Thanks, TSwift—I’m Now Even More Excited to See Nicki Minaj

By Jhonnnnnnnnnnnnnn (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (], via Wikimedia Commons

By Jhonnnnnnnnnnnnnn (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons

When it comes to choosing which concerts to attend, I am very deliberate. There’s a lot to contend with when it comes to investing time and money into live music: paying absurd ticketing fees, finding someone with similar music taste to serve as a partner in concert crime, schlepping to an (often) inconvenient location, and then struggling with the inevitable mob of other fans.

So, if I can’t get no satisfaction from the various terrors of concert going, I need to be 1000 percent sure that the artist I’m paying (financially, physically, emotionally) to see is worth it.

Who makes the cut this week? Nicki Minaj. Who doesn’t? Taylor Swift.

I have had to endure hearing people—namely mothers of children I used to babysit—rave about Taylor’s live performances, but I refuse to be fooled by her high-waisted short theatrics.

I’m much more interested in her failed feminist twitter theatrics from Tuesday night, in which she took Nicki Minaj’s thoughtful—and actually feminist—comments on the VMA nominations and made them all about her.

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Taking up space when you don’t happen to be a man

Who does he think he is? By Ian from London (Photo-714) [CC BY 2.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons

I first diagnosed myself with “Invisible Person Syndrome” in my freshman year of high school.

In a matter of two days, I had several times been casually slammed—not walked—into by older, larger, male students. Each time, I managed not to fall over, but I teetered dangerously, and then walked on, no one else having noticed what had happened. Like it hadn’t happened at all.

Unable to suss out a reason for this unfortunate series of events, I simply decided that I had “Invisible Person Syndrome,” or IPS. Symptoms include, but are not limited to:

  • Getting walked into
  • Getting knocked over
  • Getting pushed into and/or over barriers at large events (concerts, rallies, parades, etc.)
  • Receiving dirty looks when it looks like you might make a movement on public transportation
  • Being verbally reprimanded when you dare to make said slight motion
  • A gradual increase in height from being squished all the damn time
  • Fury

As a high school freshman, I thought myself existentially brilliant for this naïve diagnosis. As a 23-year old woman, I now know that I was merely encountering a common problem I would face the rest of my life: Women apologizing for their existences.

In yesterday’s New York Times, Sloane Crosley nimbly wrote about this issue in “Why Women Apologize and Should Stop,” focusing on the common female verbal tic of saying, “Sorry” when it simply isn’t necessary.

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A brief refresher course on ‘Things that are quite all right’—and why they matter

First and foremost, yes, I am still here. I have not left. I have merely been enduring that difficult little thing called “life,” making it somewhat challenging to maintain a regular blogging presence.

But I’m back.

There are many reasons why I have gone so long not posting on this website, and none of them include leaving behind this blog’s mission. In fact, the experiences and changes I have undergone have only strengthened my belief in it.

Now, let me remind you why we’re all here:

I would never argue that “Everything is going to be all right,” because, unfortunately, not everything in the world is going to be all right. The losses and shifts in my life over the past few years have made me a diehard believer in that fact.

Nonetheless, amid the strife, conflict, and woe that will serve as the contents of our progeny’s history books, there are many things about which you need not worry your little head, or things that may even make your little head happy, or at least content. These are what we refer to (scientifically, of course) as, “Things That Are Quite All Right.”

And that, my friends, is why I’m here. I can’t promise that every post will be a groundbreaking, or that you won’t already know not to worry about it. I can’t ensure that I know what I’m talking about 100% of the time, or possibly ever. And I certainly can’t guarantee that you will agree with me.

What I can promise is that I will do my very best to highlight the small (and maybe sometimes not-so-small) things that can put you more at ease, even if it’s just because they are the things that put me more at ease. It is of the utmost importance that we find those few spots of sun in our lives. If we don’t—especially if I don’t—witnessing the things that aren’t all right is going to chip away at our foundation until we crumble completely.

Moving forward, I will be (barring disaster aka loss of internet) posting on here weekly. I welcome feedback and suggestions, so please feel free to comment.

Being kind of ok with America for once

Rally for Marriage Equality

Rally for Marriage Equality (Photo credit: vpickering)

I generally have little faith in most everyone/everything. Statistics suggest that my generation tends to lean toward the liberal (or at least, the Democrat), but we probably (according to a poll I haven’t conducted) also lean toward the distrusting. George W. Bush as the first US President we can really remember? Not a great starter. You can only stomach one “Mission Accomplished” banner before you start getting pretty skeptical.

But after the Supreme Court rulings against The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) and Proposition 8, my dismal outlook, the one that had me depressed/convinced that Mitt Romney would somehow “magically” win and immediately release a swarm of mind-control robot aliens who would implant chips into our (and our pets’) brains, lightened up ever so slightly, to this specifically multifaceted shade:

Thiihoexcited I am!!

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Why wouldn’t you buy that?

Like a moth, I am primarily drawn to things that look like this.

