Internet, I’ve discussed this before – not with you, I don’t think, but I probably would have gotten around to it eventually – I just don’t care for travel. I know that the desire for travel is generally assumed to be present in anyone and everyone, as if it’s a certainty that anyone with half a brain would turn globetrotter at the drop of a hat, given the chance. Well, meet the girl who is CHALLENGING ALL OF YOUR PRECONCEIVED NOTIONS OF NORMALITY. I’m practically a “The More You Know” commercial.
Doo DOO doo doooooo.
I don’t like to be away from home. People will say, “Oh, don’t you want to see other countries, experience other cultures?” Not… really. I have nothing against other countries or cultures. I just think… isn’t that why we invented the Internet? I mean, have you heard the way that some of you make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? If that’s not other cultures, being experienced by me, right in my email inbox, I don’t know what is.
Anyway, this is a long way of saying that I’m not even remotely pleased to be in Pennsylvania right now. It’s cold, and it’s snowing on and off and everyone is just acting like it’s normal. I know I’ve only been gone from the east coast for a year, but that is long enough to realize that I don’t like it here.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIVE LIKE THIS, EAST COAST.
Anyway, I’ve had appointments all week and have not been able to adjust to the time difference at all. It’s only 2 hours at the moment, but my whole life is thrown off. I keep getting yanked out of bed early, when my mother decides she’s generously allowed me to sleep enough. I keep having to stay up late because I get the feeling that the fact that I actually need time to work doesn’t get considered too much here. It’s a common problem with the whole working at home thing – Phil sometimes struggles with it, too. The idea that I can work anytime, anywhere, so I’m much more flexible. Of course, if I need to go to an appointment or something, it is much easier for me than for someone with an office job. However, the work “anywhere, anytime” thing does require a place and a time at some point, and since I’ve been here, that place and time has been sitting in the center of my sister’s childhood bed at 11pm.
I’ve read every single comment on the dresses post, and I really appreciate all of your thoughts. I have to say, though, we (my sister, mom and I) were totally surprised by many of them. We’re not at all shocked at which dress ended up being the runaway favorite, but a dress that has been a very strong front runner for all of us got little to no favor at all with most people. I had to go try it on again, we were so shocked. Last night, my sister and I agreed that I must have just chosen a bad picture of it – it’s so flattering in person, and so pretty, it’s just not possible that so few people would like it. I don’t have the time to resize anymore photos right now, but since I got everyone’s unbiased opinions on the dresses yesterday, I’ll do a post with my opinions of them later tonight or tomorrow, for the most hardcore and dedicated of the dress shoppers. Those of you who have had your fill of ooh and ahh over standard white dresses should feel free to skip it – I’m aware that wedding dresses are not nearly as interesting to the general public or penises as they are to someone who is currently planning a wedding.
I truly am stumped on the dresses, and with 7 contending for the top spot, you’d think we’d be content to just let them all duke it out, but instead, we are heading out to one more store this afternoon. The worst case scenario at this new store would be that someone makes fun of my flabby arms. The slightly less horrible but much more realistic worst case scenario would be that we find a dress that is on par with the other seven. The best outcome would be if we found either nothing, or one dress that just kicked every other dress’s tulle-y ass, and the decision would be made.
Anyway, I can’t believe I’ve been rambling on about dress shopping for days. This is why, on the whole, I talk so little about my day to day life, and focus instead on… well, whatever the hell it is I normally focus on. Some people have a skill for making the day to day mundane details of their life interesting, compelling and/or hysterical. Me, I need to stick to writing about sandwiches and candy bars, because damn it is dull to be me.
