Drawing the line between prostitution and charity

Last week, Charlize Theron sold a passionate, 7-second kiss for $140,000 to raise money at a live charity auction for OneXOne in San Francisco.

A couple days a go, a "die hard Phillies fan" was arrested and charged with prostitution. 

Theron, who sold her kiss to a woman, and as the steamy coverage would suggest, definitely stepped up to the plate (it's a baseball pun, get it?), was commended by the media, even Fox News pundit Bill O'Reilly.

Our hardball hooker Susan Finkelstein, on the other hand, became sort of a laughing stock among talk show hosts and news reporters.

The differences between the two are obvious. Theron did it for charity in a safe, public place. There were also no genitals involved (though one of the two could've probably copped a feel pretty easily).

What Finkelstein did was selfish and put herself, and potentially the sex-starved ticket-holder, in danger (you gotta assume a middle-aged woman trading sex over the internet probably contracted an STD or two at some point in her life).

I don't think Theron did anything wrong. In fact, I can't say I wouldn't smooch a lesbian for $140,000 for charity (or for me...). 

As far as Finkelstein is concerned, I definitely wouldn't sleep with anyone for money or tickets or whatever, but if she's dumb enough to put herself in that position, I guess I don't really have a problem with it. I think the police have better things to do. Even patrolling real hookers on street corners would be a better use of their time than surfing for internet crazies.

But in the end, they are both exchanging some physical manifestation of sexuality for monetary value. It's just a little confusing. When is it ok? Where's the line? Would it have been different if a man had bought the kiss? I think it's very possible the whole situation would've been looked at as sketchy rather than selfless if that were the case.

Is it ok when it's just a kiss? What if it's just a kiss alone in the bedroom? What if Theron had offered a kiss and a squeeze in one of the three primal areas?

It's just confusing, is all. Not that it really applies to most people's day-to-day life, but it's something to think about. Is kissing a whole different category, or was Theron and exception to the rule?

Fictional Female Fridays: Barbie

Unlike most Fictional Female Fridays, I didn't choose Barbie so I could shower her with praise. Actually, I have somewhat of a bone to pick with Barbie (as does Ken, I'm sure...that's what she said...).

I read an article on CNN this morning about the controversy behind the release of the new black Barbies. According to the article, some are happy with Mattel's recognition that leggy blondes aren't the sole occupiers of the world while others are upset that the black Barbies still have largely caucasian features, such as light brown, straight hair.

In the CNN article, an African-American iReporter says that she doesn't mind Barbie's straight hair because she straightens her hair every day, and that's a part of who she is. The black Barbie's black creator, Stacy McBride-Irby, is also pictured in the article with straightened hair.

Well that's great, except straight hair is one of the many features curly-haired women pursue to fit the caucasian beauty ideal which is promoted by almost all of the commercial elements of our society. Mattel is not only a part of this, but probably guiltier than almost everyone else except maybe Hollywood.

The thing is they still embody everything that is wrong with the original dolls. They're disproportionately slim and all bear a striking resemblance to Beyonce Knowles (not that the originals do--they're more like Heidi Klum). 

To me, the black Barbie dolls are really just a way of saying, ok, we told you what white women should look like, here's what black women should look like (basically the white woman that only like 1 percent of the white population resembles but with darker skin). Beyond the racist undertones, it's just sort of mean to all women regardless of race.

I read somewhere once, probably on one of those e-mail chains, that if Barbie were expanded in her original proportions to the height of an average woman, she would topple over because her breasts are too large and her waist too small.

I don't know if this is true or not, but it's kind of a nice image. Death of Barbie by breasts. Or maybe, Breast Reduction Barbie, complete with hospital gown and scalpel? Maybe they can put some of that extra plastic around her waist or hips. We wouldn't want to be wasteful. 

Leaving "Glee's" rendition of "The Thong Song" on the editing floor

As a self-professed "Glee" addict, I wasn't only disappointed with usually lovable Will Schuester's (Matthew Morrison) performance of the "Thong Song," I was also genuinely creeped out.

Will offered to give girl-next-door Emma Pillsbury (Jayma Mays) dance lessons for her wedding. The kicker being, of course, that Emma is in love with Will and only settling for her fiance.

Emma shows up to the lesson, alone, in her sequined and frilled wedding dress with a train longer than she is tall. He turns on "The Thong Song" because her gross fiance wants that to be their first dance.

Instead of teaching her to dance, and trying to make something of her predicament, Will sings along and bumps and grinds around the fabric that seems to be eating her alive. Kind of like a Broadway-style lap dance.

Meanwhile, Emma giggles and swoons over the adorableness of the object of her not-so-secret obsession while he's busy humping the air.

At first I was rooting for Emma and Will's impossible romance (as the producers undoubtedly want us to), but now that I see how disgusting it would be if taken to the sexual level, I kind of hope no one has to endure Will's scary sexuality.

Poor Emma, she can't be more than 90 pounds. She probably wouldn't survive one night with him.

Finding a new cover model for O, The Oprah Magazine

There's a lot to admire about Oprah Winfrey. She's the definition of a self-made woman, rags to riches, female empowerment. All that good stuff.

She has accumulated admirers across the globe and demographics. She sets the bar for fame, and she can do pretty much whatever she wants, or get someone to do it for her. Probably without paying them, because being able to grovel in her presence is enough for most earthly beings.

Frankly, she annoys the crap out of me. I'm glad that she helps people and donates to charity and yells really loud, but I don't want to hear about it. Her self-love has turned into self-obsession bordering on self-stalking.

Now, one could ask if I really have the right to complain if in the end, she's helping all these people. We could go into a whole ethics ends vs. means or whatever debate, and you'd probably be right. But I don't want to, and it's my blog so I don't have to.

I've gotten off track. All I really wanted to talk about was her magazine, O. I know for a fact she has is photographed alone on the covers of the last six issues, and undoubtedly more than that. We all know that empty frame above your bed is anxious to devour December's cover shot of you giving a reindeer a lap dance, but please, give someone else a turn.

Fictional Female Fridays: slasher flick virgins and their slutty friends

Health class has been teaching us for years that our sexuality is a matter of life and death. Whether you learned in sex-ed that unprotected sex could lead to STDs, AIDS and eventually death, or if your school district decided to take the moral high road via abstinence only education and kindly explain you'd be struck down by lightning and dragged straight to hell if you ever uttered the words "premarital sex," the bottom line is if you don't know what you're doing, you're going to die.

Most sex-ed teachers don't tell you that serial killers that specialize in brutal, adolescent murders use sexual status to determine their victims. Virgins are much more likely to survive a killer let loose behind the bleachers than her promiscuous friend who's screwed the entire football team.

Why is this so? No one ever really knows, because the killer is always slain by the innocent by the end of the movie, or has escaped his fatal wounds and gone into hiding until the "Twilight" and "Harry Potter" hype has gone down enough for him to revamp his slashing in a gory sequel.

