Monthly Archives: February 2010

Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

I know this is really fucking behind. I’m sorry, Heather has even written actual legitimate posts in between the time I was supposed to have written this and now. Don’t ask why I’m so late; I can’t even tell you.


Rain. Yesterday I turned to my roommates and said “If it rains again, I am going to kill myself.” They laughed uncomfortably and then told me it is supposed to rain all week. I have no working rain boots, no umbrella, and my windshield wipers are broken. I think this is where the kids would say “fml.”

Hipster motherfuckers who don’t tip You know who you are. BEARDED GUY. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking I flirted with you because I wanted to. I had my hand on the motherfucking tip jar, you useless human being. Take the hint.

Hamlet. Not necessarily even the play; just the dude. He was Harry Potter before Harry Potter was Harry Potter, amirite? “Blah blah blah my customary suits of solemn black, I know not “seems,” Mother, blah blah blah, I’m depressed.” Maybe you should have killed yourself during that soliloquy and saved me a bunch of reading, buddy.

Facebook invites All of them, forever

Costco I have many complicated and conflicting feelings about this place. They are, in no particular order: 1. Every store should be Costco. The economic recession would be over. I can never ever find a parking spot, ever. 2. They sell quinoa in bulk now for $10 for 4 pounds! So great! 3. Coscto turns people into animals. I almost witnessed a cart-rage incident at like 11 am. 4. It’s so hit-and-miss with the free samples. Sometimes it’s like “grilled queso with mango salsa!” or “delicious bread with bruschetta!” and sometimes it’s like “chickpeas covered in shit-colored sauce that doesn’t taste good.” 5. What do we think about their liquor section? y/n?

When your tofu freezes and gets fucked up Seriously, look at this:

Meme Roth Fuck that bitch. In an entirely figurative sense. In reality, you should not fuck her, ever. She’ll be all “no, I need to be on top, I burn more calories that way.”

Sabra Sun-dried Tomato Hummus Seriously, pine nut hummus 4 lyfe. This shit tastes weird.

IN OTHER NEWS, THIS MAN EXISTS. His photo is my favorite thing on the internet right now.

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(originally here)


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well done, Potter

I read an article this morning about Daniel Radcliffe filming a PSA for the Trevor Project, an org that helps depressed or suicidal LGBTQ teens.  First of all, how great, and secondly, Radcliffe makes a very similar point to what I tried to yesterday, but is generally much more well-spoken.

“I’ve always felt very lucky to have the life that I’ve had. I never had to cope with anything serious about my religion or sexual orientation or anything like that.  I think it’s important for somebody from a big, commercial movie series like ‘Harry Potter’ and particularly because I am not gay or bisexual or transgendered…. The fact that I am straight makes not a difference, but it shows that straight people are incredibly interested and care a lot about this as well.” (Italics my own.)

What I meant yesterday was that in my opinion, who I sleep with has nothing to do with the causes I support, and it just bothers me when people take the former as causation for the latter.  Because aligning politics among sexual lines, like aligning politics among gender or racial lines, can delimit the power or spread of certain movements.

To use a different example, I know several people who agree with the main FA tenets but are afraid to actually argue on its behalf, because FA activism is often viewed in the media as a bunch of fatties who have “given up on themselves” and just want to be left alone.  It bothers me that LGBTQ activism, as far as I have experienced it, has a similar problem.  Like, “If you [wear that T-shirt/participate in that march/take Queer Studies], people will think you’re gay.”  Well, first, why is considered that so fucking awful?  And secondly, why do we live in a culture that makes that assumption automatic?

If people think I’m not heterosexual based on anything I do outside the political realm, I don’t care.  I’m sorry if I offended anyone yesterday because I couldn’t explain myself properly.

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Stuff Heather Thinks is Super Great

Johnny Weir is made of class. Articulate and thoughtful, Johnny gave a press conference on Wednesday in response to the RDS/Mailhot and Goldberg incident (in which they questioned his gender and claimed he was a “bad example” for kids interested in skating).  Instead of demanding an apology, Johnny basically said that he believes in free speech and though the comments were offensive, he’s heard people trash-talk him worse than that, so he’s primarily concerned with the repercussions of these (heteronormative, heterosexist) ideas on youth who may feel “different” from the ideal.   Even the French judge from Torino would give that speech a 6.0, man.  (If I haven’t talked enough about Johnny and you want more, Bryan Safi –– that rad dude! –– did a That’s Gay episode on basically everything that’s wrong with the way NBC and other media outlets have discussed the athlete.)

