The Truth About Short Hair

Bye hair!

Some of you may remember that last year I had an internal and then external debate over whether or not to cut my hair short.  In the end I decided to risk it (YOLO!) and go short.

Of course prior to making that decision I did tons of research. I read quite a few blogs and articles about things to know and what the experience would be like. Since I’ve now had short hair for almost a year, and consider myself a fount of knowledge for life in general, I decided the nice thing to do would share my personal revelations on the experience.

Brace yourselves.

Short hair!

I was leaning towards a pro/con list, but have decided on a different approach. We shall go through various life events, compare the long hair to short hair experience, and pick the winner for that category.

Let’s start with the obvious one…

MAINTENANCE

Long Hair Experience – for me, long hair was super easy. I could wash it at night, braid it for bed, and go a few days (assuming I didn’t jazzercise) before I had to wash it again. Bad hair days could be hidden with a ponytail or a twist. I could skip haircuts with no drawbacks except maybe some split ends, which I sometimes fixed myself.

Short Hair Experience - I find maintaining my short hair much more effort. I can skip a haircut but it’s going to do interesting things. If I run out of product I’m screwed. If I buy the wrong product I’m screwed sideways. If I don’t wash it, or at least get it wet every day, I look like an unkempt boy.

WINNER: I think it’s pretty obvious that LHE is the winner here.

COLOR

Short Hair Experience – I almost dyed of shock (dyed… get it?? HAHAHA) when I could get away with one box of hair dye. I don’t have to pay extra at the salon anymore. It doesn’t take hours to wash the dye out. It’s glorious!! Hell, I should dye my hair more. What am I doing this weekend…

Long Hair Experience – egad I don’t even want to get into it! Years of my life are gone trying to get dye through my ridiculously thick hair. YEARS. AND MONEY. SO MUCH MONEY.

Winner: SHE, for realz.

REACTIONS

Long Hair Experience – people loved my hair long. To a somewhat unsettling level. They also seemed to feel like they had a weird right to touch my hair. Strangers would come up and stroke it. True story. It’s weird.

Short Hair Experience – some people love my hair short, but there are also very emphatic others that can’t stop saying “I liked your hair long better.” In fact, people seem to feel like they have a weird right to remark on my hair choice now that it’s short. It’s not uncommon for strangers to helpfully suggest “but you’d be so much prettier if your hair was long,” or “guys would like you better with long hair.” They don’t touch it though, so that’s nice.

Winner: I’m going to call this one a tie.

EXERCISE

Long Hair Experience – fuck the world if you forget a hair tie before working out. Seriously, it’s the worst.

Short Hair Experience – there are some layers near my face that get in my eyes and are obnoxious, but otherwise it’s ridiculously easy to work out and to wash my hair afterwards.

Winner: SHE is the obvious leader here.

DANCING

Short Hair Experience – it is kind of nice to not have a bunch of heavy, sweaty hair on my neck.

Long Hair Experience – however, there’s nothing quite like tossing your hair every which way. I actually miss my long hair the most when I’m dancing.

Winner: LHE, oddly enough.

BED

Long Hair Experience – I actually slept with my hair in a braid at night, because otherwise I woke up tangled in my own hair. While this is a little annoying, on the other hand there is something incredibly sensual about getting ready for bed with long hair. That moment when you take off your clothes and your hair brushes your bare back… amazing.

Short Hair Experience – um, there’s really not much to say. I go to bed. I wake up. My hair is disheveled and not as adorable but it’s not a life ruiner. In fact, it’s quite nice overall.

Winner: SHE, but there are definitely things about the LHE I miss a bit.

“BED” (otherwise known as SEX)

Long Hair Experience – I just said that the mere act of sleeping tangled my hair. Now imagine sex. Imagine trying to unravel those knots the next day (because who goes “time out! I need to do something about my hair!” I mean I have, but it definitely dampens the mood). No really, imagine it. Imagine every time you lean over and there’s a cloud of hair in your face. Imagine trying to cuddle and it getting stuck to another sweaty body. Are you horrified yet?