Here’s some stuff I’ve been thinking about when everyone else gets to sleep and I have to stay up way late and work even though my mom is only going to let me sleep til, like, 8, and think that she actually waited forever to wake me up, even though she is totally not factoring in the fact that I don’t even a little bit want to be awake and that I’m 28 and just waking me up for the hell of waking me up stopped being one of her parental rights when I moved out into my own place:
1. More people have seen me in my underwear in the last three days than in the last three years, total. And all I packed was polka dots, polka dots, stripes and snowmen. Awesome. EXCEPT? The shop ladies were mostly just happy that I was WEARING any in the first place! WHO ARE YOU OTHER WOMEN IN THIS WORLD?
2. This is completely unrelated to anything, but I’ve recently decided that while I nodded along with a certain opinion in the past, I am ready to say I just totally don’t buy it. I pretty much totally disagree with the notion that those women on the late night HBO “Real Sex” show try to sell, the concept that stripping or, more often, burlesque, is empowering to women. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think it is DISempowering, either. If you get your rocks off by taking off your clothes and dancing around for an audience, there is NOTHING wrong with that. Good for you. More power to you. However, I have to disagree when you try to rationalize or justify it by saying it “empowers” women as a whole. I don’t think that strippers or burlesque dancers are degrading themselves as a general rule (obviously individual and situational), but I don’t think they’re making any great strides for female kind, either. You like to show your naked body to people. It’s not a subversive social statement, it’s semi-public nudity. 75% of the audience (being generous) is not appreciating your art, they’re appreciating your tits. I don’t have anything against stripping or nudie dancing. Just, you know, sack up and say what it is – naked for fun and profit.
3. I’m pretty sick of being told, “You’ll understand when you __________.” Whether it be get married, have a kid, get older, etc etc etc. I’m not a slobbering moron. I am pretty sure I understand a good portion of these things, at least in theory. Phil and I live together, have a joint bank account, do most everything together unless he is at work. I am pretty sure I “get” the whole functional, day to day-ness of being married. And no, I don’t have a kid, but I’ve been tired. Oh no, I totally understand. You, the one who has procreated, are the only one who knows what real tired is. No one else has ever been tired. Ever. EVER. If you have not expelled a baby from your body, you may think you’ve been tired, exhausted, ready to drop face first into your laptop, but you’d be wrong. Because only mommies know what tired really is. Anyway. I’m not eight. “You’ll understand when ________” no longer applies, like, ever. I may not have all the wisdom that years bring, but I am pretty sure that saying “I do,” having a baby, or any other life event doesn’t suddenly grant you special powers. I am reasonably certain that I possess the mental capacity to understand these basic concepts.
Did I miss LINK TO SOMEONE ELSE THURSDAY again? I think I did. See? This is why I hate travel. I can’t even blog correctly.
The title of this post, Internet, refers to two things.
Thing One:
I went dress shopping today, and it was not a total misery, even though my mother started off the day by telling me she liked my shirt but it made me look “heavier than I am.” And then she was shocked when I went to change it. She wasn’t being mean, it just didn’t come out the way she intended (I was wearing a much less fitted shirt than my usual preferences, and she wasn’t used to it, as I am quite set in my “style” ways). There were very few dresses we were flat out displeased with, and from the two shops we went to, I got a much better idea of what I’m looking for – or at least, what I’m not looking for (dropped waists + short legs = a surprisingly dead on impersonation of Toad).
We’ve even got two dresses tied in a dead heat at the moment, with a third not far enough behind to be eliminated. We took pictures of everything, but… I left my camera cord in Arizona.
DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?
(I will be picking up a card reader tomorrow in hopes that I will find a way to get Internet input without Phil having a peek – we’re being quite traditional about all of that.) Thing Two:
Have you ever read Hyperbole and a Half? If you haven’t, I don’t even know what to say to you. You should probably go over and read it right now, and that should probably convince you to continue. If you need more convincing, you should read this particular post, because if you are at all like me, you will probably be like OH MAN ME TOO and if you’re not at all like me yet you’re still reading my blog, you will still probably laugh REALLY HARD.
And if you’re STILL not convinced?
Look what Allie drew for me:
DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT?