Neckties. I went with some relatives to Macy’s last week to help a male cousin pick out interview clothes, and honestly, sometimes I wish I were male-bodied just so I could wear neckties with waistcoats and no one would ascribe to me certain personal traits or sexualities, as they might if I did that in my actual, female body.  (Coincidentally, after three days of me being all “I wish ties weren’t so historically associated with male-bodied people, OMG,” Autostraddle came out with an accessory guide this week that says I should just stop worrying and go for it: “If we all agree that ties are ok to wear, here and now, you won’t have to worry about anyone judging you because we’ll all be on the same page! Okay?! Good, glad we had this talk.”  Thanks, Autostraddle!)

Designer bags. When did I become a designer snob?  seriously!  I had no idea how much the labels on knockoff bags meant to me until the local flea market got raided and they started using recognizably generic (legal) labels, such as “B&L” on a clearly D&G-inspired item.  “B&L,” seriously? You can’t even make an attempt at faking and call it something that looks like “D&G,” such as “D&C” perhaps?  I have since been scouring Gilt, Rue La La, and the like for legit designer bags, but can’t afford any of them.  I have serious FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS.

The construction paper cutouts in the common room of my suite. Look how awesome the Speedster made our living space!  She is so talented.

Working with watercolors. The Pelikan set that we were required to buy for class is so much more vibrant than the Crayola version I imagine when I hear the word “watercolor.”  These are bright and substantial and make everything I draw look sunnier.

The “Legalize Gay” T-shirt I bought at American Apparel. Yes, that one.  Except the cloth of mine is purple and the typeface white.  I wore it at home last week and thought someone would say something about it, such as inquiring about my sexual orientation to my face –– I’m looking at you, former retail customer who assumed my wearing an anti-AIDS bracelet automatically meant I was a lesbian –– but no one did!  Hooray!  (As a brief sidenote, though, can I say how problematic it is that this heteronormative culture of ours often presumes that anyone who supports LGBTQ causes is her-/himself LGBTQ?  Causes such as same-gender marriage or the repealing of DADT are human rights issues, period.  It limits the power of such causes when an ideology gets promoted that said causes are “only important to a small minority,” that anyone who cares about it must be part of that minority, and therefore, the assumption goes, these causes aren’t as “important” in the grand scheme.  They are fucking important, and people of all sexualities and genders can see that.  Okay, I’m done.)

The chocolate cake Rachel made for Valentine’s Day, leftovers of which I took advantage of because her boyfriend’s my suitemate/recently promoted Agent of Marketing. It had raspberry frosting and was in the shape of a heart.  I think that says it all.  Except, wait: YUM.  There, now I’ve said it all.

Come to Me, Amy Bloom. I like that this collection is broken up into duos and trilogies of connected stories.  “Henry and Marie” and “Three Stories” are my favorites.

Kate Beaton is really on this week. The Twilight joke alone makes this series of short comics awesome.


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an open letter to the Disney Channel

Dear Disney,

If I may inquire, what are you trying to pull?

This appears to be a modernized (some might prefer bastardized) remake of the beloved children’s book-turned-Nickelodeon-movie-starring-Michelle-Trachtenberg Harriet the Spy, but it hardly follows the plot of the original –– in either medium –– at all.  It’s as if you took the character of Harriet Welch, thought, “Hey!  Kids these days like computers and underdogs, right?” and made a television movie.  Or maybe you based it on the Harriet fanfic written by a twelve-year-old, I don’t know.  A twelve-year-old with her own LiveJournal.  Which, as I’m sure you know, is a blog, one that this twelve-year-old would have started in her free time.  Not in class.  Because what kind of class has an official blogger?  What would the “class blogger” even write about –– geography?  Algebraic equations?

To put it simply, Disney, you make me very upset.

my childhood


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top five: things i love to buy

I’ve probably done this one before, but you’ll have to deal. I haven’t posted as much because lately my Number One And Also Only Feeling has been My Thesis, but I also recognize I am the only one who cares about this, and that angst is only interesting to the people experiencing it. SO. ANYWAYS. I will instead talk about what I have been doing to procrastinate when I don’t want to be working on my thesis (which is obvs all the time,) and that is Online Window Shopping. I am broke, and trying to write a thing that is hard to write, and so obviously most of what I do with my time is look at things I want to buy, either on the internet. There’s something weird and complicated going on there – like, trying to make art is hard and makes me uncomfortable, so instead I numb myself with weird consumerist binges – but we’re not going to go there! Because my insurance pays for therapy and I could get that if I want to talk about my feelings quite that much. Anyways, here’s a list.

