Of Always the Entertainer

“Let me entertain you, let me make you smile.” – Gypsy, Stephen Sondheim

Nicolas Cafe Valentine

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Valentine’s Day is the ultimate holiday of emotional abuse – at least, commercially. It’s the day that puts extreme pressure on those in a relationship whilst beating up the singletons with an emotional whip. No matter where you are in your love life – Valentine’s Day is gonna get you. It’s essentially the sniper of holidays.

As a single person, there are two types of advertisements that are geared in my direction:

  1. You are a strong independent female, you don’t need a man, not like those other weak girls with boyfriends. Pssh! Girl power!
  2. You are clearly desperate, lonely, and in need of some good lovin’. Here’s how to power through the day until your sad soul finds a man to make you complete.

The common thread here? Men are awful, BUT you kinda need one to be your best self. Not only do I not relate to these male focused ads because I’m a lesbian, but also because I disagree with HOW the men are supposed to function. They are either dooming the women, by making them be less than they are. Or they’ll rescuing the women, by pulling them out of their despair and into the light. Neither seems like a healthy start to a relationship, at least, not to me.

Here’s what I want in a partner: someone who will put on a show with me.
Silly, simple, and slightly nonsensical isn’t it?

I find that because I have a loud personality, a lot of the dates I go on feel like a performance. Which is not a fun feeling. I don’t enjoying having to interview someone in order to have a conversation.

In short, it often feels like this:

The women I’ve truly been smitten by have put on a show with me. The conversation flows easily and it’s clear that this person wouldn’t pull me down, nor life me up, they’d meet me in the middle.

Which, in my opinion, is how it should work. Of course people will have their ups and downs – that’s just common sense.¬†But if you’re gonna be with someone, they should be your equal. Not your savior or your baggage.

So to the currently yoked people.

  • Ignore the advertisements, you don’t need to spend a thousand dollars or whisk your partner away to paradise island. Just spend the evening together and dim the lights.

To the single people.

  • If you’re struggling, call your friends and celebrate yourselves. Bake something, play a game, build a fort, and just have fun.
  • If you’re not struggling, then you already know what to do. ūüôā

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Of Ugly Male Ponytails

Check out this “beautiful” hairstyle.

Ugly Man Ponytail

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I see this style of ponytail on at least three men a week. What I can’t figure out is why this hairstyle is appealing. If you understand or think that this is an attractive look please speak up in the comments section and try to sway my opinion.

From what I gather, these men aren’t actually balding – but they really wish they were. So they took tips from sumo wrestlers, bad¬†comb overs, and Donald Trump. Then proceeded to fashion their hair into a makeshift toupee. The stylish rat-tail dangling towards their neck serving as a whimsical touch. The tail also provides much-needed proof that their hair is not fake should they find the ladies are turned off but their “balding” appearance, and ponytail toupee¬†resting upon their head.

Of Sex on the Dance Floor

Couple at a night club

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Contrary to popular belief, the dance floor is not a place for love-making. Now, I’m aware that most people who go out at night on the weekends are either actively or unconsciously hoping to meet that¬†special someone. Someone amazing and attractive, ideally someone wealthy, heading somewhere in life, and/or an outstanding dancer. Does this mean that you should throw your lower bits at them in order to gain attention? Negative, keep that to yourself.

Thankfully (for the most part) people are semi-subtle about their desires, or at the very least not perverse, and remain respectful to other human beings.

Then there’s those that make me want to gag.

Because I always end up at straight clubs I’m literally there to dance, drink, and be merry – I don’t plan or even try to meet ladies, not that I wouldn’t like to, it’s just not really much of an option unless I want to go out alone or drive to Seattle. So when I see the girls walk in with their tight TIGHT mini skirts, five-inch heels, and drinking their blue drinks I can’t help but think (and usually say) a whore’s¬†arrived. Shallow and¬†judgmental? probably. Natural and¬†reasonable¬†response? I think so.¬†These are the desperate ladies trying to use their sexuality to attract men in the way that women are drawn to shiny objects.

