Diving right in...
Squeaky Clean: Have you ever had two liquids next to you, one drinkable the other probably poisonous, so you keep one on either side of you so you don't get confused, but one time you reach for the wrong fluid and either drink it or think, "Oh, no, have I been drinking the wrong one?" I did that the other day with iced tea and Windex. Scared the crap out of myself- "I would've noticed if I've been drinking Windex, right?"
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Amish Fostered Prison Baby: Oh, man. There was a prison special on Oprah's network, OWN, called Babies Behind Bars, all about being pregnant and giving birth while in prison. This one woman's family couldn't take her baby, and she couldn't keep her baby because her prison's baby-keeping policy doesn't allow violent offenders to enter the baby-care housing unit and the woman had been to juvie as a young teen for a violent offense she technically counted-- which isn't entirely fair, but kind of makes sense because what if she was 20 and had gotten busted at 15 or whatever, that's only five years. Anyway, so this lady was giving birth but her family couldn't take the baby and she couldn't keep it, so she was put into contact with this Amish family that takes inmates babies and raises them as foster children until the mother is released. The craziest part of this, besides the fact they were actual electricity-free horse-and-buggy Amish, is the mother was like, "Oh, they don't seem that religious. I mean, lots of people go to church on Sunday."
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Lies in Advertising: Ever see those commercials for Almay Smartshade makeup? There's a new one with Kate Hudson. Let me tell you about the bullshit they're shilling there. I'm very, very pale and I really, really hate makeup and I have strange combination skin. So I get the Smartshade Smart Balance or whatever it was called, it was supposed to match my skin tone exactly then dry the oily spots and moisturize the dry spots which, I mean, really, too good to be true. I do attempt to be pretty on occasion so I thought I'd give it a try. Lies. The stuff itself is plain white lotion which, okay, yeah, whatever, it's not going to dry anything but whatever. As I was "blending" I realized that there were tiny bits of pigment in it that got broken by the "blending" action and that's what made it change color. Clever, but it was still too orange and not remotely what they claimed it to be. It also made me break out. So screw you, Almay.
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Elton John is probably the coolest guy ever. That's all.
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Creature Feature: My dad's been doing battle with the local wildlife. To hear me say that you'd think I lived in the middle of the woods, but I live in the suburbs and we are freaking overrun with creatures. Because they're doing so much construction it's taking away the natural habitat for skunks, and because nobody really locks their garbage cans the skunks go through the neighborhood like it's a smorgasbord. We didn't really mind at first, it was kind of cool to sit on the porch and watch everything run around, but it became war when the creatures started eating the vegetables out of my dad's garden. Opossums, skunks, and squirrels have been having a grand old time eating our tomatoes and corn so my dad's been trapping them and driving them away and letting them loose in the woods a couple miles away so they don't come back. Not like it makes any difference.
One squirrel was eating my dad's corn-- and this is the first time he's ever grown corn-- and leaving debris all over the yard. Kernals, leaves, the cob, it's hilarious because it's so bad it almost seems like the squirrel is doing it on purpose. My dad made little cages out of chicken wire to keep the squirrels from getting to the ears as they're growing so the little critters actually gnawed through the stalk itself, knocking the whole thing down and the little cages off.
Every once in a while, when I walk by the back door, I tell my dad a skunk or squirrel or whatever is eating out of the garden and he gets all mad and stomps out, ready to bust some rodent rear. It makes me laugh. A lot.
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Danish Invasion: Last Monday Salami & Orchids had, for the first time ever, another country beat the United States in page views. Congratulations, Denmark! In one day we had 20 page views from Denmark alone- the US only had 14! Tak Danmark- kom igen!
...is that right? It seems too much like English to be another language, like it's just English words spelled wrong...no offense intended, Denmark. Blame Google Translate.
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I'm an Animal Lover, But...: On a darker note, I'm really sick of these ASPCA and Humane Society commercials showing images of abused animals. If I can't comfortably eat and watch your commercials at the same time, I'm not giving you any money. Not even-- if I can't comfortably watch your commercials period, I'm not giving you any money. Especially if some of that money is going to fund more, and similar, commercials.
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Good News: Project Runway is back! They really need to make a bigger deal of season premieres, man, I had no idea it had already happened. Expect more Project Runway posts.
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Upcoming Posts: I'm almost done the Fight Club analysis, it's going better than I thought it would so I want to make sure I nail it. It'll probably be up Tuesday or Wednesday. Also coming is a review of Janet Fitch's novel White Oleander...and I'm going to Gayle's house tomorrow as she's throwing a party for a friend of ours, Lisa, who moved to Florida after graduation. In all it'll be six hours worth of travel, so I may be doing several mini-posts from my phone tomorrow just detailing things seen and heard on NJ Transit. During The Internship from Hell I spent a ridiculous amount of time on the rails and I can tell you it's always eventful.
Tak igen, alle. Hold dig smuk.
...I think Google Translate is playing a trick on me.
Showing posts with label Makeup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Makeup. Show all posts
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Invisible Women
An interesting link popped up in this morning's Morning Cup O' Links over at Mental_Floss: Harassment and Visible Womanhood
The idea is that there are "visible" women and "invisible" women, and that the "visible" women are subject to sexual harassment from men because they're attractive, and "invisible" women are ignored because they're not. So then, the "invisible" women want to be harassed, or are jealous of the attention the visible women get.
I don't like the use of "harassment" here, because it's not always harassment that happens, but there is a certain amount more attention paid to the visible.