Short Hair Experience – much, MUCH better than long hair, to say the least.

Winner: Seriously like it could be anything other than SHE.

So if we count them up… long hair has two wins, short hair has four, and we have one tie. This probably explains why I’ve been in no hurry to grow my hair back.

A word to the wise though. If you are talking to me, or really to any person that recently cut their hair short, do not, for the love of anything you hold holy, DO NOT ask me if I’m “ever going to grow my hair long hair again??” I consider this the world’s stupidest question. Assuming I don’t actually die at 30, I have many, many years of life ahead of me. How can I even possibly know what I’ll want to do with my hair five years from now? Ten years from now? Fifteen? You see where I’m going with this, so save us both the trouble and don’t ask stupid questions.

It’s All About Finding the Right Stripper

In the course of events over lunch, I was talking about movies and said something like “a lot of my favorite movies have strippers in them.” This statement stayed in my head during the day. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was true. I’m not entirely sure what that means. Does this say something about me as a person? Let’s pretend it doesn’t.

But I thought it would only be fair to share with you some of these fabulous movies. I was going to rank them but had a really tough time doing so. They’re all good for various reasons. Then as I thought about it, I realized that’s the best part! Even looking at just my 4 favorite stripper movies, you have a movie to cover EVERY POSSIBLE MOTIVE FOR WATCHING A MOVIE!!

Okay, that’s an exaggeration, clearly, as some of you have all sorts of different motives and moods than me, but there’s still a nice range available. Again, that’s counting only my favorite stripper movies. I’m not even including more famous and obvious ones like Showgirls, Flashdance, or The Full Monty. So here follows a few sample moods for watching a movie, and the appropriate stripper movie for that moment.

Mood 1: “Seriously I need to non-stop laugh.” -> We’re The Millers

This movie is more mainstream than some of the others so you probably heard of it before, maybe even watched it before. And why not, it’s fantastic! The cast includes Jennifer Aniston, Jason Sudeikis, Emma Roberts, and Nick Offerman just to name a few.

The stripper in this movie is Jennifer Aniston. The fact that I actively dislike Jennifer Aniston and still love this movies speaks to both its comedy, and how well she does feisty stripper Rose.

Best scene: the full first kiss scene, without a doubt.

Mood 2: “I really just want to watch people pulverize the crap out of each other in a completely unrealistic fashion.”   -> Bitch Slap

You probably wouldn’t recognize any of the main cast, but this move (a steal from the $5 bin) includes cameos from Kevin Sorbo, Lucy Lawless, and Renee O’Connor. It also would work for the “let’s watch a lot of hot women show off their body and have everyone be a lesbian” viewing crowd, if such a crowd exists.

The stripper for this one is named Trixie, and played by Julia Voth. By the end of the movie she is my favorite character there!

Best scene: hmm, it’s a toss between the very end, and the church confession scene.

Mood 3: “Right now I need a romance movie that doesn’t make me hate everyone with its unrealistic perfection and ridiculous glamorized kissing and sex scenes.” -> My Awkward Sexual Adventure

If you haven’t seen this before it’s currently on Netflix. I randomly discovered it a few weeks ago. None of the actors were particularly noteworthy to me except that Emily Hampshire was in another Netflix find from the fall: The Returned.

Julia may be my favorite stripper so far in life. It’s a very close tie with our final stripper. Emily Hampshire is so different from the only other role I’ve seen her in that I have to commend the performance. Okay yes, that’s a really narrow data set to make a judgment on, but screw you. It’s amazing. And awkward. And amazing. This movie also prompted a very long conversation around corsets (which we all know I love).

