Confession Monday, Feb 25 2008

Okay, I know you all will think of me as a totally twisted and perverted basket-case from now on… Oh, no wait! You already do! You know me! Silly me… No, to get back to the point… I’m aware that I’m going on a limb here, that there will be those who are turning to their friend reading this over their shoulder and say “now can I call the men in white jackets to take her to a room padded walls?”, that if DD heard about this he’d disown me, that some of my closest friends may never speak to me again, that the Wall Street will be in turmoil…

I think Clint Eastwood is hot.

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Ugly people: denial or ignorance? Sunday, Feb 24 2008

First of all, I think it’s only fair to warn you all: I’m slightly drunk. My Friend With Huge Boobs * came over for some homemade lasagna and wine. The lasagna was very good. The wine was very very good. I sometimes surprise even myself at how good I am at picking wine. Anyways… I’m slightly drunk.

We somehow got into a discussion that included me replaying the whole “I’m ugly and you’re not a very good boyfriend because you agreed with me” -conversation I had had with BF. And we realised, that the only reason why I’m still even letting BF have his face (I know some really nice folks down at the Marines. Handy bunch of guys, actually. Besides, due to my cheerleading past I’m more that capable of doing my own ass-kicking so it wouldn’t even be necessary to call in the Marines.) is that I know I’m not really ugly. And on that thought, ugly people never complain about their looks!

Seriously, they don’t.

Naturally, this led to a lengthy discussion of whether it’s because they know they are ugly and have gotten used to that. They’ve given up. They’re ignoring the aesthetics of human nature. Or… are they just in denial that everyone has an external appearance and that theirs isn’t just so attractive?

Why is is that the only ones you hear complaining about their looks are the actually pretty ones?

Maybe it’s because you have to be shallow enough to care about looks in the first place to pay attention to them enough to care. And then to do something about it. You know, if you’re so shallow, that you notice you’re ugly, you care about looks enough to do something to your looks. Ergo, you’re no longer ugly. But if you’re not shallow, you don’t give a damn, and then you won’t complain about it either.

I resent that.

I refuse to believe that you can judge a persons shallowness by their looks. That’s prejudice. And we all know how well that works out, just think of Elizabeth Bennet. No wait! She got Mr. Darcy. A.k.a Colin Firth. Hmmm… there’s something wrong here… Hmmm… Which weakness of personality gets you George Clooney?

*remind me to credit this to TAB. It’s all her idea. I stole the nickname from her. She’s brilliant!

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Cute beyond words… Friday, Feb 22 2008

How cute is this!

 Read the whole story here.

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Email from My Friend Who Visits Third World Countries Friday, Feb 22 2008

Il était une fois une jeune fille qui demanda à un garçon s’il voulait se marier avec elle.
Le garçon dit “Non!”.

Et la jeune fille vécu toujours heureuse, sans laver, ni cuisiner, ni repasser pour personne, en sortant avec ses amies, en baisant celui qu’elle voulait, en travaillant et dépensant son argent comme elle le voulait.

*FIN*
Petites, on ne nous racontait pas de contes comme ça.
Et ils nous ont bien foutues dans la merde avec ce putain de prince charmant.

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More on ugly face and boobs Friday, Feb 22 2008

Putting on makeup and fighting with my face (Bad Face Day) reminded me of a conversation I had with BF over the holidays…

Me: I’m ugly.

BF (Having heard this Declaration of Ugliness a gazillion times): Yes, you are.

Me: What?!? You’ve really got to work on this whole boyfriend-thing. You’re not supposed to agree with me. You’re supposed to say “no, you’re not, it’s all in your head, you just think you do, but really, you look just perfect”. Got it?

BF: Yes.

Me: I’m ugly.

BF: No, you’re not, it’s all in your head, you just think you do, but really, you look just perfect.

Me: Aww, thank you! I love you. And I really think we’re going to make a good boyfriend out of you one day.

BF: I am a good boyfriend.

Me: No, you’re not. You said I’m ugly.

BF: I didn’t say you’re ugly.