You know how we are moving into a whole new house? That is the first art going on our walls, and it will probably be really hard to actually choose a wall for it, so I’m thinking we’ll put one copy above each of Brinkley’s beds (two), so that he knows where they are in the new house and then one copy in the bathroom, because every bathroom needs some classy art, and then one copy in the laundry room to cheer me up when I’m doing laundry! DO YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT!
Anyway, Internet, I wanted to write about dress shopping today, but it seems so pointless without pictures. I hope to write about it tomorrow, with pictures, but I’ll have to work out a way to keep Phil’s prying eyes away. Not that he’s all determined to ruin the surprise or anything, but you know, once you’re banned from something, it becomes much more likely that you will accidentally see it. Suggestions welcome, Internet.
February 16th is a very important day for me this year; I have a test that I really need to pass. I want to be a TSgt, not just because I have been an SSgt for way to long, but also I feel the need to have the next level of responsibility.
I am not sure how to explain it, but I’m worried I am not trying hard enough. I do study, but I flash forward in my mind to the day they announce the ranks and when my name is not on it I will just be kicking myself for not trying just that little bit more. I just want this so bad and not just for myself, but to help secure my future with TJ and any of our hypothetical children (I’m shooting for twins, cause why not). So these last few days of being ill and just being plain busy have made me very concerned about the looming date. I have made myself a deal though, even though with TJ gone this is going to be even harder, I will not play any form of video game what so ever until after my test. The days leading up to the test will only be filled with study, taking Brinkley to the park, and maybe the TV on, if only to have background noise.
So if I can do this I think I should get a gift of sorts, say either Dragon Age: Origins or Star Trek online. I am not sure which to get, but I think one of them will magically appear that day. Then of course in June when I find out the results of the test and they tell me that I am a new TSgt I think a present of the 52 inch tv variety would be in order. What do you think, Internet?
******
The above was written by Phil, but the Internet should be aware that we already own two quite satisfactorily large televisions and also a bedroom television and there are only two of us and for the love of pete I don’t understand why, if your current television is big enough, you need an even bigger television, especially at the cost of televisions these days, what with all of their bells and whistles and whatnot, and I’m not saying that Phil doesn’t deserve some kind of pat on the back should he pass his exam, but did you not see that he is rewarding himself with a video game for the mere act of taking the exam, and then he’s supposed to get 50 some odd inches of television if he passes it, almost as many inches of television, I might add, as there are inches of his girlfriend, if we’re speaking in terms of height and height only because if you think you’re coming at me with a tape measure to check how many inches of me there are, you have got another think coming, you buttcake and you know what? Forget it. No televisions for anyone, you jerks. — TJ
I bet, if you were looking for me, you’d be looking in Arizona right now, but that’s because you don’t pay attention when I talk. After a weekend of adventure, I an now laying on my parents’ couch in Pennsylvania, and there’s no diet soda, so I’m really not in a good mood about the whole thing.
Anyway, though, let me tell you about my weekend, because it’s way more interesting than anything that is going on here (my sister is sitting at the kitchen table, doing her taxes, saying things like “tell the Internet I itched my boob! No, don’t tell them that,” and not being decisive about it at all so guess what? I went with the boob thing).
Saturday morning, we got up relatively early (or at least, I did – Phil is always up early so Phil got up pretty normal) because we had a long day planned, but it was actually going to turn out to be way longer than we ever imagined. This is called heavy-handed foreshadowing.
I would have stayed in bed until right up until my first appointment of the day (hair at 12:30), but I had to make a t-shirt for Brinkley. I would tell you more about the t-shirt I made for Brinkley, but I unloaded all of the pictures from my camera onto my computer at home, and now I’m in PA with a MacBook, so I have to tell you, I’m feeling a little illustratively stifled. Anyway, I was making a t-shirt for Brinkley, with iron on letters, like you do, and one set of letters just refused to work. At all. Of course, they worked JUST ENOUGH TO RUIN THE ENTIRE T-SHIRT I HAD SPENT ALL MORNING ON, but I didn’t complain (yes I did). I didn’t whine (oh yes I did). Instead, we cut off the offending part of shirt and make Brinkley a belly shirt. Welcome to 1996, dog!
