Barbie is unapologetic. I am unimpressed.

Mattel and Sports Illustrated have teamed up to UNAPOLOGETICALLY celebrate their collective century of making females feel crappy about their bodies. The 50th edition of the Swimsuit Issue will feature a photo shoot of the original 1959 Barbie in her striped one-piece alongside the modernized 2014 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Barbie (available in stores this month), as well as an advertorial to drive home the #unapologetic campaign, which fights back against haters by claiming unrealistic beauty standards actually empower women.

A Mattel spokesperson told ADWEEK, “As with Barbie, every year the Swimsuit edition sparks conversations about women and body image, and Sports Illustrated stands unapologetically behind this issue that women, in reality, love ...Unapologetic is a rally cry to embrace who you are and to never have to apologize for it.” 

Hmm... #notbuyingit. The doll, the magazine or the spin.

It never occurred to me to expect an apology before - my Barbie Dream House and Soda Shoppe provided hours of fun when I was a kid, and Barbie has become a bit less disturbing over the years, given the ability to return the male gaze in 1971 and a wider waist in 1997. But featuring a children's doll in a magazine meant for grown men (oh and women who apparently "love" the Swimsuit issue...), alongside hypersexualized, airbrushed images of supermodels writhing around on the beach? And claiming this is a "rally cry" for Average Jane to embrace who she is? I'm insulted. And grossed out. And now I want an apology.


Photo credit: http://www.adweek.com/news/press/sports-illustrated-swimsuit-issues-newest-model-barbie-155653

Lululemon pant problems chalked up to (fat) user error

Earlier this week on Bloomberg TV, Lululemon co-founder Chip Wilson seemed oblivious to the foot in his mouth when he said yoga pants "don't work for some women's bodies." He later clarified that "it's really about the rubbing through the thighs, how much pressure is there over a period of time and how much they use it." Well, that sounds like not every woman can wear your pants, Chip. "No, I think they can. I just think it's how you use it."


Meaning... if you use yoga pants on your chubby, muscular or borderline average thighs, you might distress the fabric to the point of malfunction. If you face the fact that you should be purchasing two sizes above what you normally do, and wear the pants on, say, your arms, however, they work just fine! Or if you're one of the emaciated models posing for the "thinspiration" pins haunting the dreams of half the population of suburban junior highs chools, you're good to go!

It's no surprise a lot of women were outraged by Wilson's comments and have pledged to boycott the brand. But a lot of Interwebs commenters are coming to Wilson's defense for being the first person to say what everyone else is thinking - spandex isn't for everyone. First of all, I believe Kimmy Gibbler was the first person to say that. And second, whether he likes it or not (and judging from later in the interview when Chip talks about how wealthy he is, he does), a large part of Lululemon's success is due to its reputation for producing slimming yoga pants. And you know who buys slimming clothes? Well, all women, probably, but especially women who might indulge in a french fry on special occasions. Personally, I think Nike's are more flattering, but most of my friends swear by their Lulus and claim their butts don't look as good in anything else. Even Hoda Kotbe can't help herself from shrugging her shoulders after every negative story about Lululemon and talking about how much she loves her yoga pants and how thin they make you look.

While "Sure they're insanely expensive, but they make you look skinny!" might not be Lululemon's official tagline, that, along with "Let people know you work out, and you're rich!" are the incentives behind 90 percent of Lululemon purchases, according to me. So I think Chip should either stop participating in the mass production of spandex clothes, if he doesn't think the mass of human women can pull them off, or embrace his costumer base by reinforcing the confidence his magical pants have given them, instead of alienating them and contributing to the dangerously unrealistic "thigh gap" obsession with his bizarre comments.

Maybe because I do happen to love Lulu tank tops, I want to believe Wilson isn't a misogynist - he's just kind of a weirdo... and he needs to find a CEO to look into quality control issues (because he's too busy enjoying his wealth to do it himself)... and maybe a PR director who knows something about media training.

People Google idiotic things. Idiots tend to be sexist.