1. Food I love doing this. I also love cooking food. These things are related. I do not particularly love eating food – I mean, I do, but no more than the next guy – I just like shopping for it and preparing it the way the SATC girls liked buying fancy shoes and vag perfume and then putting them on before dates. (I’ve never seen an episode of SATC.) This kind of came to a head recently where I was literally flat broke for a week, and realized that part of that was because I had spent like $15 just on cheese that week. What can I say? I love fancy fermented dairy products.

2. Cookware This is a corollary, but I’m going to give it its own section. One of my high school friends is getting married (that is a whole OTHER post) and I spent a good hour tonight giving him suggestions for things he could put on his gift registry. (About twenty-five seconds about having it explained to me what a gift registry is.) Ooh, Le Creuset is so nice! Get a dutch oven! Get one of the little ones, they’re so cute! You could name it! I feel so stereotypical when I do this, like is this how men feel when they walk into a Home Depot and say “I need a power drill”? Like they are fulfilling some deep unspoken cultural calling?

3. Office supplies I feel like this is one of those things we all love doing, like it is conditioned into us with the belief that every September if we buy nice enough Lisa Frank folders and cool enough tshirts we can be new people, popular and beloved and shiny forever. Obviously this has not happened to me, as I am wearing a pair of fleece jammies and doing a shitty job on a pretentious undergraduate thesis. But the dream never dies. This is the first year I bought a daily planner for the new year, and while the amount I actually use it is kind of negligible, it still gives me warm little heart flutters to see it on my desk, so crisp and organized-looking and such an efficient shade of robins-egg blue. Like, looking at it makes me feel like I might be the kind of person who uses it, do you know what I mean?

4. Clothes from Forever 21 I am not proud of this. But let me explain: About 50% of what Forever 21 sells is kind of mediocre and not worth the money. Like this tank top. It’s cute or whatever, but not $17.80 worth of cute. 25% of what they sell is absolutely heinous. Like, if Regina George saw you wear this, she would ask “That’s so cute! Where did you get it?” and I would not even blame her, because really, that’s a lace trim leopard-print skirt. The photo has a model wearing it, they couldn’t even pay a model to put it on. But then! Then the other 25%! Is stuff that is really actually something I would like to wear on my body! I get that it is “cheap” and “low quality” and “I will need to buy another one in six months, you should just spend the money on a nice one” but honestly people this is a pair of jeans for $9.50. I get that they is not as nice as what I could buy at J. Crew (or actually I don’t even really know where rich people shop, whatever) but they are not really any worse than what I could find anywhere else? And um, they’re $9.50. And union made. Sooo if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go browse through some glittery five-inch heels now.

5. Cheap beauty products This is maybe the one vestige of hyper-consumerist-appearance-obsessed-seventeen-magazine culture left in me. I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know or care whether my clothes flatter my figure, I do not know whether “nude and understated” or “glitzy and glam” is in style right now. But if I am having a bad day, Revlon ColorShine Glaze and/or Neutrogena Bubbly Mintyface Face Mask become enormously attractive. It doesn’t have to be brandname, but I won’t lie, it helps. Ugh I just want a smooth, soft matte-but-dewy-and-attractive face like everyone on every cover of cosmogirl ever. This is not ulitimately a huge problem, we are talking like $7 a pop, I think I am just more concerned that what it represents is deeply weird and unhealthy? Like, I am disturbed that even though I know better these products still signify to me exactly what they are supposed to, which is apparently validation of myself as a person. The end.

That is all, someone please share embarrassing things that they spend money on so I don’t feel like a freak


Filed under Rachel

i found something to talk about

Actually, two things.