The classic slashers all follow this formula. In "Halloween" the slutty friend is one of the first to go when she mistakes the killer for her boyfriend and tries to seduce him, not realizing he has already killed her boyfriend and hung him in the closet. The virginal babysitter escapes unscathed.

In "Scream," sweet Sidney isn't even attacked until she gives it up. She is pardoned, though, because having a mass murderer peer pressure you into having sex after killing most of your friends is kind of like a free pass on the virginity front. But maybe if it had actually felt good, the slasher gods wouldn't have been so forgiving.

Teenage slasher virgins are harder to come by these days, and often times lead to the deaths of all the main characters. Clearly, sex is to blame for these heartless murders. Couldn't you have just waited at least until college?

Not being obsessed with your period

When I was a freshman at UW-Madison, a women's studies professor I was interviewing for the school paper told me that a feminist is just someone who believes that women are equal to men.

Do I burn my bras? No, they're expensive. Do I walk around with unshaved legs and long locks of armpit hair? No, I want to be equal to men, not look like them. But yeah, I absolutely think women are equal to men, and therefore, I am a feminist.

But some people think this is not enough. They write books, they dissect the English language, they go on speaking tours and all of that is fine, until they "embrace" their periods as if Grey-Goose apple martinis were coming out of their vaginas.

British photographer Ingrid Berthon Moine photographs women wearing their own menstrual blood as lipstick.

New York artist Kate Goldwater uses sea sponges to collect her menstrual blood and use it as paint.

Activist Chella Quint has written a series of magazines about her period, and fun things you can do with tampons (besides sticking them in your poontang). She also travels around the country and photographs sanitary disposal units to document the travesty of women being told they are biohazards.

Here's some news for you: menstrual blood is a biohazard, you creeper. So are most male and female bodily secretions.

When men talk about their cum or their shit, women usually have one response: eeuw, how immature. And there's a good reason for that.

Women have come a long way in the last century, and we still have a long way to go. How is stopping to examine and salute our periods going to accomplish anything, except hold us back?

The most feminist-y thing, to me at least, to do is insert and move on, and when men shudder when we grab a tampon out of our bags on our way to the bathroom, we should be able to tell them to get over it, because we are.

Fictional Female Fridays: Nancy Drew

Halloween is right around the corner, and as much fun as blood, guts and gore can be, Halloween is about much more than a crimson mess. It's about mystery, suspense, thrills and anxiety.

There's no better way to commemorate the gory glory that is Halloween, than remembering the roots of the American mystery genre, and there's no better female icon to fit the part than Nancy Drew.

I used to read the Nancy Drew series as a little girl, and to be honest, I don't remember them very well. But looking back at American literature and film, it seems that Nancy Drew was one of the first (and for a long time, only) heroines that was sexy, smart, fearless and popular.

It's true she wasn't a very dynamic character. Like many mystery novels, we delve very far into her psyche, but that's sort of refreshing. Nobody's perfect. Everybody has their hang-ups and flaws.

But if nothing else, isn't the entire murder mystery genre about escaping reality? And if so, isn't it nice sometimes to escape all the complications of being human and just focus on who-dun-it with grace and style?

In a world of intense character studies and packing meaning into simplicity, Nancy Drew seems to have it pretty damn good sometimes.

Except, of course, for the body count.

Not bringing Zombies back

My boyfriend and I were at the bookstore the other night, practically drowning in "Twilight" paraphernalia. All "Twilight" magazines, calendars, lunch boxes--I even heard they came out with a "Twilight" vibrator, which is so, so very disturbing.

Since "Twilight" went from tween book to American obsession, other vampire series on TV and in bookstores have emerged, hoping to mooch off of Pattinson's sloppy seconds.

If you're not a 13-year-old girl, and the idea of running your hand through Edward Cullen's greasy hair grosses you out, you're probably as over vampires as I am ("True Blood" excluded, of course).

First it was pirates (I still fantasize about Johnny Depp's braided chin hair), now it's vampires, so what's next? My boyfriend says it's zombies.

No, no, no, no, NO! Pirates and vampires, though overplayed, are sexy. Why? They're independent, rebellious outlaws. They have style and they have spunk.

Zombies have none of this. They're...zombies, the idea being they can't think for themselves and their entire vocal range is limited one note, and usually reduced to a vocabulary of 6 or 7 words.

Zombies, I boycott you. So what's next? Thoughts?

Sexiling

Starting this semester, Tufts University bans sexual activity in the dorms when the roommate is present. The AP article doesn't mention if this includes pressuring a roommate to leave the room if you want to have sex, but Tufts spokeswoman says the policy isn't about discouraging sexual activity, but rather encouraging communication between roommates.

She also said this policy came about after numerous complaints over the last academic year.

So my question is, how much sex are Tufts students actually having? I can remember at least three friends who complained to me about either being sexiled or forced to listen to their roommates have sex in just my first week of college. 

We were encouraged to talk to our R.A.s about any problem we may have with our roommates, sexiling included, but there was never a policy dealing specifically with sexiling.

It must have gotten pretty bad at Tufts for them to take "your R.A.s are here to talk about anything" to the level of "if your roommate has sex and you're in your room, talk to us and they will be punished."

Sexually deprived Tufts students--have you ever been to the biochemical functions of macromolecules stacks in the library? Didn't think so. Most people haven't. Hint. Hint.

Fictional Female Fridays: Jenna from "30 Rock"

Until last season, I thought of 30 Rock's Jenna Maroney (Jane Krakowski) as extremely self-absorbed bordering on narcissistic. However, when she tried to off a good friend in hopes that the hot paramedic would show up, she was upgraded to extremely narcissistic bordering on sociopathic.

Jenna, who plays the lead actress for the show within the show--SNL-style "The Girlie Show," expects and receives the star treatment she knows she deserves. But she's not afraid to get down and dirty and use her "secret weapon," her SEXuality (she always accents the first syllable) when necessary. Like sleeping with an extra pretending to be her boss's boss, or throwing a tantrum about the air conditioning to remind everyone else of their place well below her.

No matter what she does, or who she steps on while doing it, she does it with a huge smile, her chin up and her chest out.

Diet secrets from a working girl who's always thinking about food

At the risk of sounding like Cosmo, I've developed two tricks in my transition from full time college student to full time employee that saved me from the post-freshmen 15. In college, When you wake up at 11 every morning, the number of calories consumed before 11 a.m. is a whopping 0, and lunch is practically a second away. But when you have to be at work by 8 and awake by 7, it's a long way and a lot of hunger until noon.

There's a learning curve involved in re-developing your eating habits to match 40 hour a week schedules, especially when you think of food as on a higher plane than most worldly pleasures. Though I haven't lost any weight, I haven't gained any either, and I can promise these tips are completely original. None of that "eat several small meals a day" crap.

1. Pack snacks that you have to prepare. I used to bring two granola bars--one for the morning and one for the afternoon. But it's very difficult to know that food is right next to you and all you have to do is reach into your bag to eat it. Then you'll end up eating both at 9 a.m. and indulging your inevitable mid-afternoon hunger with a trip to the vending machines.