With that being done, all we had was places to be for the rest of the day. I got my hair done at 12:30 (Phil had a manicure). I got my make up done at 2 (Phil prepared a cooler with marrow bones for the dog). We had engagement pictures taken by Busy Bee Lauren at 4 in Mesa (I let Phil participate in that one).
For two people who really don’t like to have their picture taken and cannot smile on demand to save their lives, we did not end up having an absolutely miserable time getting the pictures done, which obviously is a testament to Lauren’s skill. We won’t have the pictures back for a few weeks, but we did get to keep a couple of pictures that had been used for effect in another picture, so feel free to tell us that we’re adorable, Internet.
The fish: The most flattering of all the animal faces.
While we were having our pictures done, a lovely couple named Jeremiah and his wife Jennifer, who like to read my blog together, which is both hysterical and awesome, and I forget where I’m going with this sentence, but anyway, they watched Brinkley for us for the pictures that Brinkley (and his t-shirt!) did not feature in. We asked to take them to dinner afterward, and they accepted, with Jeremiah saying that it was unlikely we were ever going to be in the East Valley again, seeing as how it is about an hour from our home. Little did he know! CHECK OUT THAT HAMFISTED FORESHADOWING.
Since we had the dog with us, we were kind of limited on where we could go, but fortunately, they know of a bar where Brinkley was totally welcome. Seriously. It is called the Monastery, and it’s like being in a backyard, right down to grilling your own food, which you pay for with your bank card and walk away without signing the slip. I mean, that’s what I did. I don’t know if you would want to take the same course of action.
We had a lovely dinner, and since I had a 7:30 am flight on Sunday, necessitating a 4am wake up, we called it a pretty early night and Phil and I headed back home, an HOUR AWAY, so that I could start packing. I always end up staying up all night the night before I travel anywhere, because everyone knows that packing a suitcase takes exactly as much time as you have. If you don’t have to be ready to go until 5am and you start packing at 10pm, it is going to take from 10pm to 5am and that’s just how packing goes.
So we ended up getting home for the night, finally around 9pm or so, I believe, and I screwed around for a while because, come on, I had ALL NIGHT TO PACK. Around 9:30 or so, I had settled down to check in to my flight and got to the part where I had to pay $23 GD dollars so they could toss my bag around like some kind of bag carnival ride, when I realized that I did not possess the tiny piece of plastic I needed to pay for said bag. AND OH YEAH, I DIDN’T REMEMBER SIGNING THE SLIP AT THE BAR AT ALL.
Phil, who had not been feeling well at all for the whole day and a couple of days leading up to that whole day, was… somewhat less than pleased with me, as we set out to go BACK to Mesa, and HOUR AWAY, AGAIN. And then an hour home. AGAIN.
Arriving home with the time closing in on midnight, I was somewhat less enthusiastic about packing for my trip. Deciding to test the theory that packing would take exactly as much time as I had, we both got in bed until the alarm went off at 4am. We had to leave at 5:30, and wouldn’t you know, the packing that usually takes me all night took exactly as much time as I had. Weird.