Best scene: The fruit. I think it’s cantaloupe? I don’t really know fruit. I know what is both amusing and kinda sexy though. *cue growl and claw swipe motion*

Mood 4: “Please warm the cockles of my heart. Also have strippers. And Hugh Jackman.” -> Butter

 I saved the best for last! I love this movie. I love this movie in ways you cannot even imagine. A ridiculous number of stars are in it, but clearly Hugh Jackman is the one that matters. It’s heartwarming, and funny, and raunchy, and ridiculous all at the same time. Why am I not watching this right now!? What am I doing with my life!?? Ooo, now I know what I’m doing tomorrow…

Olivia Wilde plays stripper Brooke, as I said above potentially my favorite stripper ever. Every time she opens her mouth she says something that makes me cackle. My personal favorite, “So you want a cookie ‘cause you’re going to get pregnant? I get pregnant, like, once a month!!”

Best scene: wow, I am having an incredibly hard time picking one! I keep second-guessing myself because IT’S ALL SO GOOD.  Okay, okay, twist my arm, and I’d probably say… when the contestants all explain their sculptures. Oh the LOLz. 

So those are my favorite stripper movies! Definitely share if you have other favorites, or if you also agree with these picks!

F*** the Beholder, You Are Beautiful

All of the recent press around Fifty Shades of Grey has been reminding me of one (of many) of the reasons I hate both that book and the whole Twilight series. Beyond the crappy writing and lack of personality for the main character, both books share this really annoying habit where the female lead has men falling at her feet but continually thinks herself unattractive. This drives me more insane than even the “Inner Goddess” crap (I mean really, your response to something is that your Inner Goddess gets in a lotus position? If such a thing existed, my Inner Goddess would be more along the lines of Inner Sakura. She’d alternatively want to beat the crap out of people and jump their bones. Maybe eat some chocolate too).

To me, this comes across as a really horrible manifestation of the pervading habit of girls to say/think they’re not as pretty as they are.

Let’s start with a common example. Go back quite a few years in your memory, and think of the movie Mean Girls.  Sure, it seems funny when Regina traps Cady into admitting she’s pretty and acting like it’s a horrible thing. I’m not going to lie, I laughed. The problem is that behind that funny scene is a truth. Women are judged for admitting they are attractive. Even if a woman is stunningly beautiful, she is immediately condemned in our minds. Saying you’re “hot” or “beautiful” is tantamount to having a huge ego. Thus women have learned to downplay how they talk about their attractiveness.

I was playing around on imdb.com the other day, and I found this quote from one of my favorite actresses, Gemma Arterton: “In comparison to many actresses I think I’m really average – when I got the Bond film Quantum of Solace there was this big hoo-ha about me not being hot enough, I have to say I agree – I don’t think I’m in that realm.”

BEAUTIFUL, DAMNIT

Personally, I find Gemma stunningly beautiful, but even she feels the need to negatively compare herself to others. This is a common response from women – maybe I’m hot/pretty/beautiful, but not as hot/pretty/beautiful as someone else.

There are two issues at work here. One, again, is the culture that women shouldn’t admit they’re crazy attractive. If you don’t believe me yet that this is a thing, I have more examples for you. We laud the girl that “doesn’t know she’s beautiful.” Not only are there songs about it (here’s looking at you, One Direction), there are movies, cartoons, and of course books. The whole idea of a book like Fifty Shades of Grey making the main character not know her own beauty worth is that then, as readers, we can “relate.” Because of course if you’re a girl, you don’t know you’re attractive, and that makes you hotter.

WTF WORLD!?

The bigger problem is the second issue in play – insecurity. A lot of times the reason women won’t celebrate their attractiveness is because they genuinely don’t believe it. They are falling into the trap of comparing themselves to others, and they don’t like the comparison. You’ll find people are much more willing to own up to being “pretty” than “beautiful,” because pretty is less threatening. And if you have even a hint of insecurity (which you probably do), saying you’re “beautiful” opens up the floodgates for criticism. Which WILL happen. We have tons of articles about all our beautiful celebrities, and then minutes later we’ll condemn them for bad makeup, poor clothing choice, or messed up hair. So for girls that don’t think they measure up to that level, how are they supposed to feel confident enough to declare their beauty?