Now I bring oatmeal because having to get up, walk to the kitchen, mix in the water, wait for the microwave and then clean the bowl afterwards is such a pain that I have to be really hungry before I'm willing to take the time. Call me lazy, but it keeps me thin.

2. Eat your lunch at your desk while you're working, and spend your lunch break doing something recreational that doesn't involve eating. If you have an hour to eat, but are so hungry that you scarf down your sandwich in 10 minutes, you'll feel inclined to find more food to fill up the time. Instead, eat at your desk, and when you're finished go off somewhere with your book.

Male singers that understand the line between romantic and creepy

Every woman has a different idea of what's romantic. There's the ever so popular long walk on the beach, or dinner under the stars. I personally like my romance to have a little more edge, like cuddling under a blanket and watching Freddy Krueger tear the shit out of horny teenagers through their bed sheets.

But one thing that almost every woman, and man, would agree on is that music has been the cornerstone of romance since the beginning of time. In "Twelfth Night," Shakespeare wrote, "If music be the food of love, play on. . ."

You've got your Mariachi bands serenading lovers at nice restaurants and 9-piece orchestras at wedding receptions. In 1989 John Cusack held a boom box in the rain to declare his love for valedictorian Diane Court and in the 90s the boy band was born.

As has always been true, different women get the ooh-if-he-were-only-mine chills from different types of songs. David Archuleta has women swooning (some illegally, is he 18 yet?!?) over his crush that ain't going awaaay aay aaay yaa yaa.

Personally, I think Blink-182's "Going Away to College" is one of the most romantic songs ever written. "Why does it feel the same to fall in love or break it off?" Ahh, brilliant. Makes absolutely no sense, but just brilliant.

But I hope that all of us women can agree that sometimes men take their vocals too far. Songs about following your women around are usually creepy. Some of them are done ok, but the mostly they're just stalkerish.

However, songs about successful stalking due to supernatural abilities are just disturbing. Like Clay Aiken's "Invisible."

Watcha doin' tonight

I could be a fly on your wall

Are you really alone?

Then

If I was invisible

Then I could just watch you in your room

If I was invincible

I'd make you mine tonight

Kind of sounds like he's going to use his invisibility to sneak into her (his?) room and then rape her (him?). Thankfully, Clay turned out to be gay, so at least we know as women, we're safe.

Parachute was a little more explicit with their recent hit "Ghost."

Look behind you

Avoid the shadows

Watch your back now

Make your breathing shallow

Keep your room locked

And leave the blinds closed

I'm right there staring at your window

Then

I'm in the background

On the radio

I'm in your car, in your house

Waiting at your door

Under your footsteps

I'm everything you know

Just let me haunt, let me haunt

Let me be your ghost

Hmm. A lot of women dream of having a hit song written about them. I guess this sort of shatters that fantasy.

Fictional Female Fridays: Dee from "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia"

It's very difficult to create a fan base for a show that's premise is four horrible people own a bar, but "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" has garnered a cultish following from its quirky humor, encouraging fans to take a weekly, 30 minute breather from their moral codes.

Dee Reynolds, played by previously unknown Kaitlin Olson, runs with the abominable crowd comprised of her three co-owners, which include her twin brother, and her equally despicable father played by Danny DeVito. Ironically nicknamed "Sweet Dee," she is the classic definition of a guy's girl, who despite her slim figure and long brown hair, is completely de-sexualized in the man's world of alcohol.

No matter how platonic and well-intentioned, close friendships between heterosexual men and women typically contain some sort of element of sexual tension, or at least flirtation. But Sweet Dee has made the full transformation into "one of the guys." She swears, schemes and takes no crap from her co's, and the writers have shrewdly refrained from creating sexual relationships or even mistakes between Dee and the non-blood related members of her crew, even though Olson is married to one of them.

Instead of sweetly batting her eyelashes when she doesn't get her way, she fights for it, whether it's convincing her brother to sleep with his friends' moms, pretending to be retarded for a welfare check or eating homeless people.

If celebutantes auctioned off their virginity for charity

There are few things that irritate me more than promise rings, where teenage girls and boys wear chastity rings to show off their virginity, making a promise to god and the rest of the world that they won't have sex until they're married.

Sometimes they attend ceremonies where the youngsters take a pledge with their parents that they will abstain from sex. Turning a sexual promise into a family affair is creepy, and seems sort of incestuous in an inexplicable way.

The promise rings are all the rage with the teenage brand of child stars and singers, especially the Disney ones. Why they need to advertise virginity like a new clothing line is completely lost on me, but for some reason it's just as trendy as skinny jeans and hormonal vampires.

If you're going to make a public spectacle of your virginity, why not make one of losing it as well? And at the same time contribute something more to society than a soundtrack detailing your dysfunctional relationship with the Jonas Brothers.

Every now and then a story of some girl auctioning off her virginity becomes public. Why not a charity auction? Miley's virginity could probably feed a small country, or at least a supermodel gone rogue (Tyra).

The lesbian kiss in "Jennifer's Body"

When I first saw a preview for the slasher/possessed/high school Megan Fox flick "Jennifer's Body," I thought it looked ridiculous but I kind of secretly wanted to see it. Then I found out it was written by Diablo Cody, and I was no longer ashamed of my desire.

I had high hopes for how the ex-stripper, sharp (and busy) tongued creator of pregnant tomboy Juno would handle the old don't-go-in-there-because-you-will-be-[insert passive verb associated with eating, armageddon or getting high]-to- death.

The answer? I don't know, because I can't convince anyone to see it with me. My boyfriend came close, because, well, Megan Fox is sexy as hell, but I'd still have to exchange a night watching some documentary about the lesser known U.S. presidents. Sorry Diablo, you're not worth spending three hours trying to figure out how to strangle myself with my boyfriend's shoelace without him noticing.

Whether or not the movie delivered is secondary to the media buzz, especially about the kiss between Fox and co-star Amanda Seyfried. What's interesting, though, is how Cody, Fox and Seyfried all had different interpretations of the kiss.

Cody told the Frisky the kiss "was intended to be something profound and meaningful to me and to Karyn [Kusama, the director]. . .There is a sexual energy between the girls which is kind of authentic, because I know when I was a teenaged girl, the friendships that I had with other girls were almost romantic, they were so intense."

Seyfried had quite a different take on smooching Fox. She told WENN "We knew that it was going to play a really in role in publicizing the movie. We kind of rolled our eyes at the idea of having to make out."

And, of course, count-on-her-to-be-weird Fox, in an MTV interview, said she prefers kissing Seyfried over her soon-to-be-meat male co-stars.

"I feel much safer with girls, so I felt more comfortable kissing her in the movie than kissing any of the other people that I had to kiss."

Although Fox goes onto acknowledge that Seyfried felt uncomfortable with the whole thing, it sounds like the kiss was quite the spectacle, both on and off camera.