Me: You agreed with me when I said I’m ugly. That’s the equivalent of saying I’m ugly.

BF: *dry voice, shaking his head* You should run for office.

* * * * *

The other day My Friend With Huge Boobs and I were chatting about shopping for lingerie (in the school cafe, no less!) The transcript would read something like this.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: Sometimes it’s really nice to shop for underwear. You find a ton of things and they fit. But sometimes, you can try on a huge pile of stuff and nothing fits! It’s so weird.

Me: I guess it depends on a day.(Note: I meant that some days you’re bloated, or you have your periods or something like that.)

My Friend With Huge Boobs: You mean, some days your boobs just won’t behave?

Me: *laughing* Yeah. Bad Boobs Day.

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Medical issues were just the beginning… Wednesday, Feb 20 2008

As it was brought to my attention by someone who shall remain unnamed for now (*cough*Sarah*cough*) that I was only getting abuse from My Friend With Huge Boobs, I thought I’d share some other stories of my friends… And really, it’s not all about giving me crap!

A friend of mine returned from her 4-month work trip from Sierra Leone. Upon arriving to Finland the temperature difference of 30 degrees had its effect on her skin, especially around her nose.

My Friend Who Visits Third World Countries: Mom, I really think my nose is falling off.

Her mom: The skin is just a bit dry, it’s not falling off.

My Friend Who Visits Third World Countries: *notices a funny patch of skin next to her knee* Mom, look at my knee. I think I have brain cancer.

Her mom: *not even looking at her knee* Good thing you didn’t choose med-school.

* * * * *

A random comment said way back by an old friend of mine, let’s call her A (that’s her initial, so there is actually some logic).

My Friend A: Do you know that my school looks like a space-ship on Google Earth?

* * * * *

BF and I weren’t even a couple yet, but we were good friends. I cooked dinner to our group of friends, and when the dessert was served (very simple, ice cream and chocolate sauce) he turned to me (to thank for the entire meal, I later found out).

BF: I think I just fell in love with you.

Me: Man, you’re easy. That’s just melted chocolate.

* * * * *

Another conversation with BF. I was snappy for some (really good) reason.

Me: Oh, drop the sad little puppy act, it doesn’t look good on you.

BF: *flirtatiously* I thought everything looked good on me.

Me: *huffing* Ha! In you dreams.

BF: You should know, you’re playing lead in most of them!

Me: *faking indignation* “Most”? Just “most“? I’m hurt, BF, I’m hurt. I should have thought I’m all you dream about.

BF: Yes, well, there are the Laker-girls.

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On our way to the cafeteria… Wednesday, Feb 20 2008

I stopped by at the ladies, and upon my return My Friend With Huge Boobs hands me a postcard.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: I saw these postcards here and this one made me think of you.

*she hands me the card*

The writing on the card: Do Finland a favor – leave the country.

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Walking out the classroom (some weeks ago) Tuesday, Feb 19 2008

My Friend With Huge Boobs: I just made a complete idiot out of myself.

*pause*

Me: I just ate lip balm.

*a long, incredulous look*

Me: What?! It was an accident!

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Conversation in the ladies at school Saturday, Feb 16 2008

Me: I had an Ugly Face Crisis today.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: A what??

Me: An Ugly Face Crisis. I had a crisis that my face was ugly.

My Friend With Huge Boobs: Oooh. Okay. *pause* What a surprise.

Me: What do you mean? That I often have an Ugly Face Crisis? Or that I often have an ugly face??

My Friend With Huge Boobs: You pick.

Me: *in a dry voice* I love you too, you know.

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Random likes: Prada Fringe Shoulder Bag Saturday, Feb 16 2008

Random Likes, one of the categories here, is just what it sounds like. It’s about something random, with no story behind it, with no consistance of updating or content, that I just happen to like. It could be a bag (like this time), or shoes, or makeup, or book, or a person… anything! As long as it’s, well, random.

I have to say, I love this bag: Prada black fringe lambskin flap shoulder bag

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