Last Saturday I was out with Erin, we were starting the party – as usual. When I looked up I saw a girl in high heels and a purple mini dress that was riding up past crotch level and her dress was starting to slide down. She was grinding on a guy who was rubbing her nipples over her dress. She seemed to take no notice on how fucking creepy that was. Eventually she got pulled away by someone and the nipple rubbing guy looked PISSED and sat down staring at the dancing people. I swear he was glaring at the dance floor from that moment until I left for a different club. I was honestly fearful of what he was capable of.

It’s normal to see a¬†groping¬†couple on the floor, a slutty desperate drunk chick walking around, and an aggressive male trying to get some ass – but not to that extent.

So I repeat, please save your sexy-time for your bedroom – or at least the bathroom stall.

Boo You Whore

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Of the Marvelous Gene Kelly

Gene Kelly

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It’s no secret that I’ll always have a huge crush on Gene Kelly. It’s a shame he’s deceased. I would happily murder the majority of celebrities just to bring him back into the world *cough* Justin Bieber, *cough* Kim Kardashian. I’ve been in love with him ever since I watched Singing in the Rain¬†for the first time when I was a child. What can I say? I was a classy ass five-year old, I’m very proud that he was my first celebrity crush.

I always wanted to be Kathy Selden aka Debbie Reynolds

The other night I was watching¬†An American in Paris, and this rekindled my fondness for the beautiful Gene Kelly and the musical genre as a whole. He’s graceful and yet completely masculine in his motions, it’s like he can control gravity. One can’t help but smile when he is on-screen, especially when he’s dancing. At the same time he wasn’t afraid to be a bit silly.¬†He’s credited with creating the American Musical Genre, which unfortunately is no longer brought forth in modern-day movies. There’s a reason why those movies are classics, why they are timeless – my heart belongs to the musicals of the late 40s – early 60s and it always will. Haters be damned.

Fred Astaire was the¬†gentleman,¬†Gene Kelly was the¬†boy next door. Or as Bob Fosse once said, “He looked like a guy on your bowling team, only classier.” In hindsight maybe Gene Kelly (and yes, I do always say his full name) is where I got my obsession with class from. The quote below is from Time Entertainment magazine – I couldn’t express the differences between the two men better than this if I tried:

In the two men, oppositions abound. Fred was grace, Gene was energy. Fred was poise, Gene was power. Fred was ethereal, Gene was earthy. Fred was the Continental (he danced it too); Gene was all-American. Fred was top hat, white tie and tails, Gene was a baseball cap, T-shirt and jeans. (Can you imagine Astaire in a baseball cap? Can you imagine Kelly without one?) Fred would just materialize, a slim apparition who hardly noticed the impact he made; his attitude said, in a sidelong glance and sidewise murmur, “Ooh, is someone out there?” Gene came barreling toward you, arms outstretched in ‚ÄĒ not supplication, never that ‚ÄĒ an offer his smile told you he thought you couldn’t refuse.

– Richard Coliss (article)

Is it any wonder I prefer Gene Kelly? Even if for shallow reasons alone, I doubt most will disagree that Fred Astaire was never a beautiful man. I sent out a mass text to my friends with vaginas asking who they thought the sexiest male celebrity was, here’s the bulk of the answers:

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Ryan Gosling, David Beckham, Lee Pace, Jason Statham, Jake Gyllenhaal, Trey Songz, Jude Law, Zac Efron, Brad Pitt, Michael Cera

While it’s not in question that these men are attractive, the majority of them don’t have the kind¬†of attractive that transcends decades. Most of them have that look of trying¬†to be sexy. Some I disagree about them being the sexiest male celebrity, cute sure, attractive yes, but sexy? hmm, not really. I’ll let you judge on that for yourselves.

Gene Kelly is not sexy, he’s beyond that – he’s handsome. To call him sexy seems like an injustice, sexy implies a fleeting heart-throb, or the kind of human being that makes ones mind instantly think something along the not-so-classy lines of, “I’d¬†tap that,” or “I wanna lick him/her,” or “I wanna fuck him/her,” or “Damn baby! You a model or something?”

Like I said, Gene Kelly is classy, he makes you fall in love with him, not just lust after him. He’s handsome. If you want proof, look at these wonderful pictures of the late, great, Gene Kelly!

Gene Kelly - Singing in the Rain

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Gene Kelly, Ballet from Broadway Melody

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Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds

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Gene Kelly Close Up

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Gene Kelly, Donald O'Conner - dancing gif

Plus … he could do that! (Click image to view source.)

Of the Prince Charming Epidemic

James Marsden in Enchanted

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Lyric’s come into being because someone felt, remembered, or dreamt something. As I’ve gotten older it these songs start to bare weight. I’m not saying that they make me nostalgic or that they remind me of better days. None of that sappiness. What’s irritating me is that I have one, count it one, person to link all the love songs to. Well, I dated a little in high school. But those relationships were far from meaningful. I don’t count those.

So … yeah … one.

By no means does this thought make me want him back and by no means do these memories make me sad. What it does is make me want a new, um … “special someone”… so to speak.

I’m officially over the single thing. Problem is – I’m a bad dater. I don’t notice when men flirt with me (unless they set off my creeper radar). My friends (and mom) tell me, “he was totally hitting on you” and I reply, “I had no idea.” I’m terrible at letting my feeling be known, even to myself. I lie to my brain thinking “Nooooo not him, I don’t like him.” Of course once it’s past the point of opportunity that’s when I realize “Huh, yep definitely liked him. Damn.” Then there’s my extreme independence. I do like being on my own. I’ve never been boy crazy – still not boy crazy (I don’t understand hyperventilating because a semi-attractive human being with a penis walked in the room). And regardless of horniness, I respect myself to much to sleep with a stranger or someone I am not interested in dating. That behavior just doesn’t mesh with my personality. If I were to suddenly be boy crazy and started sleeping around. My friends would worry. Though if that’s you’re personality power to ya, as long as your safe (condoms and such).

Thus I don’t actively pursue romance. Rather I wait and hope it comes floating by, glittering in the sky. And I’ll see the something shiny (all girls love shiny things) and grab it.

When I was younger my list of things required for a potential mate was crazy long. The shallowness of a Christian youth. Now that I’m older and “he has to love Jesus” isn’t on my list I really only care about four things: handsome, taller than me, funny, and willing to go Blues and Swing Dancing with me. End of list. I don’t think it’s impossible. I’ve met versions of him. Of course, he’s always taken but it does provide hope for us ladies. Settling is never an option.

Purpose of this rant: I’d like to have more than one human being to link songs to. I’d also like to stop day dreaming about the impossible.

Face it ladies. Prince Charming doesn’t exist. Fuck you Disney!

Things don’t turn out like romantic comedies.

And I have no idea why so many of you love Pride and Prejudice, personally I can’t finish the book (I’ve tried three times, never got past page 50). But I did watch the four-hour movie with Colin Firth and frankly Mr. Darcy doesn’t exist either. Why would you want him to? I’m sick of this “he’s so romantic and such a gentlemen” bullshit. Okay let us review: he thought he was better than the Bennet’s, he was cold and rude, convinced his friend to dump Elizabeth’s sister, made a rash proposal insulting Elizabeth in the process, but girls love him … I guess because he paid their families way out of ruin? I don’t know. P&P fans out there feel free to defend your precious Jane Austen. Just know that I will never agree with you. One of my dearest friend’s has a Jane Austen action figure complete with desk and quill – even she has never convinced me that Jane Austen is amazing.

Yep, definitely ready for a new romantic phase in my life. Not Prince Charming. Not necessarily Mr. Right.

Just Mr. Right Now.

Of Big Hair With a Little Face

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Attention people (mostly men) with narrow heads.

Please stop growing out your poofy hair.

And find a hair style that amplifies your beauty instead of giving you the appearance of a cartoon character.

It makes you look disproportioned and awkward.

It also makes you look super young.

And it gives me cause to make fun of you in my head.

That is all!