Why the fact that there's a lesbian kiss is such a big deal, who knows? I feel like more movies come out with at least minimal girl-on-girl action than they do without.

The double standard for women

Women have been complaining about the sexual double standard for god knows how long? And rightfully so. I don't know where it came from (probably men), how it started and why it's prevailed for all these years. But it sure as hell isn't fair.

Women who have sex are sluts, and women who don't are prudes. Having verses not having sex can mean a lot of things. Waiting to have sex until you're in a relationship can go either way. You're a slut because you didn't wait until marriage, or you're a prude because you demanded a commitment before you gave it up. It can vary based on the situation, who's having the conversation, and which way the wind is blowing.

But this double-edged sword has a positive twist. If you can't win either way, then why bother to play at all? In it's own way the double standard is revealing a liberating truth--that there's no right or normal way to have sex.

If the double standard didn't exist, and all women were valued more one way or the other, we would all try to emulate that, which would be a bad thing because the right answer to waiting or not, or for how long, is different for everybody.

I know virgins who I consider slutty and women who can't count their encounters on both hands (sometimes toes) completely well-adjusted.

If you can't win, make up your own rules and play your own game.

When girls you don't like get fat

I don't judge people based on their appearance. In fact, I think that attractiveness is based on much more than your weight, hair, complexion etc. I'd argue that 90% of it is how you carry yourself and how you feel about yourself, especially if you're female.

But when I don't like someone for other reasons, namely their personality, I really have no problem making fun of them for their physical flaws. And If we were once friends and you suddenly went stone-cold bitch on me, I will talk about how your treasure trail looks in a bikini behind your back. If you're a disgruntled waitress with an attitude problem, I will laugh at the muffin top you tried to squeeze into size 2 jeans (for the record, I am not a size 2 either...and I'd never pretend to be).

When I was in high school, I was eating lunch at a cafe with my mom when she saw a girl who had been particularly bitchy the past year walk by. She asked me if she was pregnant. She wasn't.

It's not secret that girls get hit a lot harder for less than flawless appearances, by fellow females and the male population alike. It's also not to say that I'm not disgusted when it happens most of the time, and this post may just be fueling the fire, assuming my blog actually has some clout, which I seriously doubt.

But don't pretend you don't do it. I just say save your respect for the people who deserve it, stand up for those people when they take crap for how they look, and sit it out on the people who don't. You wouldn't want to tire yourself out.

And don't deny yourself a good laugh at someone else's expense once in awhile, as long as they suck as a human being, and you don't do it on a public forum. Oops.

Wondering why some idiots thinks last night's VMA stunt was staged

Seriously people? Yes, the Movie Awards' Bruno/Eminem fiasco was scripted. But how could you not know that? Bruno's genitals were slowly lowered onto Eminem's face, and he stayed in character the entire time.

Scripting something like the Kanye scandal would've involved the forging of both Swift and Beyonce's awards, or at least informing them beforehand, and it made Kanye look like a total shithead.

It left a bad taste in everyone's mouth, and it wasn't funny...so it must've been real.

Taylor and Beyonce

It's always nice to see some lady lovin' in the big, crazy, competitive music world.

As Pink eloquently put it on her Twitter feed , Kanye was "the biggest piece of shit on earth" for the crap he pulled at the VMAs, especially because it was Taylor Swift, arguably the sweetest and most innocent celebrity in Hollywood, not to mention she's only 19!

Although I'm not a big fan of her music, I fell in love with Swift when I saw her on the MTV special, "Once Upon a Prom," where she chose one lucky Tuscaloosa high schooler to be her prom date.

She was too sweet to pick the lucky man based on the video interviews they sent her because she didn't want anyone to get hurt. So she picked out of a hat.

And after extensive deliberation over what prom dress to wear, her date showed up in pink, explaining that his baseball coach had breast cancer. Swift rummaged through the back of her tour bus for old performance outfits and quickly changed into a pink dress to match him. Too cute.

So Kanye, fuck you, Beyonce, way to be a role model for a younger starlet, and Taylor, damn girl, you handled that admirably for someone with a few months still left of adolescence! 

Nerdy sexy guys

This seems to be the "in" thing right now, and I definitely didn't coin the phrase or the concept.

But I can take credit for always having had a thing for nerdy guys. I think it's super sexy when a guy has dorky habits. Like my boyfriend recently made sourdough bread, and spent several hours trying to understand the chemistry behind the yeast and the flour and the fermenting and all that stuff.

The last time I was so attracted to him was a couple weeks ago when he wrestled me for an unopened t-shirt crammed into plastic packaging the size of a bar of soap because he wanted to feel it uncrumble.

I think there are two types of nerdy sexy. One is the Justin Long and Andy Samberg nerdy sexy--kind of disproportionate looking, inappropriately funny, somewhat unkempt and lanky.

Then there's the baby-faced nerdy, which my boyfriend embodies. Cute like a puppy, pretends to be timid but is actually confident. Like Harry Potter and Ron, or Will Turner (Orlando Bloom) in "Pirates of the Caribbean."

I'm glad nerdy sexy is now nationally recognized. Though I'm kinda pissed the industry stole my market, all the nerdy sexy men of the world deserve their time in the spotlight.

Sex with people you hate

The concept is pretty steamy and also pretty strange. Isn't sex supposed to be a manifestation of love, and isn't love the exact opposite of hate?

No, it's not. In one episode of "Desperate Housewives," and yes, I'm aware I'm about to quote "Desperate Housewives," said to her malicious son, "The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference."

This makes a lot of sense. Sex with people you're indifferent to is entirely unsexy. Hate and love aren't opposite because they're both emotionally charged, and what is sex if not some crazy mix of emotional and physical?

I thought a Google search was in order. I found this book, "How Emotions Work" by Jack Katz. He says, "Only through sex can human beings focus all of their energies in using a small part of themselves to physically attack each other with unparalleled intimacy and unrestrained force. . ."

According to Katz, sex and hate are linked because hate is inherently violent, love is not. And sex, well, it can be.

Fictional Female Fridays: Emma from "Glee"

"Glee" premiered last week and I am obsessed. Judging by the Facebook status buzz, I'm not alone in this either. Despite its uncanny likeness to the 1999 Broderick/Witherspoon hit, "Election" (though it appears they have no production staff in common), "Glee" is the exact comedy I think we all need right now to forget all the craziness in our country.

It's uplifting but it's only cheesy at the right moments. It's also dark and inappropriate when it needs to balance the happy musical numbers with some relatable cynicism.

I don't have much reason for picking "Glee's" germaphobe, borderline OCD guidance counselor Emma Pillsbury (Jayma Mays) except that she is so adorable you just want to squeeze her until her cute little bug eyes pop out of her head.

Hopelessly in love with kind-hearted Spanish teacher turned glee club director Will Schuester, Emma spends hours crying to sad music in her car and continuously turns down propositions from the well-intentioned but kind of gross football coach.