This brilliantly disturbing ad campaign from UN Women uses Google's auto-complete function to show popular searches about women worldwide. As it has been pointed out in comments, search results are usually tailored by search history, geography, preferences, etc., but I think that's kind of the point... also written by a TIME reader: "Women aren't moral creatures, they don't have the stake in society that men do.  They shouldn't have the vote." Point furthered.

My first reaction to the campaign was to wonder how my feminist-leaning laptop might auto-complete searches about men vs. women. The results were worrisome - for men who want to live in warm climates as well as women who want to live as equals.

Starving feminism

I’ve always had a hunch that unattainable beauty standards were invented to keep women under the glass ceiling, too busy on the StairMaster to actually, er, metaphorically climb any symbolic ladders. Twiggy’s popularity was just too well-timed with second-wave feminism, and I don’t think any male politicians have had to worry about their “cankles.” But it wasn’t until a couple of weeks ago that I actually saw this dangerously effective distraction in action.

I was attending a meeting of about 20 marketing colleagues that was run by an attractive, fit woman, probably in her 40s. I’ll call her Boss Lady. I had never seen her in person before the meeting, and her attractiveness was actually the first thing I noticed upon meeting her. (I realize that makes me a bad feminist, but the first thing I noticed about a male colleague was his wonky cross-eyes, so hopefully this habit just makes me shallow.) Boss Lady was very put-together, sporting a flattering pants suit – the kind that reminds me I’m in the wrong profession, as I could never pull the outfit off, and have no interest in spending the money to try.

On the second day of the meeting, Boss Lady was at the front of the room in another power suit, “whiteboarding” our ideas (kind of like waterboarding, but in business casual), when a colleague walked in front of her to get back to her seat after stepping out. Boss Lady was in the middle of saying something about strategic marketing strategies but lost her train of thought when the other woman walked by, who was probably in her early 30s and wearing skinny black pants – possibly jeans – that, if I hadn’t been second-guessing my push-up bra and sweetheart necklined dress that day, I would have thought were slightly inappropriate for our conservative office.

Skinny Pants apologized for interrupting, and Boss Lady excused her, saying “Oh, it’s not your fault. I was just thinking how it’s just not fair how some people get to be so skinny! Like you, and you!” She accusingly pointed at Skinny Pants and another waifish woman in the room. Disturbingly, I was a little insulted she didn’t point at me. Maybe it was the cleavage.

Slightly less disturbing than my reaction, and that the comment was made at all, was that Boss Lady appeared to be in excellent shape, and Skinny Pants was, in my opinion, verging on dangerously thin. When she had walked by the front of the room, I was actually noticing her wispy hair and wondering if she might have an eating disorder.

So at least two professional women in the room were more interested in Skinny Pants’ body than discussing strategic strategies – in my case I’ll blame it on the fact that my job bores me to tears (some days literally), but I’m worried about Boss Lady. Her outburst was followed by an uncomfortable silence – and a loss of authority.

And I’m pretty sure she was just saying out loud what many women are constantly obsessing over internally when they could be thinking about strategery, or reproductive rights, or world peace – something other than the unsolvable problem of their inner thighs touching.

To quote Caitlin Moran’s How to Be a Woman, which has recently inspired me to stop being such a crappy feminist (Thank you to my feminist role model/sister for recommending!), “You can tell whether some misogynistic societal pressure is being exerted on women by calmly enquiring, ‘And are the men doing this, as well?’ If they aren’t, chances are you’re dealing with what we strident feminists refer to as ‘some total fucking bullshit’.”

Fashion that makes me feel old and confused.

I've never really understood fashion, but this summer has been particularly befuddling to me. It seems that anything goes as long as it's an unflattering throwback to an era anyone over the age of 22 wants to forget.  

I don't even think celebrities look good in jean shorts.

Or mannequins.

So why the average McDonalds-guzzling American thinks they can pull them off I'll never understand.

Along with high-wasted jean shorts/underpants, crop tops have been dusted off.