I spent both flights having an inner battle with myself, because the same shrieking child was on the plane from Phoenix to Chicago, and then Chicago to Scranton. He wasn’t crying. He was shrieking. You know, like kids do. And in my mind, I was at war, telling myself, “You know, his mother is probably pretty miserable, no one wants to be the cause of annoying a whole plane,” and also, “Well, she doesn’t LOOK that upset. If she’s upset, she should look more upset because I’M upset.” I totally get that keeping a kid quiet on a long plane ride is probably difficult, if not impossible. And that if it’s your kid, it’s probably very frustrating for you, or embarrassing, or upsetting, or whatever, to be the one with the screaming kid, and you certainly didn’t set out to upset the whole plane, and I should really have some sympathy. I really, truly told myself all of that over and over but in the end it didn’t matter how much I assured myself because OH MY GOD THAT KID SHRIEKED ACROSS THE ENTIRE UNITED STATES. I’m sorry, parents who have had the experience of holding a shrieking child in your lap. I really, truly tried to squash down my annoyance with sympathy but it DIDN’T WORK. I will willingly claim the title of Airborn Asshole if I need to.
Anyway, aside from having next to no sleep and leaving Phil in Arizona feeling quite unwell and the fact that my sister greeted me at the airport by bending over and waving her butt and saying, “Mom said I couldn’t moon you,” my travels were largely uneventful. I’ll be here in PA for about two weeks, which should be just enough time both for Phil to recover and not be such a whiny sick person and also for him to forget that I made him drive back and forth across Arizona a whole bunch of times.
Internet, I don’t even know what to say. I feel like we should say good bye, or farewell for now, or whatever that foreign thing people say because they think it’s romantic or whatever, and it means good bye until another time when we’ll see each other again, so saying it in a different language really makes this whole thing more dramatic than it needs to be.
Anyway, I’m kind of blown away by how busy you guys are going to be for the next month or so. I mean, on top of your jobs and your families and your own blogs, I’m really awed by how much you’re adding to your plate in the coming weeks.
Seriously, Internet, I salute you.
Our engagement pictures are tomorrow, so I imagine you’re eager to get started in helping me choose the one that makes our horrifical photo-smiles look the least terrifying, and then, of course, you’ll want to use your picture choosing momentum to swing right into initial Save the Date design concepts.
But then, I’m getting a little ahead of myself on your schedule! After all, I’m flying to Pennsylvania on Sunday, and shortly after that, real, viable wedding dress choices are going to come pouring in. I can only imagine the hours you’ll spend debating the choices amongst yourselves. I’m tired just thinking about it!
I’m willing to go along with your backbreaking pace, though, Internet. I mean, I’ll do my best, at least. You guys are right – is reasonable that while I’m out in Pennsylvania with my mom and sister and other attendant interested parties, that I find a cake maker and florist as well. If left to my own devices, I might throw my hands in the air and allow myself to be buried in the details! I don’t know what I’d do without your selfless service, Internet.
I’m really just floored by your go-go-go attitude and energy, Internet. Are you guys carbo loading or something? Because once I get back from PA, it’s time to get ready to move! As you’re already aware – I can tell by the way you’re already pre-researching on Ikea.com! – we only own two bedrooms worth of furniture and nothing else! A whole house to decorate, after the whole dress, cake, flowers and more? Damn, y’all! You’re out of control!
Do I even need to keep going, Internet? The engagement pictures, save the dates, the dress, all the dress accessories, the flowers, the cake, moving, decorating a whole house, helping us choose a second dog, oh man, tuxedos! Music! The amount of work to be done over the next nine months, starting tomorrow with the first Official Wedding Thing, it’s making my head spin!
But here you are, Internet, totally ready and raring to go. Internet, if I had half your energy, I can’t even list all the things I would have accomplished in my life by now! Jello that’s ready in 15 minutes, for one! I totally understand if you don’t have time to reply to my chatty emails and frivolous tweets for the rest of the year! Gosh! I’m going to get you a gift certificate for a massage at the end of all of this!
Internet, starting tomorrow, the next nine months are going to be kind of nutty, what with all the work you have to do and creative things you have to design and unique ideas you need to create and advice you need to give and decisions that must be democratically voted upon. It just boggles my mind that I sit here, shoving granola into my face by the handful, while you busy little bees not only run your own lives, but jump in full force to mine as well.