1. “Is It OK To Be Fat?”, the debate between Marianne Kirby, Crystal Renn, MeMe Roth and Kim Benson last night on ABC’s Nightline.  It took me until now to watch it, because I was a bit leery yesterday at the title alone, and I have so many feelings.  For instance: MeMe Roth obviously lives in a different America than I do.  She seriously thinks that Lady Gaga and Beyoncé represent a movement away from the “waif look”?  That thin people are discriminated against and fat people are coddled?  Are the ABC crew sure that Roth isn’t a spam cyborg for TrimSpa or something?  Or maybe because she falls under most categories of privilege (white, educated, upper-middle-class, thin), that is why Roth believes that fat people are not discriminated against?  Well.  Ms. Roth, let me say something.  Kevin Smith –– along with I-don’t-know-how-many noncelebrities –– was not kicked off a Southwest flight for being delicately thin.  He was kicked off for being fat and possessing only one seat assignment.  And can I say something more about the whole “you should buy two seats if you require them” philosophy that supports this treatment?  Fat customers aren’t made to buy two seats because we want the extra space.  It’s not like we’re stretching out across both seats in relaxed luxury, like the Fancy Feast cat resting on a silk pillow.  There’s a fucking armrest in between our seats, just like those of smaller customers –– so like everyone else, we have to settle for fitting into one assigned seat.  The other seat a fat customer is made to buy is strictly for the comfort of the person that would otherwise have sat next to him or her, so that person doesn’t have to (oh, the HORRORS!) deal with a portly neighbor’s blubber overreaching its assigned area.  It is not for the fat customer’s comfort that a second seat is purchased.  It is because fat people are often considered a spatial, visual, economic burden on society, one that oftentimes (as in these incidents with Southwest and United) is created and enforced by the institutions within that society.

There’s also the small matter in which Roth stated that overweight/obese people had brains “4% smaller” than “healthy weight” people.  I understand the study’s from the University of Pittsburgh, as she noted, but I want to know what exactly the university said, since this sounds –– as the audience for the debate attested –– like total crap.  Does the brain shrink as someone gains weight?  What of the five percent of dieters who used to be obese and are now considered “normal” weight, such as Kim Benson?  Do their brains enlarge as these people continue to keep the weight off?  The only way this makes sense is if evolution slowly progressed over centuries to the point that genetically larger people had 4% smaller brains, but then that’s admitting that weight and size has very much to do with genetics and very little to do with willpower or one’s moral worth, which Roth won’t concede to.  Except when it comes to fat women giving birth to kids with spina bifida, at which point Roth says, “You’re fighting against Darwin here!”  Well, MeMe, you can’t have it both ways –– either weight is caused by genetics or it’s caused by one being a self-indulgent slob, and it looks like you’ve undermined your lazy-slob position right there.  Check… and… mate.

2. I read on Jezebel this morning that Utah’s governor is considering the passage into law of a bill that would investigate (with, surprise, the possibility of punishing) women for having miscarriages.  The fear underlying the law is that some women might induce a miscarriage to end their pregnancies; therefore, the law goes, all women who suffer miscarriages can be charged with homicide.  To which I say:  WHAT THE FUCK, UTAH.


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search engines, pt. 2

The WP blog stats say that one of the “top searches” that pull up our site is the phrase “fruit is wrong.”  I have questions for the person or people Googling this.  Step forward, person or people!  I have quirks when it comes to food as well (example: I don’t eat peaches).  Don’t be shy.


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Sometimes I feel like writing a post because (obviously) I like blogging and haven’t, or neither of us have, all week, but I can’t think of anything interesting to say –– at least, anything that others would find interesting enough to want to read.  Or alternatively, I have many thoughts about relatively engaging topics, but can’t whip those thoughts into a coherent structure.  So then I don’t write any posts at all, apart from Super Great lists, and it makes me think, well, what’s the point of having a blog if you don’t actually blog?

So here’s a video set to Debussy in which kittens play in what looks like a box of industrial cleaning wipes.

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Stuff Rachel Fucking Hates

Houston we have a tea problem I really genuinely never thought I could ever be in a position where I was running out of tea – I have so much tea, you guys. But we may finally be approaching that terrible, yawning horizon. One of my coworkers (who is obvs a saint from heaven) has even volunteered to MAIL ME TEA. It is an indicator of how far gone I am that I am really worried it might not get here in time. What will I doooooo

The xx gives me too many fucking feelings The feelings are as follows: 1) I hate liking things everyone else likes, but I like them so much 2) I want to put like every song of theirs on a mix cd, but you kind of can’t do that with mix cds. Maybe I should just give their album to everyone, I dunno. 3) I can’t lie, I really want to make out with their female vocalist. But make out with her in a way that still allows her to sing the entire time. Whatever, I’ll work on this part. The point is she’s hot. What’s up, Romy Madley Croft?