And when it cools down at night, or to give your camel toe a break, those crop tops can also be paired with palazzo pants!

Don't forget your silly headband.

And you're all set to take totally cute selfies at Lollapalooza!

Two-piece solution to the bikini debate

Gwyneth Paltrow's kid bikinis have reignited a debate that has apparently been going on for years, according to my extensive (okay half-hour) Internet research, but I think a little vocabulary lesson should clear this right up.

According to Wikipedia, the word "bikini" was coined by its inventor, Louis Réard, who was competing with  a rival designer to create "the world's smallest swimsuit." He named it after Bikini Atoll, where testing on the atomic bomb took place, because he believed "the suit's revealing style would create a stir among people similar to America's atomic bombing of Japan the previous summer." (Um, weird... but it sure is still creating stirs!) The garment he created resembled women's underwear, and he could not find a model daring enough to wear his design, so he had to hire a nude dancer to model it.

And according to Merriam-Webster, a bikini is "a woman's scanty two-piece bathing suit." (I will ignore the second definition - a man's brief swimsuit - for the sake of my argument, and because America has agreed we're against those.) The definition of "scanty," FYI, is "limited or less than sufficient in degree, quantity, or extent."

So, what we've learned here is that by etymology and current definition, "bikini" denotes sexy, and "kid bikini" connotes creepiness.

What is okay, however, and where the debate gets muddled, is two piece swimsuits for girls. The difference? More coverage and less allusion to lingerie and cleavage. Following this logic, judgment of recent controversies becomes rather simple:

Apparently people were up in arms about this picture of Suri Cruise... there are plenty of creepy things about her parents, but dressing her in this two-piece is not one of them.

These swimsuits marketed by Elizabeth Hurley, however, are most definitely creepy. I even feel creepy posting them... and don't even get me started on the leopard print.

I actually don't mind Gwyneth's as much, but again, I just find the words "kid" and "bikini" being used together inappropriate, and there's something about the way the models are posed in the first picture that gives me the uneasies.

Which brings us to our worst offender: Jessica Simpson apparently Tweeted and shared on national television this photo of her daughter in a questionable swimsuit and obviously contrived pose. It's one thing to take a goofy picture of your kid in order to torture her with it later, perhaps in a wedding slide show, but it's quite another to share a questionable picture like this with the world, which is, unfortunately, full of sickos.

So there you have it. I'm sorry Gwyneth, but for the sake of ending this debate and curbing creepiness, "kid bikinis," no matter how relatively tame, need to go out of style. For good.


Photo credits:
http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/04/24/the-misplaced-outrage-over-gwyneth-paltrow-s-bikinis-for-little-girls.html
http://www.babble.com/celebrity/is-suri-cruise-too-young-to-be-wearing-a-bikini/
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/09/17/elizabeth-hurleys-bikini-kids_n_1890428.html
http://www.goop.com/shop/melissa-odabash-exclusive-kids-new-york-bikini-set.html
http://www.usmagazine.com/celebrity-moms/news/lol-jessica-simpson-shares-baby-maxwells-first-bikini-pic-2012109

If Rossen Had Reported: Are Your Lululemons Revealing Too Much?

A warning about your yoga pants: A new study shows that your $100 Lululemons may not be buying you 100 percent coverage. 

That new study out Wednesday morning shows an alarming increase in the number of down dogs becoming obscene, nearly bare asses being revealed by shoddily made, yet insanely priced workout-wear.

You assume these yoga pants are going to keep your thongs from being indecently exposed. After all, you paid a good chunk of your husband’s hard-earned cash for those things. You may think: “Everyone says they’re so flattering! So how could they be making me look like such as asshole?” 

Even on the hottest yogis, it can be a frightening site. 

Sunshine Smith is president and CEO of the watchdog group Safe Yoga, and says these Lululemon pants may be part of a bigger problem. A new report just out shows a stunning 95 percent of yoga students are now clothed in head-to-toe Lululemon – that’s a 50 percent spike since the holiday season alone.

