Megan: so..apparently it’s valentine’s day?
i can’t keep track of the date, but everyone on facebook says so?
Erin: oooooh that’s what all that’s about
i am but a poor single person
i believe ritual suicide is expected of me today
Megan: yes, have you ordered your red heart-spotted suicide stationary yet?
Erin: i planned to make my own. with my blood.
before i drink poison while listening to “One is the Loneliest Number” on loop
have you taken any suicide measures yet?
Megan: my bathtub is prepped for a romantic soak with a tragic ending
Erin: nicely done
that last one sums up my feelings
Megan: we win!
Like every other rational human being in the world (excepting Megan, who is a professional pop culture contrarian), I went to see Skyfall last weekend, and it was beautiful and awesome and I love it with all my heart and urge you to throw your money at it too. There was one, slight little thing though that irked me just the teensiest bit though…
(Spoilers ahead for dumdums who have never heard of James Bond movie tropes before.)
Oh Naughty Bond Girl. You are inarguably smokin’ hot and you have an accent. But I’m not jealous, no no, for in the world of Bond, the bad guys are always punished and the bad girls are always slutty collateral damage that drive our noble British hero toward kicking greater piles of ass for Queen and Country. Bang, betray, be killed – that’s the typical lifespan of a Bad Bond Girl. Hoo boy how many feminist film critics have had fun with that formula over the last fifty years? But come on. All this predictable misogyny? Trembling and victimized ladies at the mercy of violent men? Peace! Quell your ideological rage, Reader, for I have a solution.
The world needs a new kind of a Bond girl, and I am she. I will make that sacrifice.
- I will make that sacrifice right into the middle of this man sandwich.
Let me count the ways in which I am a superior Bond Girl than boring old Severine up there. Let’s invert some cliches – Continue reading
As I sat and tried to churn out my first post on this new blog, I endeavored to skip over the “What I’ve Been Up to and How My Life is Now Compared to a Year Ago” entry. Partly because it seemed hokey and indulgent, also because there are minimal blanks to fill in.
That said, after many hours/days/weeks/months of attempting this method and writing ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOTHING, I have determined that it is necessary to provide this info. My bitching requires context.
My Life in Four Points:
Friends: See where I am there? The pink dot, in relation to any/all of my friends, blue dots? Unacceptable.
Job: My career path can be best summed up in this semi-mathematical statement*:
Future: In 2013, I will be getting the helllllllllllllllllll out of here. Destination?
1.) Take a look at the Friend map.
2.) I hear there is awesome music, kazillions of food trucks and men with beards there.
3.) Food trucks and men with beards.
Didn’t you miss us?!
*If I actually knew how to write an equation, this entire point would be rendered moot.