Give yourself a pre-emptive hand, Internet. You are totally going to deserve it.
I don’t know if what I’m about to say crosses some unspoken boundary Phil might have about what I’m allowed to put on the Internet.
HOWEVER, I’m not in bed because just coming up the STAIRS I was hit in the face with a wall of his butt-smell so thick the air is hazy.
Maybe as a man, that’s something he’ll be proud of when he wakes up. As a woman, I’m afraid laying too close to him might clog my pores.
LINK TO SOMEONE ELSE THURSDAY EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE PROBABLY READING THIS ON FRIDAY
So last week? I was really busy on Thursday, so I told myself I would just invent something called LINK TO SOMEONE ELSE THURSDAY and even though I probably wouldn’t do it every week, it would at least be convenient to have such a tradition established just in case laziness/busy-ness ever again fell on a Thursday. And? Thinking in an even more creative fashion? Since it’s my blog, if I didn’t have anything to write on a Tuesday, I could call that Tuesday LINK TO SOMEONE ELSE THURSDAY and it would be fine, because it’s my blog.
But you know what? Today is Thursday (EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE PROBABLY READING THIS ON FRIDAY) and I didn’t even manage the relatively small task of linking to someone else. I mean, talk about setting the bar low and then failing to meet even your own expectations, and do you know how most people have expectations for you, but your own expectations for yourself are actually way higher? I’m totally the opposite of that. I expect way less from me than other people do. That’s why you’re always so disappointed in me, but I remain relatively happy and carefree.
Honestly, you could learn something from me, Internet. It may sound like I’m trying to teach a course in Setting Ridiculously Small Goals and Not Even Bothering to Pretend to Achieve Them, and at first glance, that doesn’t sound like much. But if you really think it about it, Internet, aren’t I just teaching you that it’s okay to be you?
Temerity Jane – come for the humor and fart talk, stay for the moral at the end. I’m basically the Aesop of the Internet.
Anyway, Internet, the point is that early in the day, I made the mistake of listening to “Who Wants to Live Forever,” and if you didn’t know, that will basically shut down your entire day.
I was way too busy being morose and watching early episodes of Full House thinking about how sad it is the John Stamos doesn’t even realize that his mullet which seems so hip and happenin’ and bad boy stylin’ in the early 90s was going to be so mockworthy before he was even dead. And that little Stephanie Tanner has no idea she’s going to grow up to be a meth head.
What? Has it been a month already? It seems like just yesterday I was talking about Amanda Bynes!
Oh wait, that was yesterday, because a copy of Maxim with her draped across the cover with her bra showing has taken up residence in our bathroom and hasn’t budged for the last month or so. I’m not naming any names or giving any details but let’s just say that someone keeps pointing out, you know, “Child star!” and someone else’s comeback is always something along the lines of, “but legal adult!”
Anyway! Here we are again, busy Internet, at the start of another edition of TJ’s Cosmo Cliff’s Notes. This is the time of the month where I take time out to think about you – the busy people who don’t have the time to crack a Cosmo – and run through the whole issue for you, making sure that you have all the information you need to live your life as a fun, fearless Cosmo girl!
Let’s get started, y’all!
On the from the editor page, the one that reminds me of those news commercials I don’t get because honest to god I don’t care, the apparent editor tells us of a weird phenomenon – apparently, when young single women in the general ready-to-get-married stage of their life start working at Cosmo, they get engaged shortly afterward! The editor wonders if maybe it’s what they learned at Cosmo that lead them to land that man! This writer wonders if maybe seeing behind the scenes of Cosmo lead the to completely disavow everything they’ve ever read in Cosmo, allowing them to suddenly land a man! Agree to disagree, Ms. Kate White!
