There are times in my life when I’m confronted by things so nonsensical they make me challenge the way I process the world around me. Is it just me? Here are a few of the things that keep me guessing:
This one is dedicated to the girl who vomited into the trashcan beside me at Penn station. Your boy was too busy texting to hold your hair back, but he was nice enough to nearly pop your arms out of the sockets to get you onto his back to carry you out… Which is when I noticed your (exposed) substantial belly. I don’t get it. Your frame was so small and universally desired, and yet you are full of jiggly. What does it mean? How does one achieve this feat of nature?
REALLY LOUD PEOPLE:
Twice today I have encountered gaggles of train-riding folk practically screaming at each other to talk about … Nothing. The kind of loud nothing that makes your blood boil and makes you want to scream ‘OMG Really?? You love walking that much?? That is AMAZING! Maybe you should walk home sucker!’ Are these people losing their hearing? Should I stop getting irritated and pass on the name of a trusted doctor? Am I the only person who thinks these were man’s best invention?
Tights As Pants:
Baby, ain’t your booty cold? Tights/leggings were made to go beneath skirts and tunics on lazy days… Not to show off you goodies to anybody on the street. Or is it just me? I mean Walgreens does sell the fake denim leggings with the fake butt pockets, which I’m sure could be confusing… But if you’re buying wardrobe staples from the place you get your deodorant and your mom’s pantyhose (in the plastic egg), who’s wrong??
50 Shades of Grey:
This book is written more poorly than Twilight. Let me repeat that: It’s written more poorly than the book that uses the word ‘dazzling’ twice a page: “I was dazzled by the way Edward dazzled me with his dazzling dazzlement.” That’s a direct quote, promise… And 50 Shades is even worse*
Additionally, this book is about an abusive relationship. They call it S&M, but the girl involved is totally not down. #TriggerWarning
Finally, (And I told myself I wouldn’t rant!) there is a very, VERY uncomfortable graphic/ baby-talk dichotomy to all the sexy scenes you can’t wait to read (don’t even try to deny it). They are explicit, but shy away from using grownup language in a way that makes the whole thing more illicit and ashamed of itself than any adult encounter ever should. Imagine: “He took me to the red room of pain, tied me up, and took out a whip. I just knew he was going for my *super duper secret fuzzly wuzzly wuz a bear teeheehee 🙂 place omg heeheehee*
Gross. But you know… Maybe that’s your thing. And if so, I’ve got an episode of SVU for you.
Short Sleeve Sweaters:
Actually, this one makes sense to me, but only now that I live in SF. San Francisco is cold and damp, but if you start trying to scale those hills on foot, you’ll start overheating faster than when the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man accidentally hit a cub scout camping trip. Anywhere outside of this city though… Where are you sleeves hun? I’m asking on behalf of your elbow-ash.
*Full disclosure: I LOVE the Twilight series. The story is arresting and improbable… But that does *not* make it good.