Clumsy is the New Sexy

So for those of us watching New Girl, who else was super excited when Dr. Rick showed back up? Of course technically on the show he’s known as Sam, but every time I see him I just think happily of Fired Up!

However, this also reminded me of a certain trend in portraying women that has been driving me insane for years. That is the Clumsy Girl bit.

I adore Jess on New Girl, but she also happens to be clumsy as all get out. During this episode where Dr. Rick reappears she manages to run into about 10 different walls. In one of the first episodes with him, they flash back to her issues with standing.

You have to understand I am actually not arguing that this is an unfair portrayal of girls. There are clumsy boys out there too.  Nor am I saying this is completely unrealistic.

The truth it, I am a clumsy girl. Accident prone. A walking disaster, if you will. Just this Friday, I was sitting at my desk having a phone meeting. Well midway through the meeting my left leg cramped up. Since I was all twisted up in some weird position, when I jumped at the unexpected pain, this also caused me to fall out of my chair (this friends is why you always keep your phone on mute during meetings until you’re actually saying something).

I’d like to pretend this is an isolated incident, but really it’s one of many. Back in college there was a guy that we always referred to as “The One That’s Afraid Of Me” (I said me, my friends would say you). He was in my freshman seminar along with several of my friends. Now typically I sat over with my friends, but I believe I was running late that day for whatever reason, so I ended up sitting in between him and Scott Cameron Cameron Scott Scott (we had a lot of strange names for people in college). The nice thing about this room was that we weren’t in desks. The bad thing was this meant I could tip my chair back. So there I was tipping my chair back and somewhat paying attention to the professor, when all of I sudden I look down and think “why am I holding on to the table?” I couldn’t think of a good reason offhand, thus I let go.

Why was I holding on to the table? For balance, of course, since my chair was so far tipped back. Meaning when I let go of the table, both me and the chair went tumbling backwards.

One minute I’m innocently sitting there, the next The One That’s Afraid Of Me looks over and just sees my legs in the air.  For the rest of my college experience he made sure to NEVER sit next to me again, and anytime he saw me he looked quite disturbed and afraid.

The really sad thing is this is actually a reoccurring experience. I totally did the same thing back in middle school during Earth Space Science. Even worse, I feel like I was wearing a dress that day.

So I am not arguing the logistics of clumsiness. What offends me is this new trend portraying it as something desirable. Not that New Girl is falling into this category, but let’s look at two popular book series: Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey.

Disclaimer, I hate both series so I am a bit biased. I also have only read the first Fifty Shades book.

But both books have this main female character who thinks of herself as completely average, boring, unattractive, and ungodly clumsy. Yet everyone else in the world spends their time trying to jump her bones. It is heavily implied that both characters are actually extremely sexy women just with confidence issues (and trust me, that’s a whole ‘nother rant right there). Their clumsiness is also implied to be part of their appeal.

I see this all the time in fanfiction too. There are characters called Mary Sues. They are original characters added to a story. They are super awesome and can do everything right, yet they have to be flawed in some way, so normally they’re also clumsy.

It’s like the world had a meeting I wasn’t invited to and decided if you want to keep a character from being too perfect, you make them clumsy. That “normalizes” them, but it’s also not as much a flaw as say giving them a gimp leg or OCD. It’s used as a plot device to give them vulnerable moments so the male lead can “save them” without being too obvious that the female needs saving.

I hate it. Seriously, this makes me practically foam at the mouth.

Being clumsy IS NOT SEXY. It IS NOT ROMANTIC to fall over all the time so people are trying to catch you. It IS NOT ADORABLE when people feel like they can’t even let you walk off on your own without you getting injured in some way. Oh and those bruises that inevitably show up everywhere? ANNOYING!

As a clumsy girl I’m not condemning people that are clumsy. It happens. Whatev, it’s just a part of life. Some people are super coordinated. Some people are not. I just think this should stop being the default flaw given to one-dimensional characters to try and give them a bit more dimension. It doesn’t work.

New Girl is actually a good example of clumsy done right. Jess is just all over awkward. Her clumsiness is one part of the whole. It’s not overplayed, it’s not something people are trying to fix, it’s just one tiny aspect of a very interesting character.

GTFO MY WOMB!!

There’s this idea that girls wander about after a certain age constantly obsessing over their biological clock. We plot, connive, and fornicate until we’re Glenn Close agonizing “this may be my last chance to have a child” and end up dead in the bathtub.

I hate to be the breaker of a bad myth, but this isn’t true. There are many people out there that just flat out don’t want children. Many people have babies just because it seems like the thing to do at a certain age. And sure, there are those of us that do want kids eventually, but it’s not something to obsess over everyday.