I’m not saying that everyone falls into the traditional “beauty” standards. I’m also not saying they should. The whole issue with beauty is that it’s a question of perception. What I find attractive is not the same thing you find attractive, EVEN WHEN COMPARING TRADITIONALLY ATTRACTIVE EXAMPLES. Get past the idea that you should be thin, blond, big-eyed, and pouty-lipped.

What I am saying, is that women shouldn’t be afraid to celebrate their own beauty. I know it’s hard. Trust me, I know. Some people suggest things like picking favorite features and feeling confident in those. That’s not a bad idea, depending on how you go about it.

When I was younger I decided I really liked my lips because everyone told me that plump lips are good, and if nothing else you can absolutely say my lips are plump. In a world where beauty is subjective, that seemed like the easiest, concrete reason to like a feature. Then one day I was hanging out with a then ex-boyfriend in the middle of the night, and we randomly got on the topic of my good features, and to my shock my lips were not one of them, because, as he told me, “they’re not that great.” That was a huge blow to the confidence scale for awhile. Since I had picked this feature because of other people’s opinion, suddenly having a bad opinion threw me for a loop. If people didn’t like the features I thought they should like, how could I be confident about any of them?

So trust me when I say I know the struggle. It feels like it should be better to underestimate your beauty than to overestimate it, and have people disagree.

But that’s stupid. You need to remember first of all that your beauty does NOT determine your worth as a person. And second, since beauty is subjective STOP trying to live up to someone’s standards. Figure out what you like about how you look, and for the love of all that’s holy, BE CONFIDENT IN IT.

I think books like Fifty Shades of Grey and Twilight teach us to not believe in our own beauty. They tell girls to base their confidence solely on what some guy (Edward, Christian) says about it, when they should be teaching them to celebrate their beauty no matter what.  I’d rather teach girls to be confident in who they are, and yes, their physical appearance is part of that. You should know you’re beautiful in some way, but you should also know it’s only one part of what makes you, you. Beauty should never be your everything, but you also shouldn’t downplay what you like about yourself just because of other people’s opinions.  

For the record, I like my lips again. Not because I think I should like them, but because they’re soft, expressive, and I love that I can wear almost any lip color and still work it. I’d like them more if they wouldn’t turn blue so easily, but that’s another matter. And maybe there are people that think “they’re not that great,” but I don’t see how that changes the things I like about them. Maybe they’ll never be as plump as Angelina Jolie’s lips, but I don’t see why I should care about her. In fact, I don’t see why I need to even give you reasons for why I like them or anything else about myself. I don’t justify liking my car, or my excessive love of Taco Bell, so why need to justify what I like about my appearance?

 

I want you to know what things about yourself you find beautiful and rock it with the same confidence and faith as anything else you truly believe. It might not feel easy, but the more you can declare to yourself “I’m hot/pretty/drop dead gorgeous/beautiful” (feel free to use your preferred descriptive) the more confident you’ll feel saying it, and that is its own kind of beauty.

A Neek and Misfit's Guide to Dating

So you may or may not already be aware that my friend Erin was my inspiration to start writing a blog. I look to Erin as a mentor as well as being a kickass friend, so I have been very touched by her support as I developed my writing. I will say right here and now that if it wasn’t for Erin I would never have attempted, let alone made it through, my NaNoWriMo adventure in November.

We like to discuss our ideas for posts together, and since we are the same person (on some levels) there are a lot of times when we have some overlap. Additionally, both Erin and I may be mildly obsessed with Buzzfeed. We discovered this post (which you should read first) from Buzzfeed Community member Doriean Stevenson back in February. Old timey dating advice is hysterical but also mildly disturbing, so we thought maybe we should add our take to the discussion to keep it fresh. Thus was born our first joint post!

