when I started reading a book titled Misogyny? I thought men liked challenges.

Four long years...

Today is my four year Blogaversary!

Right now I'm watching Oprah talk about how she's put on weight over the last two years due to illness, depression and being unbalanced. I know what y'all are thinking, Oprah and her weight, blah, blah, blah...shut the fuck up. Well, with obesity rates being what they are and with my own weight issues I think a discussion about weight and body image is something that needs to be talked about. Each and everyone of my closest friends have eating and/or weight issues. I know I've either been an over eater or borderline anorexic and bulimic for the last 15 years.

I gained 33 pounds last year. I know how it happened, but I'm not sure why it happened. I was stressed out and bored. I wasn't in school for six months and quit dating. I just quit trying and caring. I don't think I'm an attractive sexy woman anymore. Being thin feels like a job that I'm just sick of having. I started valuing my inner qualities rather than my physical appearance. I don't know how to cope with stress, boredom and sadness any other way besides eating.

I want to lose those 33 pounds as well as another 30 pounds that I was trying to lose before I gained all this weight. So that's about 63 pounds. Muthafucka.

I'm still conflicted over why I want to lose the weight. I want to be healthy and fit, but I also want to be a hot piece of ass again. I miss that. Yet, I'm a feminist who is so pissed off at the standard of beauty that I feel compelled to live up to or else I will never be loved. That's a big one: If you're fat then no one will ever love you and you'll die alone. That concept is alive and well in me.

It didn't help that two of my earliest sexual experiences were with boys who made comments about my weight, namely that I was overweight. And I was much thinner back then. After that I was always wondering if the guy I was sleeping with thought I was fat. Now that I actually am fat, there is no way I'm getting naked in front of a guy. I won't put myself through that again. So, basically no sex. It's really not that big a deal. I'm working my brain and giving my vagina a rest for a while.

There's no clear right or wrong when it comes to this. I'm just gonna treat my body like it's a car and food is fuel. I'm gonna workout and do some yoga. I'm gonna learn how to cope with my stress other than eating the entire candy section of Rite Aid. I'm gonna be a healthy weight. I also think that there is no way that some other woman is better than me because she can fit into a size 2. I'm gonna be the same person I am now when I lose the weight.

But maybe a bit more slutty.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

I happen to love Vince "I-had-no-idea-he-had-a-last-name" Offer the spokesman for ShamWow! ShamWow is that all purpose shammy that, if you believe the hype, would absorb the moisture from my panties after a Robert Downey Jr. movie marathon. Needless to say, I was sold!

Here's the clip if you've been living in some cultural void where infomercials don't exist:



Well, Vince is back with the SlapChop! There are no words to describe the subtly perverted awesomeness of this video:



"Guys, were gonna make America skinny again, one slap at a time." Priceless.

Slap on, Vince, slap on.