Inappropriate amounts of cake/wine In the aftermath of Valentine’s Day (which I did end up “celebrating”, a little late) I have zero wine left (problem!) and a shit ton of chocolate cake (less urgent problem.) Ideally, I could perform some kind of cake-to-wine conversion. Is this possible? Is this, like, a Jesus thing? Holler at me, Lord and Savior. I’ll share the wine. Or realistically, share some cake, I need to get rid of it.

Thesis thesis thesis Are you guys sick of hearing about this yet? GOOD. ME TOO. I am starting to think I should have done one of those “One Year” books, like “My Year of Living Biblically” or “A Year of Eating A Lot of Edamame” or whatever. Then at least I would have gotten something out of this. An advance for “My Year Of Spending A Lot Of Time Writing Something Only My Advisor and Maybe My Mother Will Read, Much Like This Book.”

I am upset about the men’s figure skating awards and I didn’t even watch them Team Johnny forevs, srsly

I miss my brother Seriously you guys he’s really great, once he gave me a liquor luge for my birthday and also he can do a velociraptor impression



Filed under Rachel

Stuff Heather Thinks is Super Great

Chocolate-covered strawberries. Uncharacteristically, my mom has been on a “let’s dip foodstuffs in melted chocolate” kick this week.  As such, I’ve eaten (at last count) sixteen of these fruity delights since I got home.  Why is it that strawberries are more delicious to pair with chocolate than any other fruit?  Even the idea of dipping mangoes in chocolate sounds less appealing to me.  (Pardon me while I salivate all over my chin.)

Delurkers. Jenny, Meghan, Michele: welcome!  We are happy to have you!  (Lurkers who are not Jenny, Meghan, or Michele, hello there and feel free to delurk if/when you feel comfortable.  As someone who usually just lurks herself, I will not pressure you.)

Skins. Around the same time last week, Rachel and I independently came to the idea that we should start watching this British teen drama.  But I began actually doing so a few days earlier than she did, and therefore I’m about ten episodes ahead of her.  I’m trying SO HARD to wait for her to catch up, but you guys, it’s difficult!  Even as an Anglophile, I am embarrassed by how invested I’ve gotten in these fictional Bristol teenagers.

Vitamin String Quartet. Can’t get enough of their instrumental covers of popular songs.  “Bohemian Rhapsody,” anyone?  Or “Smells Like Teen Spirit”?  Or maybe you feel like a little Alanis?  You know what they say: if it’s not baroque, don’t fix it.

Or maybe you feel like a string version of “Bad Romance”? Never fear, it’s right here.

This guy –– “drbilderburger,” to use his YouTube handle –– does string trios of various pop songs, including but not limited to “Paparazzi” and “Poker Face,” both of which translate astonishingly well to the format.  (Though I’d argue that the former works slightly better.)  And yet this guy only has 33,000 views!  What a travesty.  If anything should go viral, it should be this –– not another video of some bro getting kicked in the balls.

On a related (to Gaga, not ball-crushing) note, the be-your-freaky-self idea behind Gaga’s philosophy. This ideology seems to have engendered in her fans a desire to restyle or mark her work (e.g. songs, fashion, choreography, whatevs) as their own; the community that has sprung up around Gaga seems based, at least in part, by this longing.  The desire to reclaim admired works as one’s own is shared by every fandom, obviously –– just look at –– but I feel like the Gaga fandom marks the pinnacle of an growing trend in pop culture, one that began with Seth Cohen and the concurrent “sexy geek”* archetype –– the idea that to be X [in which X is nerdy, weird, lame, a freak, whatever] and to be cool are not mutually exclusive, that you can be yourself and be rewarded or admired for it.  The concept’s spawned so-called “camera-whoring” and the cast of Jersey Shore, but on the other hand, it’s brought forth our Lady of Bat Skulls and the aforementioned bursts of confidence in thousands of little monsters.  People aren’t afraid to show themselves for who they are, and for that we should (mostly) be grateful.

*Teen People, circa 2004 or so, if I remember correctly.  Yeah, I used to have a pinup of Adam Brody from the magazine that called Seth a “sexy geek,” so what?


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