Highly annoying. So now, even though I have a ton of work I should be doing, I'm staring at the wall and wondering if I can get away with taking a nap under my desk, Costanza-style. In an effort to stay awake, I've decided to squeeze in a little OOBH time--I've got a few things to get off my chest, and this cantankerous mood I'm in will surely add fuel to that fire! Here goes.
Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay
This is your FIFTH mugshot in four years, and you're only twenty-five. I can't help but notice that this mugshot looks a little different from the others, and not just because of your ridiculous Barbie hair (which is the brassiest shade of blonde ever bottled, IMO) or the fact that you (thankfully) have stopped fake tanning yourself into Snooki territory. It's not even because you let your teeth rot thanks to whatever it is that you're smoking these days. No, this mugshot is different because of your eyes, which finally look as they should look: scared, and a little bit desperate. I do believe you have finally lost some of your swagger, and that is both a good and a bad thing.
|Did she do her make-up in the dark?|
Losing some swagger is bad, however, because now I'm a little bit afraid for you. I honestly think you're heading for entry into the Forever 27 Club, and that's not a glamorous or elite club, that's just sad.
At least we will always have Mean Girls.
Slutty Nurses and Kitties and Witches, oh my!
I have seen no fewer than three posts in the last week about how pathetic it is for women to use Halloween as an excuse to dress slutty. Most of these posts come from middle-aged moms just like myself who think it's somehow anti-feminist or just plain stupid to pull on some fishnets and a push-up bra and do it up a bit on Halloween. I'd like to offer them all a brimming goblet of Shut The Hell Up.
Sure, not all costumes have to be sexy and not all costumes SHOULD be sexy. If you want to be a big greasy slice of pizza or an Angry Bird, go for it! I'm certainly not going to judge you, in fact I'll probably laugh and tell you I like your costume, because I would like it. But Halloween is a fun holiday, a holiday in which adults get to act like children and play dress-up, and that doesn't necessarily mean that we have to dress up in children's costumes -- we're adults! We have sex! We like boobs! It's a fact.
I grew up doing theater so I'm all for pretending to be another character, and since most of us dress like frumpy middle-class suburbanites every single day of every single year, if someone wants to do something a little crazy, a little outside of their usual comfort zone, what's the harm? It's the one night out of every year that you can get away with dressing like a French Maid if you feel like it, and I personally hope that you DO.
Oui, oui, work it, sistah! Don't let the haters get you down.
So I'm not sure if you guys have noticed, but Christina Aguilera has put on some weight. She's now got bitchy Kelly Osborne, who let's not forget would be an absolute nobody if she didn't have a famous father, publicly calling her fat every chance she gets on national television. She's got bloggers saying she's a fall-down drunk, making fun of her ass, and saying that she has some sort of psychological disorder that makes her not realize how awful she looks in outfits like the one pictured above.
I feel for her. I've put on some weight myself, and I'm also kind of the delusional type in many ways. It's not that I don't acknowledge the extra poundage, it's that I always still think I look okay. Self-esteem? I haz it!
Right up until I see a picture of myself, then I'm like, "HOLY FUCK, WHO STOLE MY CHEEKBONES?!" Does this mean that I am psychologically deluding myself into thinking I am thin? Hell, no. I know I'm not thin, but I don't really care all that much. I still dress nicely and put on some make-up and get my hair done, and I still feel like myself. I'm also blessed with friends and loved ones who still love me no matter what I look like. In fact, my horndog husband is always shocking the hell out of me by thinking I look great when I feel like I need to be rolled down to the Juicing Room to be squeezed.
Finally, the last thing I want to say is this:
Can someone please make this stop??!
Okay, folks. That's all I've got. I don't know about you, but I sure feel better after getting all of this off my chest! Have a groovy weekend.