I used to be visible. Yes, there was a time I was visible. The most annoying thing was the car horns, because I don't drive so I'd end up walking a lot. I walked to the local bagel place once and got 12 beeps, 7 on the way there, 5 on the way back. I only ever got one comment, a creepy old guy in Wawa said I had nice legs (so he may have been blind), but other than that it was just looks. Men used to look at me. Older, younger, didn't matter, if I walked by them they looked at me. It was fun-- a little eye batting, maybe a nod, smirk, or sly smile. Once when I was studying abroad in London a friend of mine and I were at one of the festivals along the Thames (there's a freaking lot of them), though this one was at night for some reason. Anyway, as we walked down the river two cops came up in the opposite direction. One of them and I made eye contact and gave each other little smiles, then after we passed by each other I turned back to get one last look as he was tragically cute-- and he had turned back around, too! We locked eyes again and laughed to each other before turning back around.
Those little moments don't happen anymore. I miss that connection, that instant where two strangers acknowledge each other. I didn't know how tied in that was to my weight until I gained a bunch. Now I realize it happened because I was at one time cute and not because it was something sweet or polite to do, like I thought. It never occurred to me that it was because these guys found me attractive, I mean, I'm a modest dresser-- not Duggar modest but I don't wear terribly low-cut shirts because I don't like breathing on myself (no, really, I can feel the air coming out of my nose brushing my skin if my top's cut too low and I hate it) and I can't wear shorts or short skirts because of the scars on my thighs from cutting so it's not like I was ever all slutted-out. And makeup looks really horrendous on me. I mean, I can wear mascara, and I only have one shade of lipstick that I can wear and I only do that when I'm going out for the night and not going to be eating, drinking, or kissing anything so...8 times out of 10, when I leave the house, I'm not wearing any makeup at all. And I hate my hair. And my skin kind of sucks. So why would I ever think those moments were tied up in my attractiveness?
I still try for it, though. I pass a man I look up at him through my lashes, or twitch back a corner of my mouth in a little smile, but now there's no reaction. It's like I'm not there. Like I'm invisible. Even with the less attractive guys-- I did it with any guy around my age or older because I thought it was polite and it was just an extra bonus if they were cute.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad nobody honks anymore; I'm kind of high strung so I used to jump every time a horn blared because I wasn't expecting it and it startled me. I don't miss the honking.
But I do miss the acknowledgement. I do miss that second of sharing a friendly moment with a stranger. The memories are a little sullied now, knowing there was some naughtiness around it but it was still sweet. It's lonely now, walking down a street when nobody sees you.
For what it's worth, kids, I see everybody.
The idea is that there are "visible" women and "invisible" women, and that the "visible" women are subject to sexual harassment from men because they're attractive, and "invisible" women are ignored because they're not. So then, the "invisible" women want to be harassed, or are jealous of the attention the visible women get.
I don't like the use of "harassment" here, because it's not always harassment that happens, but there is a certain amount more attention paid to the visible.
I used to be visible. Yes, there was a time I was visible. The most annoying thing was the car horns, because I don't drive so I'd end up walking a lot. I walked to the local bagel place once and got 12 beeps, 7 on the way there, 5 on the way back. I only ever got one comment, a creepy old guy in Wawa said I had nice legs (so he may have been blind), but other than that it was just looks. Men used to look at me. Older, younger, didn't matter, if I walked by them they looked at me. It was fun-- a little eye batting, maybe a nod, smirk, or sly smile. Once when I was studying abroad in London a friend of mine and I were at one of the festivals along the Thames (there's a freaking lot of them), though this one was at night for some reason. Anyway, as we walked down the river two cops came up in the opposite direction. One of them and I made eye contact and gave each other little smiles, then after we passed by each other I turned back to get one last look as he was tragically cute-- and he had turned back around, too! We locked eyes again and laughed to each other before turning back around.
Those little moments don't happen anymore. I miss that connection, that instant where two strangers acknowledge each other. I didn't know how tied in that was to my weight until I gained a bunch. Now I realize it happened because I was at one time cute and not because it was something sweet or polite to do, like I thought. It never occurred to me that it was because these guys found me attractive, I mean, I'm a modest dresser-- not Duggar modest but I don't wear terribly low-cut shirts because I don't like breathing on myself (no, really, I can feel the air coming out of my nose brushing my skin if my top's cut too low and I hate it) and I can't wear shorts or short skirts because of the scars on my thighs from cutting so it's not like I was ever all slutted-out. And makeup looks really horrendous on me. I mean, I can wear mascara, and I only have one shade of lipstick that I can wear and I only do that when I'm going out for the night and not going to be eating, drinking, or kissing anything so...8 times out of 10, when I leave the house, I'm not wearing any makeup at all. And I hate my hair. And my skin kind of sucks. So why would I ever think those moments were tied up in my attractiveness?
I still try for it, though. I pass a man I look up at him through my lashes, or twitch back a corner of my mouth in a little smile, but now there's no reaction. It's like I'm not there. Like I'm invisible. Even with the less attractive guys-- I did it with any guy around my age or older because I thought it was polite and it was just an extra bonus if they were cute.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad nobody honks anymore; I'm kind of high strung so I used to jump every time a horn blared because I wasn't expecting it and it startled me. I don't miss the honking.
But I do miss the acknowledgement. I do miss that second of sharing a friendly moment with a stranger. The memories are a little sullied now, knowing there was some naughtiness around it but it was still sweet. It's lonely now, walking down a street when nobody sees you.
For what it's worth, kids, I see everybody.
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