I love that they put the Hot Sheet right in front, because it should really be the first place any Cosmo girl in the know turns to, to stay abreast of trends! Speaking of “abreast,” apparently it is NOT SEXY to let your nipples pop out of your clothes! Abreast! See what I did there! That’s writing! Call me, Cosmo! Also, just FYI, if you want to look like a “fun loving chick” in your Facebook photos, have your picture taken while you’re walking! People apparently really like other people who can walk! Sorry, handicapped – Cosmo doesn’t really have any instructions on how you can use clever camera tricks and Facebook to make yourself look like a “fun loving chick.”
Ah, the cover story – Anna Faris is the fun, fearless female of the year! I admit I was surprised when I saw that on the cover, but I figured the story would explain what she’s been up to. So I read it. And. Well. She hasn’t actually made any notable movies in some time – the article keeps referencing Just Friends and House Bunny. But! She did “land a man!” You go, Anna! There’s nothing I consider more “fun” and “fearless” than perpetuating ditzy blonde stereotypes in the media and then being applauded for managing to get married! I really feel you represent me, Anna. I feel so close to you right now. Can you teach me to hair twirl?
Apparently, the fact that Phil sleeps on his back means that he’s confident and secure, because he leaves his… you know… areas… open. It’s rare time I do this, guys, but I’m going to have to disagree with Cosmo. Phil sleeps on the back for the exact opposite reason. It’s not because he’s confident, it’s because he’s scared. I’m a flailer, y’all. His… you know… areas… are way more vulnerable if he’s on his side facing me. It’s not a confidence move, it’s a survival of the species move. For those of you who are curious, if your boyfriend/husband sleeps on his stomach/side/back/other, he possesses some generic, easily-applied-to-anyone personality trait.
After I disagreed with Cosmo there, I had a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, feeling that Cosmo and I were a little at odds, but luckily, it was rectified shortly, on the Fun, Fearless Fashion page. This chick is wearing a bodysuit! And she appears to be serious about it! That is fearless!
If you’re ready to turn your whole outfit into straight up sexy, this is how you do it: a dress and shoes that both heavily feature cut outs or that cage style. Since only like, a tiny fraction of the population is devoid of enough body fat to make those look good, and I have faith that Cosmo wouldn’t be choosing all of their featured fashions based on only a small sliver of the population (no! They would never!), I think it’s safe to assume that Cosmo is telling us that the bathing suit/lawn chair effect - you know, the one where your thighs squish through the mesh of the chair? – is totally in this year. Top it off with earrings shaped like arrows directing the way to your breasts/vagina and pasties (seriously – pasties) and you’re all sexed up! Or out. You’re sexed… something. Actually, you’re gross, and you have mesh prints and pastie-stick all over you.
Oh! I love these sections where they show us one ridiculously expensive piece of clothing, but then console us by showing all the stuff we could buy instead if we go with poor knock offs. For example – a $216 flowered skirt. Well, instead of that, you can buy a $59 flowered skirt, a $55 plain red t-shirt AND? A $90 stack of bracelets, all for just $203.99! That’s a savings of $12! You could buy a weird… jacket thing… for $268, or, you could get an uglier, weirder version of the jacket for $68, a $100 dress and a $100 purse, for just $267! Or? OR? Groceries!
Beauty News – Celebrities Bump it up! And Cosmo would like to tell you how it’s done! First, grow an extra set of hands and develop some coordination and the years of hairstyling experience needed to make this look possible. Or? Buy a Bump It. You’re not too cool for Bump Its, Cosmo, get over yourself.
Secret Weapons for Valentine’s Day – What, because now it’s war? Us against them? I SHALL WEAR PERFUME AND YOU SHALL BE FOOLED INTO BRINGING ME A CANDY! I have won Valentine’s Day!
A reader has a question! “Should I use the same brand of shampoo and conditioner?” Why? Because that’s what it says on the bottle? Do you lather, rinse and repeat as well? How do you know when to stop? Some people are sadly beyond even Cosmo’s help, I fear.