But when Will starts to notice Emma in the way she wants to be noticed, she quickly ends their flirtation because she feels guilty that Will is married with a baby on the way.

Well, either that or she doesn't want to get her hopes up.

But we will root for them anyway because Emma is cute and Will's irritatingly self-entitled wife lied about being pregnant.

Emma, just keep on polishing your grapes before you eat them and cleaning that pencil sharpener for hours. You'll get him in the end!

Men that don't cheat on their girlfriends/wives

I was watching TV the other night and saw a disturbing advertisement for The Ashley Madison Agency. Their message is simple, "Life is short. Have an affair." They guarantee users will succeed in having an affair with the help of their services, and pride themselves on their discretion.

I consider myself pretty open minded when it comes to relationships. I'm all for fuck buddies, open relationships, swinging, poly-amorous, whatever your thing is as long as everyone agrees on it and there's no deception involved. Cheating is based on lies and deceit and completely undermines the idea of an egalitarian relationship.

In this CNN interview, Ashley Madison CEO Noel Biderman explains that his 30-second TV spot is not going to convince anyone to have an affair, and that the people using his site would've cheated anyway.

I agree with that completely, and I'll take it one step further. I think cheating serves a purpose. It's part of the natural order of things. It can teach people about their own capacity for monogamy. It can be a quick way to end a bad relationship that no one would have had the strength to end on their own, and it can make you appreciate the virtues of a trusting and honest relationship if you have experienced cheating in your past, whether you were cheated on or the cheater.

But every good thing that comes out of cheating happens when the cheater either fesses up or gets caught. Nothing good can come from cheating if the partner doesn't eventually find out, which is why nothing good can come from Ashley Madison, which strives to not only guarantee the affair's secrecy, but eliminate the guilt factor, which is the necessary and natural catalyst to the growth that infidelity can potentially yield.

However, that is not my biggest issue with Ashley Madison. Just about every media element produced by this company implies that it's the man who is going to have the affair because his wife is disgusting and how could he possibly pass up these sexy ladies who want sex without commitment?

Check out these images here, here, here and here

And to top it off, this commercial that was my introduction to the agency:

Why can't it be the woman looking for an affair after her husband gained 300 pounds or suffered from erectile dysfunction? Why is the wife always gross post-wedding when men are the ones that burp and fart and think Dorito breath is funny?

Other sites that aren't as forward about infidelity send out the same messages. Like this one:

The idea is that she's no fun, so you should have a one night stand. This commercial makes the girlfriend into the villain, when she reacted just like any self-respecting woman should when her boyfriend is ogling everything with two tits and bare legs.

I have no problem with sites to help people looking for one night stands fulfill their itch. But why advertise to people already in relationships?

And then, of  course, is the biggest question of all: How can a country so concerned with the "sanctity of marriage" allow for crap like this to occur within "bible-sanctioned" marriages dare to suggest that marriage between people of the same sex is immoral?

Fictional Female Fridays: Shosanna from "Inglourious Basterds"

Jewish producer Lawrence Bender described Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds" as a "fucking Jewish wet dream."

That phrase seemed kind of offensive, but the guy's Jewish and it's also kind of true. A less offensive term would be "a great fantasy film," as my mom described it, and a "wouldn't-it-be-cool-if-that-actually-happened?" movie as my dad said.

Personally, I liked the part where Eli Roth shot Hitler in the head repeatedly until his face sort of exploded.

Anyway, back to Shosanna Dreyfus, a beautiful Jewish woman in her early 20's played by stunning French actress Mélanie Laurent. After witnessing the brutal massacre of her family hiding beneath the floorboards in a dairy farmer's home, she escapes to Paris, gathers forged papers and runs a movie theater.

A Nazi admirer convinces his superiors to hold the premiere of his film, where he portrays himself as a war hero, at her theater. 

Shosanna decides to burn it down with the help of her African-American boyfriend.

Though never aware of each other's plans, the Basterds, once they discover Hitler and his comrades will be in attendance, form their own plot to blow up the theater.

The Basterds take a quick and easy route by strapping dynamite to their legs, but Shosanna's plot to lock the Nazis in the theater, reveal herself as a Jew on the big screen, and slowly let it burn is much more creative and much more dramatic.

The Basterds raise suspicion the moment they walk into the theater, but Shosanna keeps her cover until her on-camera moment.

Her beautifully scripted mass murder scheme was the perfect contrast to Roth's intently focused face as he shot Hitler's face into the floor.   

A gay best friend

I've never had a gay best friend (though I've had my suspicions), but I've always wanted one. It seems like it would be the best of all worlds.

You can talk about boys with and compare notes on who's hot without the competition. You're never going to go for the same guy, and even if you do, there's no hard feelings because it's nothing against you if he turns out to be gay, and nothing reflection on him if he's actually straight.

You can hang out late at night without having to worry that some fleeting moment of attraction will ruin the whole friendship. Plus, he'll never look better in your little black dress than you do, and will probably always weigh more.

So gay guys in need of girl friends, please call?

Hooking up with assholes who are nice to you

I wouldn't recommend it, but we've all done it. We've all found ourselves desperately attracted to some guy we know to be a complete tool. We hear stories about him hooking up with some poor girl, and then kicking her out of bed afterwards, or laughing about intimate details with his friends.

But sometimes, you can't stop thinking about how hot the sex would be, and you realize you just have to do it once so you can move on with your life.

Once in awhile, this guy falls for you. He doesn't tell his friends, he keeps calling you and begs you to stay the night and take you to breakfast in the morning.

This one would fall under guilty pleasure--earning respect where apparently no one has before. And telling him to fuck off when he tells you he wants to commit.

But seriously, don't do it. If it's happened to you before, enjoy it, but don't go looking for it.

Hooking up with guys who don't brag about their conquests

It's been a long time since I've "hooked up," since I've been with my boyfriend for almost 2.5 years. I was a sophomore in college the last time I went on a first date.

But there are certain patterns I recognize in hindsight, and patterns I continue to see with my single friends. Certain types of guys that seemed to keep reappearing. One of those is the guy who brags about how many girls he's hooked up with. Sometimes he'll do this while trying to convince you to come home with him. The worst is when he does it during.

It's no secret that girls go for guys who excrete confidence. The idea must be by telling potential hook-ups how experienced you are, that girls are going to assume he's good in bed and want to try it out for themselves, or think he must be super confident to have succeeded so many times before.

I have no idea what they're trying to accomplish when they start bragging in the middle of "things."

Either way, the result is these guys come off as insecure douchebags. If the girl agrees to see him again, she's either really desperate or really horny.

Judging books by their covers

From early childhood they warn you not to judge books by their covers. This can mean a number of things--that situations aren't always what they seem, that ugly people can have beautiful personalities, or even just that dusty, unattractive books can be really interesting.