Now having said that, there is a teeny bit of basis to the myth. Every so often your body sneak attacks with an OMG BABIES moment. Logically you know there is no way on this green earth you want a child at the time. Your body has other ideas. The good news is this normally passes very quickly. The better news is that if you ever run into this situation, I have compiled a list of the best movies to make you definitely not want to even think about the word “baby” for at least a year, if not a decade. Brace for spoilers and grossness ahead.

3. The Fly (1986)

I love Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum. They are adorable together. If you’ve never seen Earth Girls Are Easy you should definitely get on that. However, I will probably never watch The Fly again. There are limits to how much ooze and ick I can take. 

So Jeff Goldblum is a crazy scientist (so fitting) and he ends up merging with a fly. At first, he looks all amped up and sexy. Then he starts getting more disfigured and disgusting until he eventually becomes this weird fly-ish creature.

Who knew you could make Jeff Goldblum not sexy...

Why would this make you want to go into womb lockdown mode? Well, Geena Davis has been getting it on with Jeff Goldblum and winds up pregnant. Was it normal sperm? Fly-mutated sperm? We just don’t know. But her dream about the child is enough to keep me from having kids for quite a few.

2. Joshua

This is a movie we randomly found back in college when we were in the habit of arbitrarily grabbing horror movies from Blockbuster. Sadly this movie is not widely recognized as it’s not a traditional horror movie by any means, but it is TERRIFYING.

I almost hate to spoil this one.

Joshua is the story of a family adjusting to a new baby. It’s not a perfect family. There are hints that the maternal grandmother was off her rocker, the older child, Joshua, randomly throws up around the house, and all of a sudden the new baby switches from happy and adorable to a screaming nightmare. The dog dies, the mother starts to lose her mind, and Joshua gets creepier and creepier.

The face of evil.

So how does this inspire you to NOT procreate? The scary thing about this movie is it’s a psychological thriller and entirely possible (as opposed to having larva babies which seems a bit unlikely) that you could spawn children that are not quite right in the head and torment their entire family. I mean really, somebody gave birth to people like Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy.

1. Prometheus

Ok, as this movie is more recent, warning, MORE SPOILERS AHEAD. I mean sure everyone should have seen it back in theaters, but considering I just saw the movie for the first time yesterday I will make allowances.

Now one could argue that any of the Alien movies can cause some pregnancy pause as they consistently feature aliens popping out of bodies in a twisted birth parody. I won’t discredit those films, but in general those are the results of an alien forcing its nastiness down your throat, chilling in your abdominal cavity (as opposed to your womb as it happens to men too) and again, not the likeliest thing in the world.

In Prometheus, things start to go bad when android Michael Fassbender decides to put a little something extra in Logan Marshall-Green’s drink. LMG then goes back to his quarters and is having a little conversation with girlfriend and fellow scientist Noomi Rapace. To summarize what happens next, I will relay our commentary during this scene:

Me: DON’T KISS HIM! He has black goo in his body! Stop kissing him!

My brother: If you think kissing him is bad, imagine what happens if she receives his seed.

Me: Wait, what? DON’T RECEIVE HIS SEED! NO! DO NOT RECEIVE HIS SEED!!

Guess what? Idget warrior receives his seed. LMG dies, Noomi Rapace freaks out, and when they’re scanning her to see if she was infected they find out she’s 3 months pregnant with something that looks a little off. Michael Fassbender thinks they should just put her back to sleep, but luckily Noomi Rapace has the will to live and handles the situation in what I now considering one of the most disturbing movie sequences of all time.

Yeah… I wandered around for the rest of the day clutching my abdomen in panic. Should I ever end up in space, I’m planning to wear a chastity belt.

The Penis Mightier

The end of November is quickly approaching. We are right in the midst of the holiday season between Thanksgiving and your December holiday of choice (Hanukkah, Yule, Christmas… whatever your flavor) where people eat and shop a lot. This is also when I start my yearly debate over whether or not to send out a holiday letter.

Now on another topic, before we move into December, November is National Novel Writing Month. It also has a lot of random holidays for writing such as “I Love to Write Day.” This wonderful emphasis on writing, combined with my internal argument over sending a holiday letter, has made me realize that I have never yet explained to you folks WHY I am occasionally (I swear I’ll get better) writing a blog.

I do love to write. I’ve been writing fanfiction off and on since early high school. I’ve written quite a few short stories, and started quite a few novels that I will probably never finish. During college I had my assignments to write personal essays, David Sedaris style, and I realized those were my new love. Because there are two big problems when it comes to me and writing:

1. I have absolutely no discipline when it comes to writing. I like to write. I can write short things. However, when it comes to writing anything too long I don’t have the focus to come back, make myself sit down, and just write. I could complete stories for college because they were due for a class. Now I have nothing due, and it doesn’t really matter if I finish something or not. I really hope to work past this at some point. I have ideas I’d really like to get out there someday.