Part one of the post appeared on the Island and part two is here below. Yes, you should read part one before part two if you haven't already. Think of it as a cross-country conversation (since we sadly don’t live in the same state anymore) between Erin and I during happy hour. Apparently we were both hitting the wine as we worked on this, which is basically the same thing and half the reason why it’s so awesome. #hemingwaywasadrunk 

My comments below are in black, and Erin's responses are in blue. This is the reverse of part one. Why? We like to keep people on their toes.

#8
The main problem I have with this is the alleged link between jokes at dinner and sarcasm. I demand data to support this conclusion. Does this mean if I joke at other points of the day I won’t become sarcastic? What about joking during breakfast? It must have something to do with the type of food you’re eating while joking, which is why breakfast is safe. So basically I’ve taken this to mean that joking is still acceptable as long as you have breakfast for dinner. Done.

Waffles are pretty funny. And so are pancakes when people make pancake faces using bananas and bacon. Of course, breakfast for dinner is the best meal I can think of and now I want to make pancakes. I also have to wonder if we’re allowed to make jokes at other times of the day. What if we’re no longer at dinner and I make a joke on the way to the car? Is car walking sarcasm acceptable? If so, then I will cultivate this as new marketable skill.
#9
Now this might just be me, but there are very few people I can stand to see more than three evenings during the week on a consistent basis. I need a lot of me time. If there was a guy that I could put up with that much I suppose I might as well get engaged to them.
Of course these days, “visiting a lady” probably also entails spending the night, at which point, as per Sheldon Cooper’s definition of dating, you’re technically living together. See definition below:
“A girlfriend shall be deemed quote living with un-quote Leonard when she has stayed over for A, ten consecutive nights or B, more than nine nights in a three week period or C: all the weekends of a given month plus three weeknights.”

I can’t disagree with Sheldon Cooper. Like you, I also need me time because I’m an introvert and I need time to recharge before I deal with people again. My apartment is too small for a guy to be around that much so until I find a larger place where we could both have our space, I’m okay with this one.
#10
I actually agree with the idea of this one, but I think it needs tweaking. I would suggest that you never accept a proposal from someone under the following circumstances:
They just had a near-death experience
They’re drunk
They’re under the influence of mind altering drugs (whether they be recreational or medical makes no difference)
Their nemesis just got engaged
That being said, I would note that both my father and brother somewhat proposed while drunk, and while this ended up working out for my father, it didn’t end well for my brother.

I’m so glad that you mentioned having a nemesis! You should never do anything if a person’s (or your) nemesis just did the same thing. This will never end well. I would also like to add the following items to our list of circumstances in which you should never accept a proposal:

They just had lunch with their mother.
Their sibling just got married, had a baby, or bought a home. Or all three.
They’ve spent the last several hours on whichever social media site they prefer seeing all the things that all the people are doing that they’re not.
They often begin sentences with “I liked (insert subject) before liking them was cool.”
They just attended a high school or college reunion.
They just returned from their best friend’s bachelor/bachelorette party in Las Vegas.
They just got a new phone and have not mastered the autocorrect settings.
They are a werewolf.

#11
For serious. This is pretty much unavoidable, but using my life theory as determined by The Sims you can help cut down on some of the unpleasantness. Oh what, you’ve never heard of my Sims Life Theory? No worries.
If you’ve never played The Sims before, the main thing to know is that people have several bars, including a “social” bar, that affect their overall happiness. To keep the social bar full the Sim must engage in social interaction they enjoy. This generally means it is with a person they like, or it’s something they’ve demonstrated liking before. For example, some Sims like a lot of jokes in their conversation. Some get pissy about people that joke too much (they’re probably afraid of that link with sarcasm mentioned above). The important thing is that every Sim needs a different level of interaction to get their bar full, and then the bar decays at different rates.
What this boils down to is that it’s important to know how much interaction your partner likes. If their bar gets full quickly and you keep on joking around when they want to focus on their low food bar or their full bladder bar, it’s not going to end well. This is probably what drives people to cannibalism.

