Girl Power!

I love the phrase, "Girl Power!!" When I hear someone shout, "Girl Power!" (okay, it's usually me), I instantly think of cute cartoony girls, dressed in various shades of pink, jumping in the air, waving their pom-poms and cheering. It makes me so happy! They're just so cute! It kind of reminds me of my Gmail theme, "Candy," which has cute little cartoon girls eating candy and smiling. The colors are teal and pink and I'm pretty sure the "i" in in Gmail is dotted with a heart. Occasionally, you can see the redheaded candy girl (when the screen is wide enough) and then I get super excited/happy. OMG, I sound so creepy right now.

Anyway, back to Girl Power. I also love saying it because it's cheesy. I mean, really. Who actually says, "Girl Power!" and means it? Who can take that phrase seriously? Who doesn't think of little cartoon girls flying through the air with streaks of color behind them when they hear girls shout, "Girl Power!"? It is hilarious. And SO CHEESY.

But here's the thing. My favorite part of saying, "Girl Power!" is that I mean it. Over the years, I have participated in coed sports (sailing in college and more recently, beach volleyball) and I work in the (still) somewhat male-dominated field of SCIENCE. There's nothing that I love more than being paired up with the smallest girl on the team and then kicking some boys' asses. And then shouting, "Girl Power!" Sometimes I say it before so that it disarms the boys into thinking we're stupid girls who don't stand a chance. If I'm on the volleyball court, I jump up in the air, throw my arms up and kick my feet while I cheer it. It really adds to the effect. And then we dominate the boys.

I don't mean this in some weird man-hating feminist way. It's just that sometimes I feel underestimated as a woman. I kind of envision "Girl Power!" as a way of saying, "In your FACE! You totally underestimated us because we are girls. HA!" Only it's a little bit nicer and funnier and it makes me smile.

Consequently, I also love the phrase, "You go, girl!" and try to use it as often as possible.

Happy Saint Patty's Day!

Today I was overly cheerful about Saint Patrick's Day. But really, it's my one day to shine as a redhead. Every other day, I'm just some gingerkid who "has no soul" or has a firecrotch or something (sadly, at the mention of firecrotch, my mind immediately goes to Lindsay Lohan). But on Saint Patrick's day, I am the symbol of all things fun and boozy and Irish. And I'm NOT EVEN IRISH!! And I get to wear green, which is one of my best colors. On Patty's Day, everyone loves the redhead (especially in alcoholic circles).

I don't mean to be a downer on such a great day, but I have to say it: my friends kind of lamed-out on me tonight. I know, it's a Tuesday night. And yes, I realize that we didn't all make definitive plans. And no, I'm not going to be bitter and hold it against everyone (and no, this isn't one of those online bitchfests that you accidently stumble upon even though you had nothing to do with it and then you feel uber awkward because you just read about it online when all you really wanted was to read about gossip girl or my love life. Don't worry, that's not what I'm getting at here).

It's just that: you know when you're really excited about something and you know it's going to be super fun? You skip around all day and text and email a bunch of people about how fun it'll be and they reply with, "I'm totally there! Sounds great!" You even put your hair in a side ponytail because, who cares?! It's the best day ever! And then when the time comes, you get a bunch of texts from people flaking out. It just puts kind of a damper on the best day ever when not one, but six people do this at the last minute. And then the Lakers lose at the buzzer.

On a more chipper note, thanks to A, sis-T and her bf J for coming out! I had a delicious corned beef and cabbage dinner with you guys... and the green beer (ew... doesn't matter how it tastes. It looks disgusting) and Guinness (now that's what I'm talking about) were tasty! And a shout-out to Destructor for being willing to make the trip all the way to the south bay for a recap of last year's Patty's Day, which involved him passing out while making out at a bar and then puking on our futon. I appreciate the thought (and our clean futon).

Now it's time for me to pass out (in true "Irish" fashion).

Nice... Boobs

Last Thursday, Kevin on The Office, asked his new love interest on a date. When she accepted, he responded with, “Nice.” And then his eyes roamed down to her chest and he finished with, “boobs.”

And that pretty much sums up my weekend. Really, this weekend was boobalicious. On Saturday night, a bunch of us went to a bar in downtown LA called Bordello for sis-E’s birthday. We had ventured all the way out to downtown to see The Devil’s Playground, a burlesque group that one of sis-E’s friends, H, is close with (and, of course, to celebrate a quarter century of sis-E). So, of course, we had to dress up for the occasion; the theme of the night was fetish. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but when H and sis-E whipped out some sassy corsets, I knew I needed to step up my game in order to hang. Luckily, my mom had my back and ran upstairs to lend me a bustier and some sexy heels (yeah, I know. It’s kind of hilarious/gross that my mom has super sexy clothing that she’s willing to lend to her daughter so that I can slut it up at a burlesque show). I paired these with a pencil skirt and a long string of pearls and I was ready to go.

The show was fabulous! Really, it was so well done. The women of the Devil’s Playground are true entertainers. I think I even learned a couple of things. Like how to look uber hot while putting on stockings. Or taking them off. And, of course, in theme with my weekend, the breasts were flowing aplenty. I had no idea pasties came in so many different colors. With so many bells and whistles! The highlight was when the “army fetish” girl attached sparklers to her pasties for a true finale.

I was even complimented on my outfit (which was actually rather modest): “Nice pearls,” he said. When I told my mom, she asked, “Did he mean your necklace?” OMG, mom.

I think the unexpected boobiness of the weekend took place last night at sis-E’s birthday dinner with the fam. For those of you who don’t know my sisters, they both have huge racks. Like HUGE. I’m the less endowed sister and my family never ceases to remind me of this fact. Except for last night. Somehow, by some freak of nature, I was showing too much cleavage (through my tank top, long sleeved shirt, and fleece) and my brother pointed it out to my sister who then made a big deal about it. My family literally laughed about this for five minutes. With Grandma and Grandpa. Rather than being embarrassed, I recognized that this might be the only time in my life that someone complains that my boobs are too big and I decided to bask in the moment. Which made us all laugh more (and probably made Grandma and Grandpa a little uncomfortable).

But really, it was a fitting end to a boob-filled weekend.

tweet!

I am obsessed with twitter.  At first, I thought it was lame because who cares about your status, anyway?  (oh WAIT!  This sounds like how I felt about blogging, too!!  hmm, maybe I'm a little slow in embracing the internets).  But now, I love it!!  I think the best part is that you can follow/stalk famous people.  For example, I am currently "following" one of my favorite writers/bloggers, Mindy Kaling (aka Kelly Kapoor on the Office) and just reading her updates makes me giddy.  

I really think  you should look into tweeting.  It's so much better than you'd expect it to be.

check all that apply

Lately, I've been doing some dating. I know that dating is supposed to be fun and it mostly is. But sometimes it can be a little frustrating and mind-boggling. After a couple rejections following what seemed like fun/good dates, I would like some feedback (To my overly "helpful" friends: I'm really just saying this, please don't actually give me "constructive criticism." I don't want it). But really, sometimes it doesn't make sense why a boy doesn't call back.

So this is what I propose: If, after a week, a boy doesn't call you back following what seemed like a good date (don't bother with the bad ones, I think it's usually pretty obvious what went wrong with those), send them an "Exit Survey" to get a little feedback on what went wrong. It can look something like this:

I did not call you back because: (check all that apply)

• You are way too hot for me (I'm a 4 and you're a 7)
• You dated my roommate 2 years ago (this one actually happened... whoops)
• I got busy
• I met someone else
• You talk too much
• You don't talk enough
• You're boring
• You had food in your teeth
• You were awkward
• I'm too awkward
• I'm a pussy
• You seemed a little bit like a psycho
• I'm intimidated by your intelligence
• You ordered a gin and tonic
• We do not share similar religious views
• We do not share similar political views
• You ate too much
• You didn't eat enough
• You were a little ditzy
• You went on and on about your ex-boyfriends
• I'm afraid of redheads
• I'm looking for something long-term and you're going away to med school
• I really just wanted to make out and all I got was a hug
• We went straight to the friend zone
• I'm just not that into you
• I'm really into you but got in a terrible accident and have been in the hospital for a week
• I meant to call but haven't had a chance yet
• I'm a big douchebag

The list can go on, but I think you get the point. And please don't think this post is filled with the bitterness of a single 26 year-old woman who has been repeatedly rejected. Because really, it's not. Sometimes, I just think it would be nice to get some answers...

Update: BB

This just in: I have finally received a picture of BB with her new bangs!  

These bangs are so indie.  Actually her whole outfit screams, "I live in San Francisco and I'm uber indie."  I love it.