2. It may seem strange, but I have no confidence in my voice as a writer. In fact, I had the fear for the longest time that I did not have a voice at all. I felt like anyone could write what I wrote. They were just sentences on a page, with no life or meaning.

Considering my dream was to become a decent, semi-famous author, that was totally quotable and eventually had a movie or HBO series based off my books, I should have a good writing voice. Think of the “Pen Is Mightier” category on Jeopardy. You recognize quotes from books not because you memorize the entire book (unless you're lame and have no friends), but because the voice of the quote or character stands out.

This issue with my writing voice is why I write this blog, and why I used to send a family Christmas letter ever year.

The Christmas letter was a huge issue in my household growing up. It was something my parents decided I should do, and thus something I fought bitterly against. It normally ended with me being confined to a chair in front of the computer until I typed one out.

They weren’t long letters. Just one page announcements about my family and what had been going on for the year. Of course I felt like we had fairly stagnant lives. There’s only so many ways to say we’re all working excessively at our various jobs that haven’t changed. It was with the Christmas letter that I first started to feel like I had a bit of a writing voice, because I tended to write it different ways to keep myself amused. And the response was overall positive. Everyone in the larger family started clamoring for the yearly letters and said how much they loved them. I have to admit when I moved off on my own and my mother started writing the letters, it just wasn’t the same. I then decided I should continue to do letters for my own adventures, and have done 2 so far since moving out.

However this year, I’ve been blogging. I started blogging because I was impressed with my friend Erin’s witticism and thought this would be a good method for continuing to improve my written voice. This was a chance to write short entries (good for my attention span), but write consistently (good for building up writing stamina), and discuss whatever I want. So far, it’s been mostly a success. There are certainly posts that I enjoyed more than others, but if my goal is to further develop my voice I think I’m starting to get there. One of the best complements I’ve gotten so far is that my friend Callie has told me whenever she reads my posts, the whole time she just hears me speaking in her mind because it sounds so much like how I talk. So perfect!!

Of course there’s still more work to do in my voice training. Once one gets a voice, you then need to be able to change the expressions and tone to achieve different results.

I think I struggle with this so much in writing because I DON’T have this issue talking. I know I’ve discussed before that apparently I cannot tell a good story. Well the truth is: I suck a bit at conversations, but actual story telling? I excel. I have a very expressive voice. The voice itself still sucks, but by god when you hear me speak there are emotions and nuances and funny voices all over the place. I want that in my writing. I want to keep the reader involved and entertained. And I know I can get there eventually if I finally just knuckle down and practice.

So that, my friends, is why I write this blog.

Of course how is this tied into this year’s argument over whether or not to send a holiday letter? Well, if I’m writing the blog, I don’t really need the practice of also sending out a holiday letter. Plus, I feel like a large portion of the people I would send it to are actually reading this, and they know a lot of what’s been going on this year. But I do so like sending out pretty cards with the letter… hmm.

To end though, I thought I’d give you a little early holiday present. If you haven’t ever watched the SNL Celebrity Jeopardy skits (we watched them A LOT in college, you have no idea), here’s one of my favorites where Sean Connery isn’t quite clear on the aforementioned pen category. As Sean wisely says, what matters is, "DOES IT WORK?" I think this is an excellent mindframe for writing as well. Does it work? The final result should be - yes!

It’s Just a Flesh Wound

My views on illness and injuries are practically from the middle ages. I generally do not go to the doctor. I don’t believe in personally being sick (because it’s all mental, so mind over matter, right?). I’m very much part of the “walk it off” group.

However in other ways, I verge on acting like a hypochondriac. I actually do have some general knowledge of the body and the various systems that make it up. We had this totally awesome computer “game” when I was little where you had Adam and Eve and you could pick something like lymph nodes or the cardiovascular system and they had fun little videos explaining how it worked. I took all the bio courses offered in high school, and way back in the day had quite a few toy medical kits. I also had my dad’s old travel medical bag. All of a sudden my dolls and teddy bears were suffering horrible injuries and subject to all kinds of emergency surgeries. My mother was quite distraught when she realized a real scalpel had been hidden at the bottom of Dad’s bag. Oops.

This just means that I like to use my slight knowledge to diagnose myself. Now I know lots of people do this through internet research. I like to just make random guesses and then come up with what I feel are appropriate treatments (face hurts? Probably sinuses. Must drink tea and take baths. Excessive vomiting? Have some sort of mint stuff and make sure to keep fluids down. Headache? Drink something with a bit of caffeine). Thus why I am convinced I’m dyslexic, and also suspect I have some sort of clotting/circulation issues.