“It is definitely cause for concern,” Smith told us. “Today’s yoga students – and even some of the teachers – seem to be more concerned with their outer appearance than inner bliss.”

To test this theory, we observed a typical yoga class in the Lincoln Park neighborhood of Chicago, Ill. After the class filled up (and we mean full – there was barely a centimeter between each mat) we found that the number of Lululemon-clad students did, in fact, roughly match the ratio stated by Safe Yoga. In fact, 31 of the 40 students appeared to be wearing the exact same pants. 

Within five minutes, the class was instructed to sit back into their first child’s pose. And what we saw was horrifying. 

When we pointed out one woman’s exposed cheeks to her in the mirror, she was shocked. “Noone told me about this ‘bend-over test’ when I bought my Lululemons. I just tried them on in the store, saw that I looked totally cute, and bought them.” 

What you may not know is that there is no federal law indicating how sheer yoga pants can be. “Should there be more specific quality regulations?” we asked Smith of Safe Yoga.

“I think Lululemon in general should be outlawed,” Smith said.

But for millions of mid-to-upper class white women, that’s not an ideal solution. If they want to keep looking super skinny and cute in their yoga-wear, whether while actually practicing yoga or picking up a tub of organic baby spinach at Whole Foods, experts say they should employ the aforementioned “bend-over” or “squat” test before purchasing Lululemon pants, or wear longer yoga tops over them – adorable tanks are available at Lululemon for only $64. 

Have an idea for Rossen Reports? Contact us! 

Photo credit: www.today.com. P.S. Jeff Rossen I heart you.

5 things you should know before auditioning for the Bachelor

Thanks to the power of Tivo and the Bachelor double feature this week, I watched four hours of heartbreaks and breakdowns, sans commercial breaks (so... actually it was about 45 minutes) last night. So I'm feeling pretty qualified to consult prospective bachelorettes. Obviously this service is needed because, although many of these women openly talk about having watched the show, they appear to be blindsided by everything they encounter on their "journeys," even though the only thing  that has changed from season to season is the number of rose ceremonies survived by minorities.

So before you try to find love in a hopeless place, please take the following into account:

• You will be dating a guy who has a number of other girlfriends.
• You will be living in a house with said girlfriends.
• If you tattle on one of these girlfriends for being "two-faced" or "fake," you will go home shortly after that conversation.
• There is a 90 percent chance you will have to face your fear of heights and a 10 percent chance you will have to face your fear of sharks.
• You do not hate drama. Stop saying that! You would not even be considering putting your demented love life on blast if you didn't love drama.

Photo credit: http://www.eonline.com/news/381898/the-bachelor-sneak-peek-watch-tierra-threaten-to-leave-but-is-it-all-an-act

Business time

Do real-life women actually lounge around in men's dress shirts? And if so, is it actually sexy? I have to admit I've never tried it, but I do own a couple sets of flannel button-down pajamas, and my husband is not so much a fan of those.

On TV women are always sashaying out of the bedroom with smug looks on their faces, like they just KNOW how adorably sexy they look. This is the first red flag for me. It's been my personal experience that whenever I think I look adorably sexy, I actually look atrocious. This is why I now avoid bar bathroom mirrors at all costs.

My second issue is that business casual garb does not put me in a sexy mood. Quite the opposite, it puts me in a depressive mood, as it conjures up visions of TPS reports and lines of drones waiting to heat up smelly Lean Cuisines in the communal microwave. If pocket protectors and security badges aren't considered sexy, I don't understand why the shirts that hold them are.

Perhaps before this look became a cliche, it was sexy because it wasn't sexy. But at this point it somehow comes across as both lazy and trying too hard... If you're looking to switch it up, I suggest a birthday suit and business socks.

Gone with the wind and fabulously insane

The Real Housewives are at it again: Another talk-singing catastrophe was introduced on Watch What Happens Live last Sunday:



A small, tiny part of me kinda, sorta respects Kenya for trying to "own" this humiliating moment from a particularly painful episode of Real Housewives of Atlanta:



But when you fall on your face in the middle of a busy street, don't you "own" it by popping up and laughing it off? You don't keep tripping over yourself and pretending you're having an awesome time... and you don't make up a song about it, especially if you can't sing... right??

