Last week I nearly had a panic attack when I thought Google was down… no Gchat, no Gmail, no Google web search, no Reader, no Analytics?? no Blogger for Melly Mell, no access to my Google Docs, no Gcal, no Gmaps!!!??? No Google. Repeat: all things Google DOWN. Turns out it was just Firefox being bitchy.
So, I would just like to say a few things to Google: Hi there, I’m sorry if I take your unfathomable memory space for granted, and I know that I Google myself and check my Analytics all the time, and that I’m all like me me me me, and you put up with that….. but it’s just because you’re SUCH a good listener, and you’re always there for me, and I’ve come to really depend on that. But that day, that day was hard, man. I mean, I was utterly lost without you, and I sat there like this pathetic heap crosslegged on the floor with my laptop resting on my yogapants and cried out in anguish, Why?? Why?? I need you!! What do I have to say?? Please don’t leave me! You make me want to be a better woman, you had me at hello, Google, I freakin’ wuv you!!!
Melly was sad, and no amount of reloading and refreshing did anything to appease the aching loneliness in my soul. And then, Oh! It wasn’t you, it was Firefox!! Oh, Google!! How could I ever doubt you!! You would never leave me!! Sorry you had troubs with Firefox, if you wanna talk about it, Gchat me!!
Kthxbai!
For those of you who ❤ the Google, the prospect of a Google phone probably excites you, but I would bet not as much as it does me. If you ever wonderered if the Google phone was urban legend, and if it would ever come to fruition…..a little sneak preview of what the newest smartypants phone looks like.
Knitters are given instructions for making a sock, when said sock is finished, they send it to a friend, if that friend hasn’t finished their sock by the time the next sock arrives in the mail, they’re “KILLED”
seriously people, this is not for the faint of heart….
1. He totally ate at the Time Square Olive Garden yesterday….. and his first choice was TGI Fridays, home of the fried Mac N Cheese Ball….
2. He’s about to be endorsed by Tim LaHaye, author of the Left Behind series….Those black glossy books with flashy neon titles designed to scare the shit out of people with a high school reading equivalent…My favorite quote from the first one (and I only read the first one) was something along the lines of “Oh Gosh, Ray!” eloquently delivered by Hattie, airline stewardess soon-to-be-Anti-Christ’s concubine in the ensuing pages.
Call me crazy, but if the Apocalypse is upon you, and your ass ain’t going no where because all the saved people are already out of there, why purty up the language?? If there was ever a time to drop an F bomb, I’m thinking it might be when fire and brimstone is singeing your ass. It all went downhill from there for me.
But LaHaye has made a pretty penny turning out this crap, and he’s willing to share it with Mikey. God likes it when we share.
As someone with a staked interest in debunking the “vaginas are the route of all evil” campaign, I’m a little shocked that I’ve found not one, but two Lysol douche adverts this week!! Did our mothers really clean their *thule’s with the same ingredient they scrubbed toilets with???? Sweet Jesus on a cracker, ouch??
Also thule (pronounced Too-lee, like the bike rack) is the Hughes women’s vag nickname. It’s kind of like tu-lip, get it? My parents never taught us proper names for “those” body parts, that was WAY to hippie. In fact, in terms of sex knowledge, I’m here to say, I’m 28 and have a four year old son, and we’ve still yet to have that talk. Ooops. via Bitchslap
Oooooohhhh….Melly Wanty. Oh, so pretty!!!Hey, if you’re going to make a wishlist, why not go over the top???? This is a customized Italian Leather notebook with pretty hand sewn Swarovski crystals (have no idea what those are, but it sounds waaaay swank) and hand embroidered paisley doo-dads…
Das ist SEHR HEISS!!!! How freaking adorable would I look geeking out on that little beauty, huh???
I’ve been reading a lot of Simone de Beauvoir lately, and also in the past few days have read Ibsen’s “Dollhouse” like four times… I could post on Nora’s character alone, but I’ve been mulling something over for a few days, and think I’ve come to some realization. So, the phenomenon of why great girls prefer to date douche bags, and why great guys stay tied down with down-right bitchy girls is, although a quandary, nothing terribly new.
My boyfriend is infuriatingly intelligent at times, this is one of the many things that I love about him. It’s no fun dating someone who shares your opinions on everything. The other day he admitted to me that guys basically need to put themselves in one of two categories. The first is the “nice guy”. The nice guy lives his daily life in a constant state of consideration, in short, he lives his life for another being. He helps with groceries, does dishes, makes you breakfast every morning, watches the movies you want to watch, drops anything to help his friends, unless you need him more, and is known for being a good listener, etc. Sounds dreamy, right?
The second category is, by default, the “bad guy”. In simplest of terms the bad guy lives for himself. He knows what he likes, and he indulges in the food, music, movies, and company of others that please him, which lucky for you…… is you. This isn’t to say that the bad guy doesn’t make you coffee or surprise you with ice cream every once in a while, he does, and when he does, it goes a long, long, long way. The “bad guy” is selfish in a really healthy way.
In high school AP Spanish class “El Mono” was leading a class discussion on his interpretation of a Lorca poem, I can’t for the life of me remember what it was, but what he said has stuck with me as being one of the most incredibly simple and profound jewels to ever stumble out of an 18 year-olds mouth. The gist was that we’re all snails, and we travel around with our houses, which is basically a metaphor for our sense of self. Without a well maintained house, or sense of self, we’re snails without shells, which are basically just slugs. And slugs just suck. Yep. Right on. Baby dolls suck too, and that’s usually the term I use when I feel my sense of self slip away and I begin acting like Nora.