Back in college this drove my roommates insane as I was obsessed with attempting to staple a wound closed. They sometimes use staples instead of stitches for bad cuts in the ER. I mean sure, they have their own medical staples, but I felt like the idea could be applied with normal staples. When I worked at The Meadows we once stapled ourselves. The boys were trying to out man each other which led to Nate stapling his arm. Being of the if-you-can-do-it-I-can-do-it mind frame we then stapled me, and one of the other guys. Not a big deal. However the staple couldn’t really fully imbed in the skin, which made me curious to see if it would work better elsewhere and with an actual injury. Which is why whenever somebody in college had any sort of cut, I ran around imploring them to let me staple it.

I can’t say I’ve ever had any serious injuries where it would matter that I tend to ignore real medical treatment. The one time I broke my wrist we did actually go to a doctor (I was only 12, and rather hysterical for a whole lot of other reasons than just breaking my wrist). Otherwise I’ve made it through things like food poisoning, chemical burns, broken toes, and some sort of ankle injury.

Now that one might have actually not been that bad at first. It’s hard to say. We were heading to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire. I was wearing very thin shoes, and stepped on a rock which then caused me to twist my ankle in some direction I don’t think it wanted to go. I breathed for a minute while I determined whether or not it was broken. Since I was driving, and it was my left ankle, I told everyone we could continue on. I figured it was a long drive and it could rest. Once we got there I ignored it. All was fine and dandy until we were back home at the end of the day and I decided to actually take a look at the stupid thing. I pretty much had half a baseball sticking out of my ankle. It took a month of ice and wrapping it until it seemed back to normal.

The Toe, several days after breaking.

When I broke my toes, I was yet again running around on them all day and laughing here and there while announcing “I think I broke my toes, guys.” I’m not sure anyone really believed me until we were getting mani-pedis and I declined as my entire pinky toe, part of my foot, and the next toe over were the most interesting shade of purple. But really, they’re toes. I taped them up later and wore flip flops for a month.

I just don’t find most external injuries that big of a deal. Generally you know what caused them, and you can see and fix them.

Illnesses should really be a whole other story. What I hate about illness though is it’s generally not as visible. You’re just going off what someone says they feel. Are they overreacting? Are they underplaying symptoms?? Who knows. I’m probably one of the worst offenders. I don’t mention anything that I don’t think is relevant. I only go to the doctor once I feel it’s necessary, which is how I managed to be sick for over a month in college with who knows what. A virus? Mono? A blood clot? No one’s really sure.

While when I talk to others I tend to push the “walk it off” philosophy, on the other hand I am very likely to tell them to go to the doctor whenever they have weird symptoms. You never really know what’s going on in your body. There’s so much they can fix now, as long as you catch it early. It’s much better to swallow your pride and talk to the doctor over ignoring something until it’s past being treatable.

Yeah this makes me a bit of a hypocrite, but I can live with that. To be fair, while I don’t actually go in to the doctor I do talk to doctors, which is practically the same thing as a regular consultation.

As you may or may not know, November, besides being NaNoWriMo (which I’m still not doing. One of these years it’ll happen by god), is also Movember. Men across the world are growing some very fun mustaches to earn awareness for men’s health issues. Since some men have a tendency to ignore preventive health measures (they treat it like asking for directions…) I think this is brilliant. While we can’t all grow amazing mustaches, we can all do our part to support them. If you have a spare dollar or two you can head over here to my friend Marc’s page and donate. Make sure to vote for the Hulk Hogan. The Cop scares me.

Keep in mind that all the things you can be doing at any point to promote your own health. Be somewhat active. Eat healthy-ish. Wear a seat belt. Everyone has their own version of being healthy (for instance, I only eat a half pound of bacon at one sitting rather than a full pound) but it’s important to just keep these ideas in mind. You don’t want to end up dying at The Heart Attack Grill (fascinating place I found in Vegas).

The Saga Continues

So the big news this week (once you get past things like hurricane Sandy, campaign news, and celeb Halloween costumes) is that Disney has bought Lucasfilm and will be making 3 more Star Wars movies. This is a pretty freaking big deal.

Most fans have apparently not been taking the news well. I completely missed out on the announcement on Tuesday (this is what happens when you don’t have a Twitter account) and just saw it this morning. I’m still processing.

Undeniably, the original Star Wars movies are the best. When I do Star Wars do I dress up as Queen Amidala? Heck no! I go Princess Leia all the way.  BUT, unlike some other hardcore fans, I like the new trilogy. Is it as all around amazing and incredible as the original? No. Is it still good? I would say yes.

I am well aware of the inclusion of much hated characters like Jar Jar Binks. I don’t like him either, guys. It does appear that maybe some things like the pod racing scene, which is a bit long and involved, were added mainly for the chance to play around with the effects. And sure, Yoda flipping all over the place like a tiny, crazed chimp in Attack of the Clones is a bit distracting to say the least. But I hardly feel like these small things are enough to ruin the series.

I’m sure everyone has their own reasons for their prequel issues. And really, who am I to judge? Especially considering I still can’t get over the travesty that is X-Men: The Last Stand. So I will leave you to your own opinions, but I have decided to include some examples of the good parts of the movies.