But I don't like the phrase because it ignores the women's intuition. The women's intuition relies on snap judgments. It's is how you can tell if the guy eyeing you across the bar is a total sleazebag, even if he doesn't say a word. It's that feeling in the pit of your stomach that stabs you when you've made a wrong decision even if every piece of logic is pointing you in that direction.

It's how we stay out of trouble and also how we succeed. I'd be willing to bet that no successful woman in the world didn't at one point say, "fuck it" and do exactly what she wanted to do, even if she wasn't entirely sure why she was doing it.

Authors that talk about their pets in their bios

I was browsing through the fiction section at Borders a few days ago when I noticed that a good number of the authors mentioned that they had a pet in their bios. So, I decided to run a little test. I went to the fiction new in paperback table and read the about me sections in 40 books. Four of the authors said they lived with their families and pets, and all four were women.

Granted four out of 40 doesn't sound that impressive, but that's 10 percent! Plus I spent a good 30 minutes going through all of them so I was damn well going to get a blog post out of it.

Besides, four out of 40 wouldn't be a large number if we were talking about, say, books with a sex scene or unrequited love. But this is kind of an obscure topic, so I'm standing by my first reaction--that female fiction writers are particularly prone to animal loving.

This is especially good news to me since I've always dreamed of being a famous novelist. I already have the animal loving bit down, so I'm hoping it works in reverse too-- that female animal lovers are prone to being famous, prize-winning authors. But I'm not holding my breath.

Notice I say animal and not dog or cat. Sara Gruen, author of "Water for Elephants," says she lives with four cats, two goats, two dogs and a horse.

Judy Reene Singer actually describers herself as an "all-around animal lover." Author of "Still Life with Elephants" (no, I know nothing about the apparent fictional elephant trend," Singer is a foster mother to two baby elephants and owns cats, dogs, horses and an African gray parrot.

"People of the Book" author Geraldine Brooks has three dogs and Maria Snyder, author of "Sea Glass," mentioned a pet too but I can't find it online, so I'll update when I go back to the bookstore later this week.

Fictional Female Fridays: Juno MacGuff

Juno MacGuff, in former stripper Diablo Cody's cinematic debut, "Juno," gives a unique perspective to teen pregnancy. Ellen Page portrays a fast-talking curious teenager, who, through what seemed like innocent experimentation, was left with an unwanted pregnancy and an awkward but adoring adolescent father, played by Michael Cera.

Juno shatters the Lifetime movie stereotype that teenager pregnancy is always a product of deeply troubled adolescent girls, or dumb, slutty ones. It takes the stance that teenagers do stupid things sometimes without devious intentions or a sex addiction that lands them in situations they're not prepared to cope with yet.

She's not so beautiful that the boys couldn't help themselves, she doesn't have Daddy issues, and she's not so in love that sex was the only way to express her feelings. She's just curious about sex. Who wasn't at 16?

Juno handles her pregnancy with grace and an unbreakable (though flippant) attitude. She takes responsibility by giving the baby up for adoption, and shows tremendous courage when she gives birth and must ignore the biological instinct to keep her baby.

The movie ends with a not pregnant Juno returning to her youth, riding her bike to her baby-daddy's house and fooling around on the guitar without a care in the world. Unlikely conclusion, but endearing nonetheless.

Fictional Female Fridays: Blair Waldorf

This Upper-East side princess negates the idea that blondes have more fun. "Gossip Girl's" Blair Waldorf (Leighton Meister) is the devil to her angelic (and kind of boring) blonde best friend Serena (Blake Lively).

Blair knows exactly what she wants and doesn't care how far she has to go to get it. Using her Queen Bee status and somewhat unconventional beauty, there is no obstacle she can't overcome to obtain what she knows she's entitled to, whether it be the heart of the elusive Chuck Bass, straight A's or surpassing Serena on the popularity scale.

It's true that Blair doesn't care who she has to step on to get what she wants, and that much of the "Gossip Girl" cast has lain helpless in her path of destruction, but there isn't anything Blair wouldn't do for the people she cares about, as long as it doesn't conflict with her own interests.

Books and movies where the fat girl doesn't lose weight

So I can't take complete credit for this one. I recently read "Good in Bed" by Jennifer Weiner about an overweight journalist coping with an ex-boyfriend and a career with body issues. In the Q&A section with Weiner after the book, she said the only heavy protagonists in books and movies always shed the pounds and become model-beautiful by the end.

Wanting to do something different, she created Cannie Shapiro, an outspoken, under-confident, 28-year-old Philadelphian. The book begins when she reads a magazine column called "Good in Bed" by her ex-boyfriend about being in a relationship with an overweight woman. Eventually, she finds another NJB (Nice Jewish Boy) who loves her for who she is and not what she looks like. Shocker.

But a lot happens in between. While almost every page of the first person novel is fueled with some sort of self-deprecating comment about her body, it's ultimately not about being fat. It's about finding your place in the world when everything feels mediocre, and what happens when mediocre gives way to excitement--for better and for worse.

Two movies come to mind on the topic. "Hairspray" and "Real Women Have Curves." Both of them give off the impression that they're going to be about women hating their bodies. But both of them--even more so than "Good in Bed"-- turn out to be much deeper than that.

"Hairspray," under the guise of a cutesy Jackie Kennedy era musical, features protagonist Tracy Turnblad, played on the big screen in 2007 by Nikki Blonsky. Tracy is overweight with a heart-of-gold, lusting to star on the fictional version of "American Bandstand," determined to overcome prejudices about her weight to get what she wants.

However, the movie/musical quickly transitions into a satire of segregation and racial tensions in the 1960s.

America Ferrera portrays Ana Garcia in "Real Women have Curves," a subtle coming-of-age story about a first-generation Mexican girl battling with the conflicting conservative values of her mother and the possibilities for smart women in the modern day.

Her weight remains constant through the film, but the end scene is a shot of her walking confidently on a busy New York sidewalk. She looks drastically different, though nothing is physically different, proving that you can change your appearance internally.

I'd say this is one of the most inspiring portrayals I've seen, but then again Ferrera was cast as Ugly Betty a few years later.

Never getting over your favorite song

I've had the same favorite song since I was 12. "Going Away to College" by Blink-182. Yes, I said Blink-182 and yes, I'm 22-years-old.

That song soothed me when I went to camp for the first time, when I broke up with my first boyfriend, when I actually did go away to college, and when I graduated college a couple months ago. And everything in between.

I've heard that song performed live twice, with three different people I was once close to and now have nothing to do with.

It's true that nostalgia runs in my family. My brother used to cry when he got new shoes because he felt bad for the old ones (even though now he likes new things more than anyone I know).

But I don't think that's why I've held onto this song for so long. Like everyone else, I go through phases where I just can't get enough of some song for a couple months, and then it's replaced by another one and I never listen to it again. If I happen to stumble across it a few years later, it will remind me of whatever was going on in my life at that point.

I don't associate "Going away to college" with any person or event or milestone because it's been there the whole time. I never got sick of it and I never stopped listening to it.

