Personal garments and the semi-single girl

The other day I was talking to a girlfriend at work about the usual stuff a person discusses at work: underwear and personal grooming. We discovered that we both have similar sad trombone thoughts along the lines of “no one will be noticing so why bother?”

Cue the Eeyore theme music.

I immediately messaged Chelle and made sure she knows that she needs to take me to the vet and have me put down if I stop shaving my legs. Yeah, yeah, you all-natural hippy chick types can stop shaving if you want. You can be as down with the Goddess and female empowerment as y’all want. You can wear diva cups and howl at the moon during a menstrual drum circle if it makes you happy. I applaud your awesome naturalness, but I want certain of my body parts to be relatively smooth. If I stop shaving my legs, that is a sign that I might as well lay down somewhere like a sick beast and let myself die in the woods like a lovesick girl Sasquatch.

I am not being overly dramatic. I am using exaggeration to make a point. Nuance. Hush up.

I am also not willing to engage in a spirited discussion about why shaving any of my body parts is submitting to the Man. They are MY body parts, and no one gets to decide if they are smooth or hairy except me.

Plus I have already talked a lot about pubic hair recently in the blog. I don’t want people to get tired of the subject.

Plus? Submitting? Not all bad.
A little off topic though.

Where was I? Oh, yes–underwear.

The other part of the discussion was about cute underwear and bras. A subject dear to all of our hearts, yes? I wonder if men have any idea how expensive it is to clothe the breasts that they are so fond of? If you are on a pre-divorce budget, a good bra is not something you can just buy on a whim. Sad. Then again, it’s not like anyone will see them, so does it matter?

Yes. Yes, it does. I see them.

I don’t care how much the sad trombone blows. I am not going to wear tattered underpinnings. I am not. Even if no one sees them, I am too vain. Plus, bad bras make my boobs sad. I don’t need sad boobs. I don’t.

So I guess I know what I will be buying with my bonus: new bras, a fancy leg shaving device and some Crystal Head vodka.

Not necessities, you say?

Perhaps not, but skulls make me happy. Smooth legs make me feel like I might have a tiny bit of sex appeal left. New bras uplift my mood almost as much as my breasts.

And I don’t care if you think it is weird, or if you would spend your money in a different way.

If you argue about it, I will throw in a new pair of red shoes and a $60 candle.

Don’t make me do anything drastic.







The lighter side of blood and gore…lighter side?

My intention was to keep it light today.
Something funny.
Something airy.
Something about television.

So, how do you keep it light, funny and airy when your two favorite shows are about love and death? Heavy on the death. Gruesome death. Somehow, though, True Blood still manages to keep it funny in spite of the gore.

I was going to write something cute about it, but now I can’t do it. True Blood is trying to break my heart in its final season. I may have to break up with it.

They have just killed my favorite character. One of my other favorites has a presumably fatal illness.

True Blood is on a rampage.

It is bad enough when Game of Thrones does it. I read the books. I know it’s coming, and you know what? I don’t really give a shit about most of the characters. There’s no humor in GoT. It is heavy and violent, and there is no redemption for anyone at this point. Maybe there will be some later in the book series, but at this point even the children are vicious killers.

But True Blood?

Some of the characters are literally warm and fuzzy. They throw off clever one-liners while they are eating people or getting eaten. Even the vampires are capable of love and devotion. Yeah, sure, also betrayal, but when someone looks like Alexander Skarsgard, you don’t mind a little betrayal now and then. Especially if the betrayal happens while he is nude. They have a lot of nude betrayals on True Blood. It’s one of the best things about the show.

The nudity, not the betrayals. There are not a lot of shows that embrace male nudity like True Blood does, and I salute them for it. The male nudity, the sexual flexibility of many of the characters. The sheer quirkiness of it all.

Tonight they went too far.

I am mad at you, True Blood. I think I want my ring back.

You’re fucking with my TV eye candy, and I just don’t need that right now.







Suicide is painless..

There are many who dare not kill themselves for fear of what the neighbors will say.
–Cyril Connolly

First off, I feel like I have to say that although I have known several people who have committed suicide, I don’t have anyone really close to me who has. So if this is a subject that is sensitive to you, I am sorry if it brings up feelings that are hard for you. This might be a blog you want to skip.

Why do I even want to write about it? I’m not suicidal. I have been, though. Oh, maybe not dangerously so. Maybe not imminently so. But there have been times where I have wanted very much to not be alive anymore.

Here is the thing, though: when you are depressed, you honestly believe that it would be better for everyone if you were dead. You believe that the people who love you would be better off. You really do. Fortunately, I was not so ill that my brain believed it enough to carry it out. A part of my brain still understood the pain it would cause my family. A lot of people are not as lucky.

Maybe I was braver than people who go through with it. Maybe I was less courageous for not doing it. It depends on your point of view.

What it did change forever is how I think about people who kill themselves.

In our world, we tend to see it as a selfish act. In some ways, it is. A depressed person is entirely self centered. But. It is a hard thing to explain to someone who has never been depressed, but in a lot of cases, you aren’t only thinking about ending your own pain. You are thinking that getting rid of the burden of your pain on other people would be good for them.

It is hard to explain how messed up your thought processes are to someone who has not experienced it.

Oh, and if anyone is worried–I am not currently even remotely suicidal.

I guess my point, if I have one at all, is that even though a suicide leaves behind a horrible emotional disaster, the person probably didn’t realize that would be the case. I’m not sure suicide says anything about a person except that they were in pain and only death seemed like it would end it.

In theory, I can even support that. The state of psychiatric care being what it is–lousy–a lot of people seek help which doesn’t, well, help. So then they have medical bills in addition to a desire to end their own life.

A suicide is so ill that the only thing they see anymore is the end of their sadness. They don’t see the devastating results their death will have on their friends and families. It’s hard for me to think of that as selfish, or cowardly. I think it must be the loneliest thing you can feel.

I hope in the end they have some peace, and that their families and friends can, too.