3. Liam Neeson as a Jedi

Liam Neeson can do no wrong. He has been a God, he has been the best father/stepfather ever, a totally BAMF villain, and now he can be an awesome Jedi too. Actually this is inspiring me to have a Liam Neeson movie night similar to the Alan Rickman movie night we had back in college.

But anyway, Liam Neeson kills it as Qui-Gon Jinn. He’s wise. He’s resourceful. He is strong in the force. His lightsaber skills could perhaps use some work, but that’s neither here nor there. Whenever he call Obi-Wan his young padawan, I’m like, train me master!

2. Anakin’s Crazy Eyes

Say what you will about Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker – he has the crazy eyes down. This works for me. I think a large issue with the prequels is how Anakin Skywalker is portrayed. We expected him to be this larger than life amazing character that has an epic moral struggle before giving into the Dark Side. Instead, he’s a cocky, whiny brat. See, I can get over this. Mostly because I’ve decided his emotional issues work.

We know that Anakin needs to turn evil. We know that he also needs to eventually turn good again. So we need someone who’s emotionally unstable and prone to violence.

And Anakin delivers! Even when he’s an adorable child he’s impulsive and clearly emotional. By Episode II he has worked his way up to full out tantrums and mass murdering. I mean kinda for a good cause. Kinda.

1. Emperor Palpatine’s Evil Master Plan

Ok, seriously. When you consider all the little things and the massive amount of time it took Emperor Palpatine to become the emperor… it’s like the best evil master plan in the history of evil master plans! There were SO MANY things that could have gone wrong. It hinged on so many random people unwittingly doing what he wanted. It required excellent understanding of key players, exceptional manipulation, and impressive Force skills. Emperor Palpatine was willing to sacrifice whatever pawns necessary to achieve the greater goal.

Not only did he manage to achieve ultimate galaxy control (so keep in mind it’s even more impressive that his plan was to take over the galaxy. Generally villains can barely manage overtaking a country, let alone a world), he kept it up for almost 20 years. That takes skillz. Such serious skillz, they surpass mere skills.

Now having demonstrated some of the great things from the prequels, am I totally on board with the idea of a new trilogy? Honestly I’m torn. I can think of many, many things that give me pause. I’m an optimist though. I have to hope they’ll still turn out well. Regardless, I guarantee I go watch every single one.

The Slut Rule

It’s almost Halloween! Halloween is hands down one of my favorite holidays. I mean how could it not be?? It combines two of my favorite things – candy & costumes. Of course adults aren’t really supposed to go trick-or-treating, but that’s the benefit of having godchildren. You still get to dress up, and you can eat all their “bad” candy.

This year sadly I’m not taking the kids out since they’re a plane ride away as opposed to a 4 hour drive. Still, there are always Halloween parties to enjoy. But as much as I love this holiday and start obsessively considering costume as early as late spring, I also inevitably end up having a costume crisis at the end of October.

Why? Well simply put, because of the slut rule.

To understand what I’m talking about, you simply need to think back to Mean Girls.

As Cady explains: in the regular world, Halloween is when children dress up in costumes and beg for candy. In Girl World, Halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.

The problem is I don’t WANT to necessarily dress up like a total slut. But on the other hand, I don’t want to dress like an old woman. I try to find some sort of balance between the two, and each year it gets harder.

I’ve had some success in the past. I created a whole round of costumes using various pieces I wear to the Renn Faire. The corset kept a hint of slut, the long skirts kept it classy. Then I found a Princess Leia costume I rocked 2 years in a row. It wasn’t the slave bikini one, it was the white dress. However, to sex it up they added slits in the skirt, which paired beautifully with my clunky boots I bought waaaaaaaaaay back in middle school.

This year I couldn’t make any decisions at first. Normally by the end of summer I have a pretty good idea what I want to do. This time around I was still hung up on the question of whether I should reprise a former costume or buy something new. Then last month when I had a friend visiting, we decided to go to one of the Halloween stores. I was starting to lean towards a flapper look (which, not gonna lie, was totally inspired from The Vampire Diaries flashbacks to the 20s in season 3). Then I happened to find a Wonder Woman corset type top. They only had one in the store which I didn’t think would fit me, but I decided to try it on anyway.

And it looked amazing. I was skinny and powerful with some serious cleavage but nothing too daunting. My friend was able to easily convince me to buy it.

It sat in my closet for a month while I fondly reminisced about how awesome it looked, and eventually went about getting the rest of the pieces for my full costume. I was pretty pleased with the decision. I like Wonder Woman. Not that I’ve read the comics due to my parents forbidding any comic purchases when I was a kid, but I remember Superfriends fondly, and watched Justice League for a season or two when it came out. Plus in one of my favorite author’s books they have a whole spiel with the women having a Wonder Woman party that amused me.