More than anything else, it's just a reminder that I've come a long way to grow into the woman I am today. But in so many ways, I will always be the little girl listening to Blink-182 on her Walkman wondering when I would have my first kiss, when my parents would let me see PG-13 movies (they must not have been aware of the parental advisory sticker on the Blink CD), and if and when I would ever grow up.

Agatha Christie's self love

Every few years, since I was 10, I pick up an Agatha Christie novel. I started reading "The Body in the Library" a couple days ago.

One of her characters says, ". . .Do you like detective stories? I do. I read them all and I've got autographs from Dorothy Sayers and Agatha Christie and Dickson Carr ad H.C. Bailey."

In other words, she named herself as one of the most renowned mystery writers in her own novel. Hurray for self loving (even if it is sort of obnoxious).

Biking through stop signs

I wish I could say I bike to work every day because I care about the environment. I just don't want to pay for parking and I'm not smart enough to figure out the buses.

But there's this gigantic hill (on Linden, for you Madisonians) at the end of my ride, and there's a stop sign at the very bottom of it, which would force me to forego any speed I can build up beforehand. That is, if I stopped.

Biking through stop signs early in the morning on a street where there are no police anyway allows me to savor some of the feminine rebelliousness that we all give up when we graduate college and get a real job. But no matter how conformist I may become in my quest for a solid career, I am still a badass because I don't stop at all the stop signs.

Polite phones

We've all heard of smart phones, but I think my smart phone should also be called a polite phone. My Palm Pre won't get rid of the missed call icon on my screen until I call that person back. Kind of annoying, but sort of sweet at the same time.

If Patti Stanger were fictional

The star of Bravo's "Millionaire Matchmaker," who coined the phrase "Does the pecker get off the couch?", embodies two of the qualities that never fail to make me squirm: superficiality and hypocrisy.

She's superficial because makes a living (and her stardom) by pairing scuzzy millionaires with beautiful women--and charging them enough to feed Rhode Island for it. Basically, she's reenforcing the LA driven stereotype that only rich men and supermodel-quality women deserve love.

On the client profile for women applying to be in her Millionaire's Club, she asks them their dating age range, encouraging them to "remember men don't make serious money till they get into their 40's."

It doesn't look like the men have to apply, they just have to be able to afford it.

And she's a hypocrite because she looks like an ogre. Every week she tells women they can't be in her club because they're too fat, too short, wrong hair color, or just plain ugly.

She also tells women that if the guy doesn't put a ring on it within a year, then they dump him. But she dated a guy for five and a half years before he proposed, and when he finally did, The Frisky congratulated her. I thought you were better than that, Frisky.

The worst part is that she's Jewish, and often accredits her matchmaking prowess to her Jewish upbringing. Remember all those fun stereotypes of Jews being JAPy, money-grubbing, power-hungry fiends? I think I speak for Jews everywhere when I say thank you, Patti.

 

Little girls that don't dress like hookers

How could we ever forget Britney Spears' sexy school-girl-gone-bad video "Hit Me Baby One More Time?" She wasn't even 17.

But at least Spears never pretended she wasn't marketing sexy. Now, girls are sexy younger, and the messages are subtler.

The holy trinity of tweendom--Selena Gomez, Demi Lovato and, of course, Miley Cyrus--first took over little girls' televisions everywhere, and have infiltrated billboards, magazines and now our clothing stores.

Miley's various photo scandals--from Vanity Fair to MySpace--are pretty much common knowledge. But Gomez and Lovato have maintained their reputation for being family friendly, even when they shoot suggestive glances and dance seductively in videos like this.

Don't get me wrong. I think Gomez and Lovato are adorable (not so much Miley), and I don't think it's their fault. They're just imitating the girls before them, just like every other girl in the country.

Abercrombie's tween line's, Abercrombie Kids, homepage features tweens photographed from the waist down.

Hollister's new tween shirts feature slogans like "legal-ish" and "I heart the Woody"

I think some marketing dumbass decided to armor the young stars with promise rings to stay virgins until marriage as a weapon against accusations of sexy poses with lips slightly parted and eyes half closed. They can't be inappropriate because they're virgins. But for some reason, it seems to have worked.

Frankly, I'd rather have a sexually active daughter than a virginal one that looks like a slut. But neither would be preferable.

Fictional Female Fridays: Penny Lane

"Almost Famous" is one of my favorite movies of all time. Mostly because it's about a journalist, who happens to be the geeky, awkward, sweet baby-faced kind of guy I always go for.

But I also fell in love with Penny Lane (Kate Hudson) because she is like no other movie heroine out there. She is innocent without being virginal, sweet but not selfless, smart but not intellectual, and just plain weird.

My favorite scene is when she's alone in a hotel ballroom, dancing on rose pedals to Cat Stevens's "Wind of my Soul." Why can't I have that much fun when I'm by myself?

Fictional Female Fridays: Elizabeth Bennet

Pride and Prejudice was the original porn for women. In Elizabeth Bennet, Jane Austen created a woman, in a time where women were valued for their trousseaus and face powder, whose spunk and wit would turn heads even today.

What amazes me most about Elizabeth is how she overcame her upbringing to become a woman so ahead of her time. While her mom and most of her sisters had a one track mind-marriage and money-she somehow embodied the values that weren't common place until more than 100 years later. Truly, a testament to Austen herself.

It's a love story about loving someone for who they are and what they stand for, in a time where love was about beauty, submission and riches.

The stories of the free thinking woman with a big mouth finding love with someone she originally despises are a dime a dozen today. But this was the first, the source of the hatred- turned- sexual- tension and woman-falling-in-love-without-losing-herself stories that we can't seem to get enough of.

Laughing at girls who say they're too pretty for anyone to take them seriously

Thanks to almost every aspect of the media, sometimes it seems like pretty girls are the only ones being taken seriously. The stigma of pretty girls being dumb may have existed at some point, but I think it's long outdated. Sorry.

The girls I've heard say this for the most part are known for their vast insecurities and bar-time sluttiness. It's just a way to announce to the world that they're good looking without seeming arrogant.

I'm not saying beautiful women are never discriminated against. But so are plain looking and not-so-pretty women. So get over yourselves.

Postponing "Megan Wants a Millionaire"

I'll admit it. I'm a VH1 reality TV junky. I've watched all three seasons of "Rock of Love," the last two seasons of "Charm School," "I Love Money" and most of "I Love Money 2." I've seen bits and pieces of "Daisy of Love," "Real Chance of Love," "Tool Academy," and, well, you get the point.

I like them because they're mindless enough that I don't have to concentrate, but engaging enough that I can place high-stakes bets with my fellow shamed VH1 addict, who shall remain nameless (achem Jeff) on who's going to be dismissed tonight, who's going to punch who tonight, and who's going to take their top off first.

My VH1 obsession was exactly how I became acquainted with VH1 vixen Megan Hauserman. She made her reality TV debut on "Beauty and the Geek" and her first VH1 appearance on the second season of "Rock of Love." Since then she's starred in "I Love Money" and the second season of "Charm School."