Either way, I'm horrified, yet entertained by Kenya's "Gone with the wind fabulous" single, which probably means she's a housewife that's here to stay.

The scratch 'n roll snore stopping marriage saver

Instead of counting sheep last night while my husband snored away, I counted the ways I've failed at trying to get him to stop.

1. Plugging his nose
   He woke up angrily and thought I was trying to kill him.
2. Shoving him and yelling, "Stop snoring!"
   He woke up angrily and thought I was abusing him.
3. Cooing softly, "You're snoring. Can you please turn over on your side?"
   He woke up with a huff and claimed he hadn't even been asleep. (ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?)
4. Tossing and turning violently in an angry attempt to wake him up "accidentally"
   He continued to sleep/snore obliviously.
5. Wearing ear plugs
   He continued to snore, and I continued to hear it, although with the added irritation of uncomfortable pieces of foam in my ears.
6. Suggesting he participate in a sleep study
   No. 

Then I remembered Ross' hug 'n roll, and I decided to put a spin on it and give it a try. Under the guise of scratching my husband's back, I rolled him on his side, and he... sighed appreciatively! He stopped snoring, stayed sleeping, and I joined him... a few hours later. I guess I can't blame him for all my problems. 

More fun with office email: WFH edition

One of the (lowly) perks of my job is the option to work from home, and a good chunk of my colleagues work from home offices every day. Yet my co-workers in the Chicago office feel the need to justify why they're working from home every freaking time they take advantage of this benefit, which is usually multiple times a week, from multiple people. Because totally harmless, random things tend to irrationally infuriate me, I CANNOT STAND these possibly BS, totally unnecessary excuses. I'm no one's boss, or mother, and I don't care.

On principle I have refused to provide reasons when I notify them that I'm working from home. My personal business is no business of theirs; plus I prefer oversharing via social media or too many cocktails to Outlook email. But in an attempt to prolong the slow death by boredom I'm experiencing in Corporate America, I've decided to spice up my "WFH" messages. Here are a few I'm considering putting in rotation:

• I'm working from home today because the dog ate my homework.
• I'm working from home today because I have uncontrollable shits.
• I'm working from home today because the thought of making small talk in the office kitchen makes me want to stab myself in the eye. 
• I'm working from home today because I have a job interview. Wish me luck!
• I'm working in pajamas today, and I assume you'd prefer I do that from home.
• It's cold out, so I'm working from home.
• I had an emergency session with my therapist this morning, so I'm working from home for the rest of the day.
• I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, so I'm working from home. Case of the Mondays :(
• I'm going to see my lady doctor this afternoon, so I'm working from home. Yearly pap smear :)
• I have a gyno appointment tomorrow morning, so I'm going to work the rest of the day from home. Suspicious discharge :-/
• There's something seriously wrong with my vagina. I'll be working from home until further notice.
• I'm working from home today because there's a 12pm yoga class I want to go to. (Actually true on most Fridays)
• If you're reading this, then you already know. I'm working from home... BECAUSE I CAN. (Always true)

Alarming news about alarms

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

First of all, I love me some Jeff Rossen. Just when I think I can't be any more outraged, he gives me something else to be outraged about. My favorite segments, though, are ones in which he legitimizes and fuels existing rage.

I was just ranting about smoke detectors at my book club last week (what else would you talk about at book club?), complaining that they are way too sensitive, actually desensitizing us to alarms and forcing (some of) us to do unsafe things like take the batteries out to prevent the alarm from going off every time we turn the oven on. Or dismantling it when that, inexplicably, doesn't stop the incessant beeping. 

So my ears perked up when I heard my friend Jeff say on the Today Show this morning, "We've all been there. You burn toast in your house and suddenly your smoke alarm goes off, so you assume it's ultra sensitive, but experts say think again." YES I have been there! WHAT?? Tell me more!