Yesterday, at the urging (Kind of a strong term—it took about two seconds of conversation.) of my fabulous friend and her roommate, I purchased a full-length dress in the exact material featured above. I would attempt to post a picture of the whole thing, but I am admittedly terrible with cameras and no one is around to help me. But I think you get the aesthetic.

There were only a few years when I fell into the depressing ritual of purchasing and wearing jeans and boring shirts or things from The Gap. It hurts to even attempt to remember those days.

Since then, I have slowly developed a “fuck all” approach to shopping and dressing myself. By the end of high school, I had finely whittled my philosophy down to the inspirational, rhetorical, incredulous question, “Why wouldn’t you buy that?” Continue reading

Watching ‘bad’ TV

gossip girl

You know you love it. (Photo credit: joanneteh_32(On Instagram as Austenland))

Here is a list of my ten favorite television shows:

  1. Mad Men
  2. The Sopranos
  3. Arrested Development
  4. Battlestar Galactica
  5. Breaking Bad
  6. 30 Rock
  7. Freaks and Geeks
  8. Frasier
  9. The Wire
  10. Six Feet Under

Now, here is a much more realistic list of television shows I watch regularly/frequently/repeatedly:

  1. Mad Men
  2. Teen Wolf
  3. Gossip Girl
  4. Awkward.
  5. Pretty Little Liars
  6. Gossip Girl
  7. Arrested Development
  8. The Food Network (Yes, this is a show.)
  9. The Sopranos
  10. Gossip Girl

I no longer have a Facebook, but when I did, I constantly found myself censoring my favorite movies and television shows so they were really impressive, like the first list. And I’m so ashamed that I was one of those people, because supposedly bad and embarrassing television is actually the best kind.  Continue reading

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Calling ‘Legally Blonde’ the greatest feminist film of our time

Legally Blonde

Legally Blonde (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Apparently, one of my friends attended some “gifted” students camp in middle school where he took an entire course on “Legally Blonde.” The course ultimately concluded that this film was bad for women and a sad portrayal of feminism.

Let me tell you something. Those “gifted” kids and their teachers don’t know anything about feminism. He only just told me about this class recently when I was gushing about what a radically refreshing feminist viewpoint I see in that same film that’s “bad for women.”

Elle Woods. Ah. Just hearing her name in my head brings a smile to my face and a surge of woman-power to my uterus AND brain. She is a complete BAMF who becomes even BAMF-ier as the movie goes on. Let me explain all of this as simply as I can. Continue reading

Not liking Beyoncé

Why Don't You Love Me (Beyoncé Knowles song)

Why Don’t You Love Me (Beyoncé Knowles song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Before you start screaming and slandering my name, let me just say: I, personally, love BeyoncéThe “Countdown” video is cinematic genius, and I frequently walk (read: stomp) around playing “Diva” on a loop in my head. I take no issue with the lady at all.

Ok. Now that’s over. So who is this satanic fiend who doesn’t like The Queen Bey? My mother.

I always assumed she’d be a shoo-in to the Beyoncé fandom, population: everyone. My mother’s opinions on everything pretty much correspond to those of an avid Beyoncé fan or Beyoncé herself. She’s a huge feminist, likes to dress fierce, voted for Barack Obama, knows how to have a good time and drink a couple, and didn’t change her maiden name (Ok, Beyoncé did that a little—but so did Jay-Z so it’s even). I’m sure the list goes on, but trust me—my mother and Beyoncé are two liberal, awesome, autonomous people.

So what’s not to like, according to my mother (Whose opinion I almost universally accept, excepting when she thinks she’s a doctor and can diagnose me. She has an MBA. It’s not helpful. Sometimes I need to see an MD.)? I honestly don’t think she had developed much of an opinion about Beyoncé until she graced the cover of Vogue a few months ago. Naturally, my household receives two copies of Vogue every month because my sister and I need individual copies. It’s also very convenient to have one in the bathroom and one in the living room or wherever. Just a tip.

When I picked up my copy, my sister quickly came up to me and whispered: “Oh don’t show that to mom. She already saw the other one and she really doesn’t like Beyoncé.” Let’s all react together: WHAAAAAAAAT? My thoughts exactly. Continue reading

Cutting your own hair

When I was in kindergarten, my teacher reprimanded me very seriously when I tried to cut off a piece of my hair. I realize now that she had several reasons for being so concerned:

  1. The other kids might follow suit.
  2. There would be a ton of hair to clean up.
  3. Parents would freak out if their children chopped off all their hair. They had paid good money for those mushroom cuts!

I know for a fact that my parents wouldn’t have cared, but I won’t hold it against my teacher/sufferer of daily torture by children. Still, it has stuck in my mind as one of the lamest reprimands ever.

Why can’t I cut my own hair? There is absolutely no reason I should have to let someone else do it. And even when I do go to a salon, where the stylists have actually been trained to cut hair, I can never really convey what I want. They always try to convince me that I want something else, or that I’m going to cry if they do what I say. Why would I cry after getting bangs, when I came in specifically with a picture of bangs? It doesn’t make sense.

What does make sense is having total control of what happens to my hair and being able to hack off dead ends whenever I see fit. It also makes sense not to spend money. That always makes sense. Continue reading