Almost always bikini-clad Megan is a super bitch. She's manipulative, selfish and shallow. But she is ridiculously smart. She knows how to convince people to do things, and she gets her way almost every time. On "I Love Money," she controlled almost all of the eliminations.

A couple weeks ago, "Megan Wants a Millionaire" aired on VH1, where a group of sleazy millionaire's competed for Megan's heart. Recently, the show has been postponed and pulled from VH1's Web site due to contestant Ryan Alexander Jenkins being wanted for murder. He later starred in "I Love Money 3," which has not yet been aired.

Though the murder of Jenkins's ex-wife was tragic, I'm glad "Megan Wants a Millionaire" is no longer on air. As someone who's enjoyed watching Megan's antics and celebrating the unprecedented intelligence of a VH1 reality TV contestant, I hated watching her do nothing except being doted on and fought over. I missed the play-dirty Megan.

How can I be a fan of such a despicable human being? It's reality TV, where you don't get famous for being a good person, and you definitely don't watch it for its moral fiber. So lay off.

Even though "Megan Wants a Millionaire" is officially off the air, for now at least, I still made one more bet with Jeff. He bet CNN would pick up the story. I thought no one would care that much. Guess who won?

Actors from grown up shows who cameo on Sesame Street

Again, this doesn't have much to do with my theme, but I thought I'd point it out anyway. I recently discovered, via IMDB stalking, that two characters from two of my favorite shows guest starred on Sesame Street.

Will Arnett, who plays Gob, a failing magician, on "Arrested Development" guest starred as, well, a crappy magician on Sesame Street. No "Final Countdown" but still worth looking at.

And for comparison:

Amy Sedaris from "Strangers with Candy" guest stars as Snow White. Although very different characters, she brings her same comedic style from "Strangers" to the part.

And for comparison:

Missed Connections on Craigslist

There are few things more romantic than being admired from a distance. I'm not really sure why this is, but maybe it has to do with being idealized or the empowerment of obliviously going about your own business while someone can't sleep because they can't get that glowing image of you sauntering off humming "Oh what a beautiful morning."

Well, maybe not.

But in reality, a lot of secret admirers turn into stalkers and sweet talking strangers are just trying to sleep with you. That's why it's better to get your romantic fix vicariously, and there's no better place to do that than on Craigslist, where today's Missed Connections subject lines range from "Quaker Steak and Lube Car Cruise" to "I hate time, but I love fate" to the vengeful "I told you that you were the one- I meant it. I'm done."

You can hope that wrote one for you, that you're on someone's pedestal somewhere, and that maybe that hot blonde who showed the writer where the laminate cleaners are was, in fact, you. But for your own safety, keep your Craigslist activity to selling your moldy futon.

Being a bitch

No, I don't mean in the 8th grade girl way where you tell the girl with the frizzy hair who can do math better than you that no one will ever love her.

I mean in the "get stuff done" way (see Tina Fey below)

Last year I had the landlords from hell. For you Madisonians, don't ever live in the Saxony. Ever.

Our problems started on day one. I was recently interviewed by the Cap Times about getting in trouble for letting my boyfriend and his roommate move their stuff in for a few days between the end of their old lease and start of their new one. Management told me because of my breach of contract, I wasn't allowed to use the elevator to move them out. I lived on the 8th floor.

Cap Times writer Kim Ukura wrote this about my experience:

When apartment management found out about the plan, one manager accused Wiatrak of breaking her contract by having extra people moved in their apartment.

"I told her I didn't have them move in; I just had guests for a few days with lots of stuff," Wiatrak says.

My bitchiness didn't end there. I later went off on the same manager about holding my package from Amazon with my class books in it for two weeks without letting me know, and after winter break, I moved back in with my new guinea pig, Penelope, I had fallen in love with and adopted from my sister even though pets weren't allowed.

Eventually, I got caught with the guinea pig on the surveillance camera (I know, who watches those tapes anyway?). I was immediately served with a pompous letter written in pseudo-lawyer jargon telling me to get rid of the pig or be evicted.

So, I begged. I told her how much the pig meant to me, I offered her money and I cried. Her response? That she could make an exception but she won't because she doesn't like me.

In other words, because I was a bitch.

With two months left on my lease, my very, very generous friend offered to take care of her until I moved out. It broke my heart, but I got through it. My friend took amazing care of her, I snuck her into the building on the weekends when management wasn't there, and when I moved into my new place, Penelope moved back in with me.

When I moved out of the Saxony, I made sure there was not a trace of the pig anywhere in the apartment. But during my walk through, psycho management told me she would not refund any of my deposit because Penelope had once lived there even after admitting our place was impeccably clean.

Eventually she figured out this was illegal and sent me my deposit anyway.

Even though I lost my guinea pig for a couple of months, I'm glad I stood up for myself when I did. I'm glad that I was a bitch, that I didn't lie down and take it just because she said she was in charge, and that I wasn't so nervous I couldn't speak up.

She once said to me, "I don't know who you are or where you come from that you think the rules don't apply to you."

I ignored her and continued begging to keep my pig, but I think that was the defining moment in our relationship. I never said the rules don't apply to me, but I was raised to question the ones that are just plain bullshit.

People who don't believe that will never make a difference. They will walk this earth as nobody's until they die and nobody remembers them.

Even if no one remembers me, at least I'll know I tried. And if at least one person calls me a bitch, I'll know I got somewhere.

Cooking for one. . .or learning to cook together

I've lived with my boyfriend officially for three months, and unofficially for two years. By the time I moved out of the dorms into an apartment with a kitchen, Jeff and I were already serious and committed to eating together.

Meaning, I never had to cook for one. When he wasn't around for meals for whatever reason, I never found it worth my time to make a hearty meal just for myself and usually ended up with easy Mac or a concoction of whatever was in the fridge.

Not to mention I shared the kitchen with three other girls.

But since Jeff and I moved in together, sans roommates (except our beautiful guinea pig Penelope), we've made an effort to learn to cook real food for each other. We've made kugels, casseroles, gazpachos and more.

I've learned to put food in the oven without burning myself (he still has to take it out) and Jeff has learned that if he gets hungry at night and eats all of the soft tortillas while I'm sleeping, I get really, really mad.

But the point is, we've learned about cooking and food together. Sometimes he surprises me with cooking big meals while I lie on the couch watching TV, and sometimes I cook for him while he's reading to the guinea pig.

Jeff reading to the guinea pig (no, he's not a Republican)

I grew up afraid of the 50's housewife. I didn't want to become her so I rejected anything that was associated with her. As a teenager I refused to cook, clean or straighten my hair, and as a result, I kind of came out like a spoiled brat (except for the hair thing, I've since learned to tame my curls).

But there's nothing wrong with learning to take care of yourself. Now when Jeff's not around and I want a big meal, I make a big meal. For me.

And if you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/whatever, you're not going to become that subservient woman as long as the taking care of each other is mutual.