It turns out the most common type of smoke detectors -- those using ionization technology -- aren't so great at detecting smoke from burning furniture, as opposed to smoke from burning food, which they seem to be a little too good at.

Rossen goes on to tell the heartbreaking story of a woman who lost four of her children to smoke inhalation because her ionization alarms -- the kind used in 90% of homes -- never went off.

When tested, three ionization alarms take over half an hour to go off in a room that is filled with toxic smoke. Apparently ionization alarms can detect fires with fast flames (and are awesome at detecting burnt toast!), but experts say some of the most deadly fires start slower.

But Rossen finds us an alternative! A second test reveals that an alarm using photoelectric technology goes off in 17 minutes, when there is barely any smoke in the room. Although photoelectric technology has been around for a while, those alarms are more expensive to produce, and the cheaper ionization alarms meet government safety regulations.

How can that be?? Of course we can count on Rossen to go straight to the source. Unfortunately, it's evident from his awkward interview with a senior engineer at the Consumer Product Safety Commission, which could very well be mistaken for a Daily Show skit, that the government agency that's supposed to rectify Corporate America's faulty conscience actually doesn't give a crap.

Well thank goodness for the Today Show and Jeff Rossen, right?! If he wasn't so riveting I may have actually left for work on time and missed his closing advice to install both types of alarms (was hoping I'd get to go Office Space on my ionization alarm), or splurge on a "dual detector" that employs both technologies. Let's just hope the pricier models at least know the difference between a fire and a dirty oven, or I'm asking my friend for a follow-up investigation.

Friendly or annoying? I'll be the judge.

"Buffalo, New York, is one of the rudest places in America and residents of New York City are far friendlier than folks in the Midwest and the South," according to one of the silliest articles I've ever read. MailOnline recently reported that a company called Vertaline conducted a "study" that tracked tweets containing the phrases "good morning" and "f*** you" across 462 cities.

 "Nice" cities

"Naughty" cities

The results don't confuse me as much as the study itself. If they were looking for the city that's home to the most annoying, boring, self-indulgent Twitter addicts, I suppose "good morning" would be a good phrase to track. Although I'm not actually on Twitter, so maybe I'm wrong. Maybe their followers enjoy reading inane tweets and appreciate being reminded of when people are waking up in various time zones.

Come to think of it, I don't much like people saying "good morning" to me offline, either. If it's a colleague in the office kitchen, I fear being roped into small talk about her weekend putting together a jigsaw puzzle. And if it's a strange man on the street who also tells me to smile, I have to resist the urge to respond with "f*** you" -- because that is decidedly rude, especially in (even in?) the Midwest.

Photo source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2191250/Twitter-heat-map-tracks-polite-rudest-cities.html

The Olympic Mullet

I've been ranting about the messy hair epidemic that's plaguing women's gymnastics since the Olympic trials. (Although it's my favorite sport, I must admit I only really follow it every four years.) I hoped that with the fall of Nastia, the worst offender, the hairstyle would quickly go out of fashion before the real games began, but it seems the opposite happened. The sloppy trend has now spread to the heads of the majority of the U.S. women's team.

It's very confusing to me that these girls whose lives revolve around achieving perfection allow their hair to look so half-assed. Literally. It's a half ponytail that hasn't been pulled through to completion, flopping around slovenly, encouraging rebel layers to break free of color-coordinated scrunchies.

Or perhaps the hairstyle is akin to the "just rolled out of bed" or "beach hair" looks that actually require significant prep time. I wouldn't be surprised to catch the gymnasts staring at the mirror intently, pulling a few symmetrical strands through to create a very deliberate effect before the whole appalling 'do is sprayed down with industrial-strength hair glue.

But why?? I have to find a reason in order to get past how much I hate the lazy look and root for my country. So here's my explanation, and it's actually quite patriotic: It's the Olympic mullet -- athlete in the front, party in the back. It evokes great American traditions like NASCAR, fannypacks, arrogance -- and dominating the Olympics.