But even better! Eventually my friend Erin and I are going to make it to Comic-Con, and I could totally use the costume there too.

Since I’m a bit of a procrastinator, I didn’t finish ordering my other costume parts until last week so they’re all still arriving this week. When I got the bottoms I had finally decided on, I decided to try them together with the top.

And this is where the panic set in. The top is way tighter than I remember. It’s not serious cleavage. It’s freaking breast explosion. This is the issue with not owning or believing in things like scales and weight. I don’t recognize slight weight fluctuations, so of course I assumed the top would fit the same.

So now I feel overexposed on top. While I went for shorts as opposed to bikini bottoms, I’m questioning the exposure for my bottom half as well. Essentially, I tried for my nice middle line of sexiness, but instead I’m feeling that I ended up near the top of the epically slutty column.

Of course, it’s Halloween! SOMEWHERE out there is certainly someone with an even sluttier costume than me. But nonetheless I’m now torn over whether to fall back on an old costume or not. Why isn’t it easier to have that middle line where you’re not in underwear, but you also don’t look like Cady?   

What Happens When You Assume

I may have mentioned before that I’m a Steeler fan. This is causing me a lot of angst this season as they’re refusing to win games and making lots of really silly mistakes. Today’s game is no exception. Dropped balls, interceptions, turnovers that lead to touchdowns... At least James Harrison is still kicking butt and taking names. I love James Harrison.

I'm not this bad. I mean seriously...

Now I feel like I should clarify a bit on my fanship. I absolutely label myself as a Steeler fan. I watch every game with the only exceptions being when I’m busy for work purposes.  I own many different Steeler items (earrings, blankets, shirts, and of course a James Harrison jersey just to name a few). I recognize the names of the majority of the starters.

However, I don’t have every single player on the team memorized. I don’t know the nitty gritty details of the rules of football. Does this stop me from enjoying the game? Well of course not! What I find interesting though is that the common perception is that this is because I’m a girl. Apparently girls are not expected to know these things. Heck, we’re barely expected to be football fans beyond tailgating in college.

In my case, I don’t have all the intricacies of the football rules down because I decided it wasn’t necessary to know, and the refs are just going to interpret things however they want anyway (which inevitably stresses me out when they’re clearly being idiots). 

This leads me into an always interesting discussion – male and female stereotyping. Clearly, I am not going to explore every aspect of it today as the Steelers are still playing (I was going to say poorly but WOOT!! Woodley just made me eat my words) and I want to go to sleep at some point as well.   

Stereotypes will always exist. I’m sorry, they will. I think it’s just a progression of thinking. We naturally try to make assumptions about how the world functions. We use these assumptions to explain phenomena of nature as well as social situations. This can apply to a specific individual. I notice a friend has ordered cider beer multiple times in a night and I assume that’s their preference and start always ordering cider beer for them. I notice that a bunch of Texas hotels put information on church services near the front of their guest directory and I assume that Texans are more religious.

Maybe these assumptions are right, maybe they’re wrong. Now sometimes stereotypes are accurate. That’s why they exist, because there were at least a few situations and individuals that fit the bill. But they can be damaging.

I’m currently reading How Children Succeed. One of the sections I found very interesting in the book was about how identifying with a group can be both positive and negative. A positive is because it gives you a shared identity, which can help you connect with the other group members. A negative is that you then feel constrained by the group stereotypes.

The book described studies comparing the test score results for girls on math exams. When the girls first received positive messaging that intelligence is flexible and didn’t feel constrained by that good ol’ belief that men are naturally better at math, they scored better than the control group of girls. So stereotypes can be self-perpetuating. Because girls are supposed to be worse at math, they expect to do poorly and don’t try to their full potential, thus giving them worse scores.

Apparently this is what it looks like when flat.

My friend Jenn was just telling me the other week how excited she was when she took her car into the shop and they talked to her like a real person. She had issues in the past where they talked down to her assuming she didn’t know anything about cars. Now I’ve encountered this as well, but it’s never bugged me because I legitimately don’t know anything about cars. I have plenty of girl friends that LOVE cars. They can talk mechanics all day long. Me? Well, let’s just say that I’m the girl that didn’t realize her tire was flat back in high school. I called my parents saying it looked funny, and when they asked if it was flat I said “no, it’s just the bottom part.”

In one of my friend Erin’s posts we got on a side discussion about movies based off video games and how she doesn’t like that all the female characters stroll around with very little clothing. This is a valid point. If I was fighting zombies I’d be wearing tons of layers to help protect myself from getting infected. I think the issue is that when they make these games they assume mostly males will be playing them. Despite the evidence to the contrary, the stereotype is that gamers are male.

Just the other day I was talking to someone who I found out works for Blizzard. I immediately told them how mad their company makes me. They responded that this better not be another case of an angry girlfriend that lost their bf to WoW.