The thing is you want to be with the “bad guy”, and you want to be a “bad girl” if that means that you’re doing what is right for you and cultivating your sense of self. When you think down to it, and here’s where Matt is right, (this post has been dated and time stamped in case you think hell is freezing over) you don’t want to be with the “nice guy”. A guy that wakes up and makes you coffee every day, well unfortunately for him, that gesture of generosity becomes something that is expected, and then eventually, not appreciated. The “nice guy” that brings you flowers constantly, well again, this becomes expected, and so when they fuck up, they need to out do themselves. That’s when they fill your entire room with flowers while you’re out… and that’s just kind of creepy gentlemen, and it makes us wonder what you did.
Seriously, analyze this act outside of the John Hughes (although it’s technically Cameron Crowe) reality, and you’ll agree with me….Creepy…… even for Lloyd Dobler….
I’ve dated the “nice guys”, and quite honestly, they usually turn out to be real life bad guys. Fancy dinners and nice wine is great and all, flowers are cool, but they die pretty fast, and it doesn’t make up for actual relationship content. And in the end, all that denying and depriving themselves of the company/food/movies/porn/ that they’re into comes out in really ugly and destructive ways, and then they’re filling your room or entire apartment with flowers, or standing below your window holding a boombox, and it’s really just a hop skip and a jump before you find out a whole bunch of ugly shit that’s been going down and everybody and their brother knows about it, but they’re not telling YOU, because in order to date the nice guy, you’ve become the nice girl……
Personally, I’d rather have it all out in the open. Ideally, you know what’s expected of you, what your role as a supporter and lover is, and if you choose to go above and beyond that every once in a while, well, just make sure it’s because you want to, and it’ll go a long, long, long way.
My bestest friend in the world confessed to me the other night that she was an avid fan of Project Runway. Because I love her, and don’t know how she lives her daily life without high speed internet, I’m posting this video for her. I also like to post 80’s music videos from my childhood over the weekends….Bonus: Here’s Jack’s dramatic exit video
I came across a post this summer about a couple who were considering implanting a uterus into the male in order for them to conceive… not because she was infertile, but because she always felt that he’d be a great mother, and she didn’t have a maternal side…It kind of pissed me off for many reasons, but mainly because pregnancy is a beautiful thing, and it’s one of the few experiences that’s OURS as women… I guess that makes me a really bad feminist, and quite honestly, I don’t really care. While it takes two to make a baby, and a pregnancy can be shared by two in some sense, the lower back pain and swollen ankles and pickles with ice cream thing (I was more of a BBQ Pringles w/Phish Food ice cream girl) is really a solo experience, and don’t throw that “sympathy symptoms” crap in my face, cuz as one who has lived through it, it’s a bunch of hooey.
Well even if that uterus implant took, apparently men can’t carry to full term because of the shape of your spines!! Yep, you all just don’t have what it takes! Women’s spines are S shaped, and shift through out the pregnancy to enable them to carry weight in the front. Weaker sex, my hiney!! (thought I’d refrain from potty mouth in a baby post, seems logical, or I could throw a big F bomb in the mix, throw a $20 in Jack’s piggy bank, and call it a day)
This does not mean that it’s ok to let a pregnant woman stand on the subway. All that jostling around is really bad for baby!!
Melly has an interview tomorrow @ 4pm….. and I actually KNOW about this one, so I’ll be sure to wear more than moisturizer and chapstick…. perhaps even make-up?? I did already shave my legs and all…..
It’s kind of a really slow news day, or it could be that I’m moving at a snails pace. Quite honestly, I feel pretty out of it. I slept for 11 hours yesterday, and that is very unlike me. I have no urge to do anything today other than eat Haagen Daaz by the Pint and watch movies. However, I did manage to shave my legs today for the first time in a week. I know, kinda nasty, but it’s cold out, and my skin is REALLY sensitive so I can’t do it all the time, and the bf is away for a week, so why even bother??
I also HATE shaving, and if my hair were finer and lighter I’d probably not shave at all… and the whole obsession with body hair is still something I think about a lot, as in where the line is drawn between choosing to straighten or curl (umm, *clarify* talking about the hair on my head), and pluck and shave in a way that society likes, verses my own personal opinion about hair in general…. and only because I don’t have a firm opinion on this issue do I continue shaving and plucking, etc… and ya know, when all is said and done, it gets kinda itchy.
So I remembered that this week I was lunching with a friend of mine, the same friend who…ahem…. lost her “trill”… anyways, when she was going to visit her new “friend” it was kind of obvious that she was going to sleep with him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. My friend is similar to me in that she’s impulsive, the kind of girl who’ll take what’s offered to her in the moment, knowing full well that she may not want it again down the road. And I’m not just talking about the company of men, but in the “do I really want that ice cream, third drink, cute shoes, etc.” impulsiveness. I won’t say that the majority of women are like this, and in fact impulsiveness definitely extends to the males as well, so this isn’t really a gender thing… But seeing that she was on the fence about sleeping with him, I told her, “just don’t shave your legs, or wear your granny panties,” She looked at me like I was completely nuts, but really, haven’t we all done something preventative to keep us from making a choice that we know we might not be able to make rationally??
Trust me, there’s no easier way to swat a hand that’s reaching for your belt than remembering that you’re sporting your over the navel full coverage briefs…
Last week I nearly had a panic attack when I thought Google was down… no Gchat, no Gmail, no Google web search, no Reader, no Analytics?? no Blogger for Melly Mell, no access to my Google Docs, no Gcal, no Gmaps!!!??? No Google. Repeat: all things Google DOWN. Turns out it was just Firefox being bitchy.
Mellissa Hughes - Soprano 