Photo credit: http://www.ledger-enquirer.com/2012/07/29/2137693/us-womens-gymnasts-to-start-on.html

Train game

After sitting in a cubicle all day, naturally, all I want to do is sit some more on the train home. And with where my office is located on the Purple Line, that's actually a possibility -- if I am lucky enough to be standing directly in front of a door when the train stops. When this happens I'm taken back to my favorite game in Super Mario Brothers 3, and I feel like a winner!

 But more often than not I end up in this scenario:

My head follows the door I've been eying longingly as it slowly passes me by, and after the train jerks to a stop, a quick glance back to the left confirms that I am smack dab in the middle of two doors and SOL. For a few seconds I anxiously shift from one foot to the other while I try to gauge which door has less of a crowd in front of it. This gets even more awkward if I'm with my husband, as we without fail always head for different doors and then turn back irritably when we realize the other is not following, losing precious time, not to mention our newlywed glow.

As annoying as that is, though, the worst is when I end up directly behind a polite commuter who lets everyone and their mother board before US (well, not really mothers -- I suppose they should get priority seating). Are you really being courteous when you're inconveniencing the lady behind you who very well may lose her will to live if she doesn't get to sit down and relax with her large library book for 20 minutes after a hard day's work of trading passive aggressive emails?? Or perhaps these commuters aren't really being polite -- maybe they're just slow. Do they not want to snag a seat themselves? Are they not in a hurry to escape the work day?? I don't get it.

I for one just want to get where I'm going as quickly and as comfortably as possible...perhaps I should get one of these:

Photo credits:

http://www.consoleclassix.com/nes/super_mario_bros_3.html
ml
http://www.matwolf.com/SMB3/Images.htm
http://mario.wikia.com/wiki/File:PeachSuperCircuit.png

Losing it

Before I got engaged, I never understood the whole losing weight for your wedding thing. It seemed to me that wedding dresses were the most flattering thing a woman could wear, especially in my case because a long gown would hide the hobbit-like lower half I've never been a fan of.

But then my fiance started lobbying for a destination wedding, and my level head started to wander. It wasn't the dress, necessarily, that I was worried about looking good in (although I ended up going with a mermaid style just to further torture myself). It was the thought of spending a week in a bikini with 80 of our family members, friends... and their 20-year-old girlfriends that undid my Women's Studies education and feminist body image.

And so when I got on board with the destination wedding idea, I gave myself an excuse to start descending what I knew was a slippery slope. While I did try to eat healthier, my love of food saved me from going overboard on any kind of crazy diet. What I may have gone overboard on, however, was exercise.

I bumped my workouts up from a class or run 3-5 times a week to multiple classes or a run/class combo 6-7 days a week. I obsessively consulted my gym's fitness schedule to plan my week, got irrationally irritated when something came up that interfered with a class I wanted to take and almost had a nervous breakdown when their power went out for a few days (perhaps an extreme reaction, but days without power? A little ridiculous). At one point I was supplementing my gym membership with class packages at two different fitness studios.

Ironically, while looking for healthy recipes and new workouts in Women's Health, I came across an article on "New Eating Disorders" that included a description of "anorexia athletica." Signs of the disorder include: working out religiously (check); gym time interfering with your job or relationships (check); and feeling tremendous anxiety or guilt when you skip a workout (guilty). But to be honest, I think there are worse things to be addicted to than exercise... It wasn't the article that brought me to my senses.

While I was happy with the progress the scale showed, the mirror was more complicated. What I saw was a slightly smaller, definitely more muscular version of myself, legs still more hobbit than super model. My thighs seemed virtually unchanged, but my boobs had abandoned me, which I, and my new husband, were rather fond of... Something he wasn't fond of? My six-pack (although I thought it was kind of bad-ass). He actually found my new muscles slightly creepy and missed the softer, somewhat saner girlfriend of years past. Turns out the woman he wanted to marry was exactly who I was without trying.