GUY WATCH: This month, it’s a bunch of pictures of former American Idol contestants, taken when they were mid-sing. Because… oh my god, you guys. Giggle! Elbow! Blush! If you take a picture of someone signing a big note? They squeeze their eyes shut and open their mouths real wide! Giggle! It’s like… you know!
Cosmo, I need to hand it to you. Every month, I think you just can’t possibly impress me more.
For the first time I ever, I think, I’m calling Cosmo out on a flat out lie. The 99 Hot New Sex Tips promised on the cover? I actually read them all. Not a single one of these is anything that could even remotely be termed “new.” I’m not a sex expert. Hell, I’m not even very good at it. I’m a pretty awkward person and as you would expect, that translates to the bedroom. In fact, it may even be amplified in that environment. And even STILL. Not only is none of this new, it’s not even remotely beyond me. Your more sexually advanced readers – because that’s what Cosmo’s about, right? Landing men and getting them in bed and being good at sex, that’s how you become a fun, fearless female, right? Anyway, the advanced readers are going to start to catch on to this shit soon, Cosmo. If you say you have new sex tips from now on, you better have discovered a new orifice, or else just shut the hell up with this insulting bull shit. “Touch his penis!” I’m going to touch you with my fist.
If you’ve accidentally turned your man into a girl by recognizing the fact that sometimes men like to look good, too, and doing something stupid like lending him your expensive soap (EVERYONE KNOWS MEN DON’T USE SPECIAL FACE SOAP! That would mean they cared about their appearance like NORMAL HUMANS!!), never fear. Cosmo can help! What you need to do is take him to do some things that only men do. Like watch football, or play a video game. He’ll be back to normal right away, and you won’t have to worry any more about him being comfortable and secure enough around you to express more than one dimension of his personality!
I’m skipping the whole Fun, Fearless Males section – it’s kind of ridiculous, why don’t they just have one category? After all, the more you act like a dude or a non-standard woman, and deemphasize standard womanly qualities that it is okay to be proud of – the more of a fun, fearless female you are. So why don’t we just rank them all together if being fearless generally equates to being more dude-like? Oh, Nathan Fillion is in here! Hell yeah, Captain Hammer!
These Healthy Foods Can Make You Fat Just Like Any Other Food in the World You Don’t Eat in Moderation! Fixed that title for you, Cosmo.
I’m skipping the fertility questions section as well – sorry, y’all – because I don’t feel like Cosmo is a place where you should even consider getting any kind of information on fertility. At all. Ever. Cosmo’s party line should be “Use a Condom, Every Time.” And that’s it.
In their innovative, groundbreaking, sure to rock some worlds article “This is What Love Looks Like Now,” Cosmo does a public service for those just hopping out of their time machines from 1955 and dedicates a whole article to letting us know that not only do people of different races date, but that interracial couples are just like “normal” couples!
THE THONG IS DEAD! Companion story I’m working on: Telling Women What To Wear Under Their Clothes Like You Have a Dog in This Fight At All is Also Dead!
The clothes section – I’m not bothering except to tell you that if you’re the type who picks up Cosmo in the grocery store line, or gets a subscription and has time to sit down and read it, there is literally no space in your life for any of these clothes. If you’re reading Cosmo, you are not living the lifestyle that Cosmo seems to think we all are. Want to argue with me? Ok. Where are you going to wear these leggings, the skin tight ones with the zupper from your ankle to your asshole? I’m not insulting you. I’m making fun of Cosmo. That’s the point.
His Pet Peeve: “She sets up my single friends with her single friends — even if they’re a bad match. Then she holds it against me when it fizzles!” And then I mentally added the following, “So I guess what I’m really saying is that I’m dating a woman who believes that everyone needs to be with someone, regardless of whether or not they actually get along – it’s all about not dying alone – and then? She’s irrational on top of that.”
That’s it for this month, Internet. There was literally nothing else in Cosmo worth more than a glance, let alone worth my time to make fun of.
