feminism?

hanging out with the past

my friend donell is in town.

I’m just going to go ahead and carelessly throw his name into this post because I don’t believe him when he says he reads my blog.

he and i go way back to that one party in high school where i wore the red heels. oh. and prom. we went to my prom together. mostly we just fought the whole time, but that was because we were two stupid teenagers. plus, he totally started it.

Anywho, he’s in town from Texas. or maybe Louisiana. I’m not exactly sure where he lives these days. somewhere down south.

We keep in touch via Facebook pokes and birthday texts enough though that I wanted to at least see him while he visited the land of lincoln. you know, to make sure he was still as cute in person as his profile picture led me to believe.

I knew the whole thing would be supa surreal, but that didn’t stop it from being SUPA SURREAL.

I like to think I’m 10 years older than i was when i was 16, what with the calendar telling me so and whatnot. but when i hang out with him it’s like im a little girl hoping he’ll hug me good-bye. I lose all ability to interpret secret boy code or come off as any sort of charming.

the whole thing was made even stranger because our other friend Jason also joined the group. (again, throwing his name out there because im pretty sure he was just being polite when he took my blog card).

i went to homecoming with Jason. we didn’t fight the whole time, but i do remember yelling at him while we sat at an intersection. or, wait.  maybe that was a different day. no. no. it was homecoming. i remember wearing the blue and black dress while i scolded him by name.

anyway, both of these guys were  just the very coolest in my teenage eyes.

i dreamed of the day when i’d be able to dance with jason without bumping my head on his (yes. that happened). or when donell would deem me worthy of official “girlfriend” status (that never ended up happening).

but as i hung out with these guys and all their friends Thursday night i realized that it wasn’t a matter of cool versus uncool, it was a matter of different.

i had to hang out with them growing up because my world didn’t extend beyond a five-mile radius of my house. but i’ve gotten older since then. i’ve gotten a car, an education, and a VZNavigator.

i found my way to people like me. people who care about the potential impact of social media on our lives. people who read newspapers and watch the West Wing on DVD. people who don’t get high every freaking day.

well, donell’s at least ON facebook i guess, but i’d bet my blackberry that Jason doesn’t even know what a status update is.

they care about the latest local bands, the pros and cons of Miller Lite or Old Sytle and umm, ya. i think that’s pretty much it.

just because i don’t, doesn’t mean im not cool though.

one of the first things i did when i exchanged pleasantries with Jason was offer my blog card. (it’s a habit i have). and as i handed it to him, he asked why i’d never been to one of his band’s shows.

that’s when i figured it all out.

umm, jason, i haven’t gone to any of your shows because i HATE the type of music you play and only went while 16 because i had a mad crush on you. why in gutair’s name would i put myself through that for any other reason?

now, none of that is a slam on jason’s music. it’s just a reflection of reality.

all of us are different.

and the only reason we ever tolerated each other in the first place was that we couldn’t see anything more than 5 miles away.

thank God for google maps.

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the twins are causing some problems

me, the bride, and carefully held flowers.

me, the bride, and carefully held flowers.

so last weekend i was in a wedding and the bridesmaids got to wear these lovely halter top dresses.

except my boobs (is there a more tactful word i should be using here?) were not having it.

seriously people. they were POPPING out of the d*mn dress.

and the bride’s mom had to get all up in there to pin my bra to the sheer material. and when she was done, the nice southern woman said “don’t sneeze honey, or pins are going to come popping out.”

and i covered my chest with flowers in EVERY SINGLE PICTURE because I was this.close to coming undone and i didn’t want to risk it (see above).

and a number of guys at the wedding came up to me to tell me how great i looked. but no, they were not complimenting my eyes.

and some of the other bridesmaids said they were kinda jealous of my chest. but i know it was all lies. because who the heck would WISH for that kind of thing?

and while we’re on the subject, i swear to you people that my left boob (again, sounds weird) is bigger than my right. and i cannot find ANY bras that fit. and so the left side of all my bras always ends up breaking first.

this is a REAL problem people.

and many a good bra has been ruined by this.

im thinking of just switching to sports bras and calling it a day.

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isn’t wisconsin cold enough?

So i think there’s some sexism going on at my job. either that or everyone just tunes me out when i complain.

First, one of just TWO lights in the women’s bathroom went out, which basically means if someone is in the first stall and you have to use stall two or three you basically end up peeing in the dark (or, if you’re like me and you typically use the bathroom for privacy, it means you have to cry in the dark). Ok. fine. whatever. i KNOW how to pee (and cry) in the dark.

but THEN, yesterday the hot water in the sink broke. and i don’t mean you turn on the hot water and cold comes out, i mean you can’t even get ANY water to come of the hot-water spout.

and now im forced to wash my hands in half melted ice (which is what comes out of the cold-water side). and you people i work with should know that there’s NO WAY i can stand that water for the full 30 seconds hand-washing experts recommend. basically i can only stand it for about .5 seconds

In conclusion, when a virus starts spreading around my office, blame sexism (or my high-pitch voice that’s easy to tune out).

UPDATE: we now have hot water — but it’s worth noting half the bathroom is still dark.

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