While this kind of made me giggle, it’s still the stereotype at work. If I had been a guy, they never would have made this assumption. Since I’m a girl, they assumed I wasn’t involved with Blizzard directly but just knew it through a guy. I actually played WoW for a while, and in fact I was referring to Blizzard doing ridiculous things to my account like deleting game subscriptions.

Where does this leave us? Well basically the same place we started. I can’t fix all the wrongs of the world with this little post. When I encounter new people I’m still going to be going against the same stereotypes.

But I can make more of an effort to not make my own assumptions about people. As my father always told me over and over growing up, what happens when you assume? You make an ass out of u and me (still true).

And if nothing else, we can all remember that these stereotypes DO NOT DEFINE US.

One is the Loneliest Number

Don't we look snazzy!

My company just had our big awards-party-awesomeness called the H’Oscars, which was fabulous as usual. I managed to get sick but enjoyed myself despite this. It’s so great to see everyone from the different offices and get a chance to meet the new employees.

I had a bit of a moment though. I was talking to somebody, can’t remember who, and realized they didn’t know I’m no longer in the Arlington office but now working remote from Texas. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t know. With my job, I’d be in and out of the office a lot anyway. Once they realized this though THEY were shocked. “I can’t imagine you being remote!” they said, “you’re such a people person. I can’t picture you not being in the office.”

When I first decided to go remote I heard this a lot, and figured it was just some platitude people felt the need to say when they heard you had the good fortune to work from home and they didn’t. This is partially because I don’t really think of myself as a people person. My brother is a people person. He can’t even play video games by himself anymore without either calling me or talking to one of his other friends through Skype. I like being alone.  Don’t get me wrong, I like people, but I like my alone time more.

However, I really do miss being in the office.

Not enough to want to move back. And I do adore working from home. There are a lot of benefits, the least of which is the ability to work everyday in my “work” pajamas. I no longer have to deal with a hellacious commute. I have more hours in the day, which is fabulous. When I have a weird schedule it’s easier for me to adjust and work a few hours, stop working, and then work again later. Plus I can have delicious things cooking all day for a super wonderful dinner at night after jazzercise.

It’s also less distracting, oddly enough. Nobody’s here to talk to me. I can play my music and just sit and work with nothing to steal my focus.

But I miss that! I miss distracting coworkers that stop and talk for 5 minutes that turns into 10 minutes that becomes 20… I miss the office gossip. I miss the random games and decorations.

I even miss just walking around the office when I went to refill my tea. I like to picture myself as a little office happiness fairy – flitting about spreading smiles and sunshine. Now I’m the house troll that emerges only every few months for big company events. Le sigh. 

Overall though I’d say if I had to make a pro/con list (which I’m trying hard not to do as often), the work from home pros totally win. I just need to be able to function on less sleep, so when I do get the chance to hang out with all my awesome work colleagues I can party all night. Work hard, play hard, baby!

Everything Is Better In Mini

I think I’ve mentioned before my issues with Target, mainly being that every time I walk in Target, I walk out with far more than I planned because of bright colors and clever advertising. This was put to the test this week. I walked into Target with 2 goals: return a few items, and buy peas for making beef stew. I specifically took the most direct route to both areas of the store so I wouldn’t lose focus, and yet I still almost ended up with an additional purchase.

Why? Because right near the checkout counter they had mini water bottles. Mini water bottles! Well technically, they were for children, but what evs, the idea is that they were adorable smaller than the typical water bottle. I was immensely tempted to purchase them. The only reason I made it out of the store was due to a lot of deep breaths and mental pep talks. BECAUSE THEY WERE MINI! ZOMG how could I not want mini water bottles!?! Well, there’s the whole deal that I don’t actually want less water when I’m working out. If anything I want more.

Like my friend Erin, I too question whether I’m really a “grown up.” Mostly because of my obsession with mini objects. It gets me every time.

Actually I was quite distraught this week to realize I’m almost out of mini mountain dew bottles. They don’t actually call them “mini” bottles (I don’t think anyway, clearly I don’t pay that much attention) but they’re half the size of normal bottles of mountain dew and just delightful. I bought a bunch a few weeks ago and always have one or two in the fridge for my emergency caffeine days when tea just doesn’t cut it. I’m normally only allowed one a week maximum, as I don’t want mountain dew to become my new diet pepsi problem. But I realized this week that I only have one mini mountain dew left, and I haven’t seen the tiny bottles in stores again. I’m going to have to drink normal size drinks again. The horror!

A male friend tried to understand my love of mini objects once. It went kinda like this: he held up a straw and asked if he ripped it in half, if I would like the half straw better than the real straw. Well no, of course not. That’s not a “mini” straw, that’s a ripped straw. BUT, if he offered me one of those stupid red coffee stirrer straw things, that would count because they’re like mini straws and too cute. They function horribly as straws, but that’s not the point.

As far as weird habits go it’s not really a bad one. All it really affects is my consumerism choices and the functionality (or lack thereof) of my purchases. Well apparently some article says it also make me eat more, but I feel like that’s going to happen regardless. It just doesn’t seem like a very adult thing to me to still be gushing over mini items constantly.

OR, maybe it’s an important part of being a grown up.

Hear me out. What are babies but mini humans? Even Eric from True Blood realizes that. Maybe my love of mini objects is just nature’s way of pushing me to breed and take care of tiny humans until they’re no longer “mini” and no longer need me to care for them. This could totally be a real thing.

 It could.

But this is one thing I don’t think even I can believe in. I will not be adding it to the list of things I believe/do-not-believe-in-despite-lack-of-evidence-or-despite-contradictory-facts-against-it (yes, this list does exist, and it’s actually quite lengthy).

Could I convince somebody else to believe it? That’s possible. I’m actually really good at saying the most preposterous things with a straight face. I can’t lie about important things to save my life, but I can convince you without blinking that I used to live on a beet farm in Russia.

What I constantly wonder is why did I move to Texas when I love me some mini items. I didn’t realize how this would alter my life habits until I could no longer find mini tator tots in the store. All I want are my freaking mini tator tots. Why can’t I find them anywhere?? I find it beyond comprehension that they would be readily available in some states and not others. It’s a cruel state of the union issue.

The Original Heat Vampire

I promise I didn’t come back from a few week hiatus just to write about more vampires. And while we’re at it, let me apologize for not posting. My bad, guys. I was totally too busy for you, but I mean that in the nicest way possible.

It’s fall! Woot! I do rather like the fall. I’d be hard pressed to say which is my favorite season, but fall does have a bit of a magical quality to it. Plus it promises things like pumpkin pie, Halloween, and boot season.

Of course with the fall comes the cold. That’s the part I’m not looking forward to. I hate the cold. I can stand it long enough to run out in the snow and play around for a bit, but I damn well better come back into someplace warm with hot chocolate waiting for me.

This really is one of those big life questions you debate with your friends in the middle of the night. Would you rather be hot or cold? I’d go hot every time. My brother argues endlessly with me over this one. Because when you’re hot, all you can do is take clothes off, and eventually you run out of clothes. Whereas when you’re cold, you can always put more clothing/blankets on.

That may be true, but the thing about clothes/blankets is they work by holding in your heat. I, somehow, have no heat. At least the majority of the time. I overheat in the middle of the night constantly, which is why I sleep with an assortment of fans and very tiny pajamas.

 You see, I am The Original Heat Vampire. If you are not familiar with the term, it is on urban dictionary but personally I think it was invented for me, thus why I always refer to myself as The Original Heat Vampire. Do not forget The Original part of my title. My wrath knows no bounds. Do not listen to those of my friends that compare my angry face to a pouty teddy bear. It’s a lie. Really. I totally can look angry when I want.

I was reminded of my heat vampire status yesterday at brunch (side note, I think brunch may be my favorite thing ever… both breakfast & lunch food available, but you don’t have to eat it early in the morning. Score!). It had been drizzling outside so I was wearing jeans, but it was so cold in the restaurant that the longer we sat there the more I froze. It didn’t help once I ate all my food and was just drinking ice water. Lacking external heat, and unable to produce my own, I could tell my The Original Heat Vampire side was starting to show.

Sadly, as The Original Heat Vampire I am morally bound to not prey upon the unwilling. Well not too much anyway. So I refused to steal heat from the others at the table. This was probably for the best, as they looked a little cold as well. Of course, as The Original Heat Vampire there’s a huge difference between them looking cold, and me looking cold. I could see my nails had already turned that lovely shade of purple. I was willing to bet my lips were becoming blueish. I had goosebumps and was very close to compulsive shivering. All this just from being in a slightly chilled restaurant!

You can imagine how much worse this gets in the winter. This is when I can’t resist using my The Original Heat Vampire powers. I shiver and look helpless until someone approaches me, and then strike out. My hands grab any available skin surface, and the heat leeching begins.

It’s not fatal to the victim, but they sure don’t enjoy it either. For one, my hands are usually comparable to ice blocks. I refuse to touch myself when in full The Original Heat Vampire mode. For another, as I steal more and more heat, reverting from The Original Heat Vampire into a normal person, they become the cold one. Maybe it’s not the nicest thing to do, but on the other hand their heat regenerates. Mine apparently does not.

I’m trying to mentally prepare myself for upcoming trips this month back north. I have been ridiculously enjoying the Texas heat, but I worry this means I no longer can function at normal fall temperatures. I’m thinking I need to pack my knee high socks. In case that’s not enough, this is warning to the friends I’ll be seeing in Pittsburgh. The Original Heat Vampire may soon be among you.