I would probably die in the Sims world. Or become the cannibal in the neighborhood. Does reading quietly at home with the cat while drinking a glass of wine have any value in the Sims world?
\#12
I suck at leaving. Unless I legitimately have something I need to do, I tend to be the person that lingers. This probably ties in with my #FOMO issues. I am convinced that if I leave a party, or leave my friends, something awesome will happen. This fear is more prevalent in our generation than you realize. Besides earning a catchy abbreviation, it has also shown up in popular shows like How I Met Your Mother where the person leaving and missing the awesomeness becomes known as the Blitz. You know what, it probably would behoove me to start leaving things more often. This might be my May project. Or maybe June, because there should be some good stuff going on in May…

One of my favorite movies from the late 80s is Shag. It’s about a group of friends in 1964 South Carolina who take a trip to Myrtle Beach to have one last adventure before they head off to their futures. Annabeth Gish plays Pudge (her real name is Caroline) and Bridget Fonda plays Malaina. Malaina is the authority on boys and as you can guess from the nickname, Pudge is the quiet, awkward one who used to be fat. Anyway, Pudge falls for a boy named Chip and Malaina’s advice to her is to treat him like dirt, walk away, and then give him 10 minutes to apologize (even if he did nothing). That’s how you get your man - you treat them poorly and walk away. Pudge listens to this nonsense then decides Malaina is wrong. She and Chip enter that dance contest and all is righted in the universe. I guess the whole art of leaving idea is to cultivate your mystery because mystery equals allure. And allure is what all the men in the world are interested in. Or something.
#13
I’m not going to lie, I instantly judge people based on their spelling and grammar. I am willing to overlook what I view as “style” choices, like texting/typing ppl instead of people, if they appear sparingly. Pure misspelling though is an instant turnoff. Especially since almost everything this day has spell check! What, are you deliberately misspelling those messages? Do you think that makes you cool?! It doesn’t.  It makes me want to smack you roughly about the head with a dictionary so I can pretend it may be brain damage causing the issue.

I started teaching high school right around the time texting was surpassing instant messaging as the communication choice of teenagers. I spent countless evenings grading writing assignments that included text speak rather than actual words. Between that and the misspellings, the papers were always a sea of red. I could never be this blunt with my students but what was always going through my mind as I graded was, “This makes you look like an idiot.”

There’s a line the song “Friday Night” by The Darkness that sums up my feelings about this:

See the lady I adore
Dancing on the dancing floor
Dancing on a Friday night
God, the way she moves me
To write bad poetry
Dancing on a Friday night
With you.

I don’t care if you write bad poetry about me, just make sure it’s spelled correctly.


#14
Not to bring in some political madness or anything, but how does that account for same-sex relationships? Are they automatically better?
Taking gender out of it, I actually think this ties in with this amazing theory that some of my old coworkers introduced me to (old as in sadly former, not old as in age. If for some reason they end up reading this please do not get mad and come to Texas to injure me) which is called Love Languages. The whole idea is that people communicate their affection based on they would want to feel loved, when you should find out what your partner likes and use that method. Apparently I respond best to people paying attention to me, and doing favors for me. That makes soooooo much sense and explains like half of my lifetime crushes.
I’d definitely suggest checking out this theory. Here’s the website: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/

Are you sure we’re not the same person? I just took the Love Languages quiz and I also like people to pay attention to me through quality time and for them to do things for me. This makes a ton of sense if I look at my life. What I think we’re getting at is that people need to communicate with one another about what they want and don’t want in relationships. It’s not to say that we shouldn’t compromise when needed but it’s important to understand how the person you love or care for deeply responds best or what they need to feel loved and appreciated. One of my friends told me, not too long after the birth of her first child, that the only thing she wanted from her husband was for him to do the dishes. She would change the diapers, get up in the middle of the night, whatever else but she had no energy for the dishes. That was more important to her than any token or kind word he could have said - she needed the gesture. So I guess what we’re both saying is that, yes, each person loves and wants to be loved in their own way. It’s the combination of the two parts that makes it work.