Although the hours and hours I spent in the gym could have been spent doing other things -- like planning my wedding, or keeping up with my blog... I learned some important lessons. Extreme exercising will never fundamentally change my shape. And that's okay. I'm pretty lucky to have the body I'm stuck with, and even luckier to have the man I chose to be stuck with.

How to break up with somebody you wish you used to know

I love Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know," but I think he is mistaken about the heartlessness of his ex(es). In fact, the song could be a tutorial on how to successfully break up with someone as painlessly as possible.

But you didn't have to cut me off (You do. It's for his own good.)
Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing (Get out of your pajama pants and move on.)
And I don't even need your love (That's the spirit!)
But you treat me like a stranger and I feel so rough (Avoid relapsing.)
And you didn't have to stoop so low
Have your friends collect your records and then change your number (Might be going a little too far, but perhaps necessary if dealing with a stalker.)
I guess that I don't need that though (Correct! Number should have already been deleted.)
Now you're just somebody that I used to know (Mission move on accomplished.)

Isn't somebody that you used to know better than a girl who may or may not be your ex, who still texts you at 3 a.m., borrows your car (something I may or may not have done to someone I used to know...) and messes up any chance you have of having a healthy relationship with someone else? Isn't being cut off better than being strung along?

Apparently the song refers to a composite of past relationships, which makes sense because no mere mortal can have the self-restraining power to execute such a clean break. But that doesn't stop me from respecting the fictitious ex-girlfriend for her efficient, lukewarm heart, and for inspiring an awesome song.

Bachelor blues

I spent last night yelling at the TV more than usual. Either my taste level is rising (unlikely) or The Bachelor is sinking even further into the filth. And this goes beyond the fact that Ben is a dufus and Courtney is evil. Confusion over the allure of the bachelor and irrational hatred for one or more of the contestants are givens. These irritations are really testing my devotion to ABC's reality:

• Courtney never stops touching her hair, and her weird mouth, and everything she says is ridiculous and cliched and annoying. Lindzi (is that seriously how she spells her name??) always leans her head forward when she talks, like everything she says is a secret, or someone told her that's a flattering camera angle. Poor Emily scrunched her nose incessantly. Why are they casting such annoying people?? If the point is to distract viewers from how awful the show is, it's doing the opposite.
  

• Every date is a metaphor! Jumping out of a helicopter is like falling in love; overcoming your fear of helicopters is like overcoming your fear of being vulnerable in love; taking a chance on a helicopter ride is like taking a chance on love! WE GET IT.
  

• And then there's the awkward advertising tie-ins. When Ben said skiing in San Fran had always been on his "leap list" in Episode 3, my first thought was, "That's dumb," and my second thought was, "and isn't it called a 'bucket list?' Dummy." But no, I learned there is such a thing as a "leap list" during the following commercial break. Honda invented it. And then last night the former bachelorettes got all dressed up in skin-tight dresses to watch Titanic in an empty theater, fresh makeovers hidden behind hideous 3D glasses. A commercial for the 3D re-release and the upcoming Bachelorette season - two for one disguised as television programming!

And the show makes me hate myself most of all because I can't. Stop. Watching. Evil, evil genius.

Photo credit: http://abc.go.com/shows/the-bachelor/photo-details/episode-3/911487/914981

Friendly reminders make me unfriendly

I need to rant about the "friendly reminders" I receive via work email on a daily basis. First, the phrase is an oxymoron. There is no such thing as a "friendly" reminder. A reminder to a co-worker is inherently unfriendly. It means you have no faith in someone to complete a task by the given due date, that you feel the need to nag her as if she's a lazy husband who never remembers to take out the garbage or a child who never wants to brush her teeth.

Which leads me to the second reason I can't stand friendly reminders. Believe it or not, I actually get my work done on time. In fact, I pride myself on dazzling people with my efficiency, and feel deflated --> insulted --> enraged if someone thinks they need to send reminders. If on the rare occasion I can't meet a deadline, I never fail to communicate why and when I will have the work done: