Not sorry to see you go

While most unsubscribe links lead to "We're sorry to see you go!" messaging and perhaps a short survey asking what turned you off, an e-newsletter I recently unsubscribed from took a different approach.

The whole experience reminded me of a phone conversation I had back in the days before Internet with a seventh-grade boyfriend. Before I had even finished my prepared explanation of why I wanted to end our nine-day relationship, he hastily interrupted and dumped ME. I was flabbergasted. When friends asked me what happened at school the next day, I wasn't sure who had broken up with whom. (A very important distinction in the seventh grade!)

That sneaky kid ... he ended up being sent to military school the next year for selling drugs out of his locker, but that's another story.

Back to unsubscribing - this was the landing page I first encountered:

After clicking the seemingly apathetic yet angrily red "SEE YA" button, I was presented with this page:

If I come around and realize my huge mistake, they'll take me back?! Well, this was certainly something different. But like a drug-dealing tween, it might have caught my eye, but I'm not sure I want to engage in another dysfunctional relationship.

Desperate shopwives

Watching all of the holiday shopping commercials, it occurred to me that a new kind of icon has replaced the 1950s housewife.

The home backdrop has been replaced with discount stores, and the glazed-over eyes and frozen smile have been replaced with frenzied determination and unapologetic cockiness.

A funny kind of crazy has replaced a creepy kind of crazy.




It seems we can now exhibit masculine energy, but apply it to feminine tasks - which is apparently pretty hilarious - crazy women taking their silly lives so seriously.

Happy birthday, I guess.

Yesterday was my birthday ... and while I admittedly enjoy pretty much any kind of attention, I couldn't help but be a bit disheartened by the number of flat "happy birthdays" I received via electronic communications.

I understand how annoying the obligatory "happy birthday" can be, and Facebook's new prompts only make you feel more guilty for not writing on the walls of every one of your 400 "friends" when you're alerted of the anniversary of their birth.

But you do have a choice: ignore the birthday alert or commit to the post by writing on the birthday girl's wall with some enthusiasm, for chrissakes. At least muster up an exclamation point or two after "happy birthday," or personalize it a bit with "happy birthday, Amy!" It's only three extra letters, people. The "happy birthdays" with no punctuation, or worse, a period, sort of put a damper on my special day. And even though I normally enjoy acronyms, "HBD" is just lazy.

A few hours into the work day, a colleague who must create Outlook alerts for everyone's birthdays sent an email out letting everyone know it was my birthday, and I started noticing the same grumpy grammar in responses from the rest of my team. I was equally annoyed by the obligatory thank yous I had to write back, but at least I faked it with smiley face emoticons :)

Then again, I also received a rather creepy e-card from a co-worker I've never met in person that featured a picture of me he somehow copied and pasted from Facebook in the middle of several birthday graphics and messages ... apparently it is possible to say "happy birthday" with too much enthusiasm. (His friend request is still pending.)

"Girls rock" is SO last season

First Forever 21 and J.C. Penney came out with shirts for girls that said "Allergic to Algebra" and "I'm too pretty to do homework so my brother has to do it for me" (sexist, terribly written AND hideous!).



And now Gymboree is selling "Smart like Dad" and "Pretty like Mommy" onesies. Apparently a "Smart like Mommy" variation doesn't exist.


What's next? Maternity tops that proclaim across the belly, "Here's hoping she's dumb and beautiful!"? Adorable!


JC Penney and Forever 21 pulled their shirts when customers voiced their outrage. Sign this petition to tell Gymboree they're perpetuating damaging gender stereotypes.


Photo credits:
http://act.credoaction.com/campaign/sexist_shirts/?r=231259&id=27202-2415163-OdD0YBx
http://sparkamovement.tumblr.com/post/12568193592/whenrobotsreproduce-a-friend-of-mine-posted-a

Kim's fairy tale divorce

It's shocking to me that people are shocked that Kim Kardashian filed for divorce after 72 days of marriage. Aside from the obvious red flags of her lightning-speed engagement and neanderthal husband's awful personality, two words sealed the divorce deal: "fairy tale." (I - and Merriam-Webster - think it's two words, E!)

Kim's wedding special on E! was called Kim's Fairytale Wedding. Kim wrote on her blog today, "It just didn't turn out to be the fairy tale I had so badly hoped for." Why does everyone on reality TV think they're signing up for a reality fairy tale, when in fact they're signing up for pretty much the opposite - public humiliation and disastrous relationships?

Let this be a lesson to prospective Bachelor contestants - I'm not sure I can sit through another season of bachelorette after desperate bachelorette's juvenile monologues about happily ever after and Prince Charming. Remember Santa? How he wasn't real? Fairy tales are kinda like that, except it turns out your mom can't even keep up the charade - not even if she's Kris Jenner.

Photo credit: http://getglue.com/stickers/e/kims_fairytale_wedding_a_kardashian_event_part_2

Feminist edit

A screenshot from today's nytimesonline.com article, "I.B.M. Names Virginia Rometty as New Chief Executive":


I guess old habits do die hard.

Take your teddy to work?

Yesterday in honor of Columbus Day, Gawker.com posted "The 10 Stupidest American Holidays." I agreed with most of them until I learned that today is Take Your Teddy Bear to Work Day.

Yup, I had to Google it to believe it too... apparently it's a fun way to de-stress. My friend told me her office is celebrating it, but I haven't seen any stuffed bears around here. Probably because 'ole Teddy reminds us of childhood dreams circling the drain... We much prefer crying quietly into vodka bottles under our cubes.


Photo credit: http://www.dearteddybear.com/index.php/teddybear/Bears_for_Him