#15
Because I basically live my life off Jennifer Crusie books, I would simplify this to a quote from Faking It:
“Very few people mate for life with the people they fall for at twelve. Doesn't mean it isn't real, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, doesn't mean it doesn't matter, but basically, we're talking a practice swing in the big game of love.”
Of course if you have a foolproof method for identifying which is a practice swing and which is the big game, then you should tell me. Or alternatively write a book about it and make a million dollars (and then share with me).  

I too love Jennifer Crusie (Jessica introduced me to her) and love this quote so much. I remember the boy I liked at age 12 would not even be on my radar now mostly because he insisted on wearing his collar popped every time he wore a polo shirt. I could also argue that the last guy I dated is not someone I would consider today either and that wasn’t that long ago. We all need our practice swings. I would also say that if anyone thinks fly-fishing is easy, they have never seen the movie A River Runs Through It. However, it’s also possible I was blinded by Craig Sheffer’s attractiveness.

And that's it for us! I hope you enjoyed our expert advice, and keep it in mind as you frolic about this weekend whether you're seeking a mate, currently in a relationship, or partial to sheep. #nojudge

Thus It Will Be: Grudge Who Grudge

You know all those people (including me) that say they’re in love with a fictional character? Well, there are also those of us that are in love with a historical figure. I know, I know, but it happens.

There are several different historical figures I have a bit of a crush on. I can read about people like Caesar, Cleopatra, and Marie Antoinette until the cows come home, which since I don’t live on a farm means I do a lot of reading. But while their stories are interesting, and even though I have a bit of a vendetta against Octavian, it’s nothing like the way I get about my true historical love.

Who is it, you may wonder. A great American like George Washington? A prime man specimen such as Marc Antony? No, my love is none other than the glorious and misunderstood Anne Boleyn.

I’m not entirely sure why I love Anne quite so much. Henry VIII’s wives and scandals are certainly fascinating. Sometimes I’ll read about the other wives or about Henry himself, but it’s not really the same. I want to scream with frustration when Henry starts to stray to that simpleton Jane Seymour. Nor can I ever bring myself to deal with anything that is sympathetic to Catherine of Aragon.

Which is actually a fascinating example of what my mother calls my “delightful inconsistencies.” By all accounts I should be on the side of Catherine. She did nothing wrong. She was a faithful wife, a wonderful person, and she stubbornly refused to submit. Why do I hate her? I don’t know! But I can’t stop myself!!

If it wasn’t for Catherine, Henry would have been able to marry Anne much earlier. If Anne could have married Henry earlier instead of having to draw him on for years (and years… and years) she would have been less stressed and probably could have given birth to a son instead of having a miscarriage. If she had given Henry a son, he wouldn’t have killed her. Yeah, he probably would have gotten tired of her eventually and had more mistresses on the side, but he wouldn’t have needed to get rid of her because she would have provided the one thing he wanted.

Not only was my poor Anne killed over the ridiculous whims of a fat, stupid man, she has been horribly slandered since her death. The rumors of her time that she was a witch continue to pop up again and again. There are websites that list her having a 6^th finger and a huge mole on her neck as FACTS that caused the witchcraft charges. Um, what? You really think a spoiled brat of a king would pursue a “deformed” woman for years?

Even popular novels like The Other Boleyn Girl malign Anne’s character. They make it seem like she was a selfish, ruthless girl that didn’t even care about her own siblings.

Anne wasn’t a saint. She had to make some sacrifices to make it to royalty and there’s some evidence she may have some vendetta issues (which I totally support). I believe she was a good person though, and if you look for it there is just as much evidence on her side too.

Why do I love Anne so much? I don’t know. Some of it is so instinctive I can’t really explain it well. When my love loses her head, I lose my mind. Want to see my cry? Any movie/show that shows her being beheaded is guaranteed to make me start tearing up. And disclaimer, in case you don’t know me that well, I DO NOT cry easily.

On the other hand some of it is more apparent. Anne Boleyn was clever, pretty, and intelligent. Instead of accepting society’s role that she could be the king’s mistress or nothing, she made it so she could be queen. She managed to keep the king enthralled for years despite the easy availability of so many other pretty, easy women. It wasn’t magic like they claim, but it was still damn impressive.

When Rangers Make You Randy

Apparently the Green Ranger is coming to Austin in November for Comic Con! I found out a few weeks ago and I have been super excited. I may actually go. I say this not because I am against going to cons, but because as my friend Erin has already discussed we keep planning to go to Dragon Con and failing at it. But I think I’m legit going to make the Austin Comic Con happen, if for no other reason than the fact that the Green Ranger will be there.

Now I don’t talk about the Power Rangers as much as other things (like Vampire Diaries and jazzercise, which you’ve heard about many a time) but I have certainly mentioned them before. When the Power Rangers came out all the kids in my neighborhood fell in love with the show. We jostled over who got to be which ranger. Luckily this was when I was the alpha of the group (as opposed to later in the days of the Spice Girls when my friend Bri was alpha and we had to follow her rulings) so I got dibs on the Pink Ranger.

If you aren’t familiar with the Power Rangers, it was a group of teenagers that were given special coins that allowed them to “morph” into ninja warriors that also had “zords” which were basically like giant machines they used to fight giant monsters. It was rather ingenious that the teenagers weren’t born special but got their powers from an outside source, so they could easily switch out characters when necessary.

Initially there were 5 rangers – Red, Pink, Yellow, Blue, and Black. Pink and Yellow were girls (duh), Red was the leader, and in a racist twist that was delightfully overlooked the first year the Yellow Ranger was Asian, and the Black Ranger was African American.

I loved the Pink Ranger, Kimberly. She was pretty, a gymnast, and of course at the time seemed powerful and in control. Like the other rangers, she wore her color at all points, so she was always wearing some wonderful 90s fashion in pink. I fully blame this show for the disaster that was my pink bedroom. Pink walls, pink carpets… and I was stuck with it for YEARS.

Anyway, Tommy Oliver, the Green Ranger, showed up in season 1 but was initially a bad guy. He was from a rival school or something, was just as good as the Red Ranger in martial arts (oh did I forget to mention they all know martial arts? Power Rangers is also to blame for all the kids that suddenly decided they needed to do karate, which includes my brother), and so Rita Repulsa made him her evil minion.

MEANWHILE, there was all sorts of tension between him & Kimberly despite him being a bad guy. Eventually Tommy became a good guy, and later he became the White Ranger and was the new leader of the gang. Kimberly and Tommy were an adorable couple, and all was right in the world. 

Seriously, tell me you didn't want that back in the day

Tommy Oliver was my first fictional character crush. Actually now that I think of it, Power Rangers is probably also to blame for my previously discussed problem where I habitually prefer bad guys/guys that are kind of dicks. Huh, apparently Power Rangers is almost solely responsible for all the problems in life. Don’t let that stop you from watching it though! If I had the original seasons I’d watch that in a hot second. As it is I frequently turn to the Power Rangers movie when I need an emotional boost.

But anyway, the Green Ranger was like girl fantasy candy. He was hot, strong, evil, but seemed to have hints of good because of his feelings for Kimberly. Even when he became good he was witty, dependable, protective, and still super sexy.

I didn’t realize how deeply Power Rangers was embedded in my subconscious until the other day when my friend tried to pull his hair into a ponytail, reminded me vaguely of the Green Ranger, and all of a sudden I was like !!!!!!!!!

They say you always remember your first love. Maybe you always remember your first fictional crush as well. I should probably figure out if I’ve been unconsciously trying to find a guy like the Green Ranger and that’s half my problem, but that can wait for another retrospective lazy weekend.