She's got the gifts of one liners, and the curse of curves.

So it's that time of the year again,the major holidays are over, summer is creeping around the seasonal corner, and my skinny jeans are tighter than Snoop in a Cadillac. Now, before people get defensive and offended let me qualify the rest of this blog with this statement- I understand I am not obese in any way, shape, or form, but after wishing I could grease my thighs to get my jeans on this morning, I realized that late night pizza and cook-out shakes, were probably contributing to the food baby bumb growing on my child-bearing hips. So, to remedy this problem I have decided to go back to the gym and "eat healthier" which as we all know, is a euphemism for giving up all things delicious. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy a nice whole wheat bread and a cup of yogurt, but let's be honest, neither one holds a candle to a fresh baked brownie.

Yet, every time I jump back on the healthy bandwagon, I, for whatever reason, ask myself how June Clever kept her girlish figure? Did the house wives of the 50s put on a modest jogging suit, run around the block at a clip, and then come home just in time to throw on some pumps, and baste the turkey? In the midst of this Tim Burton daydream of a Norman Rockwell lifestyle, I remember that these women may not have had fancy gyms or even a pair of tennis shoes, but they did have a secret weapon: a healthy societal body image.

Have you ever seen a pin-up girl? A real one, not a painting, from the 40s, 50s, or 60s? They're gorgeous! They're round, and curvy, and voluptuous, hell, they look so good they made men wanna fight for their country! And the most attractive part about them is that they were real women. They weren't air brushed or spray tanned, they didn't suck, tuck, or shake weight, they just let their bodies do the talkin while men all over the world drooled. It's poetic really. :)

But sadly, this is no longer the case, well, not usually. And ladies, it's really not guys fault. Some may complain, but most (as I have said before) are great guys that think we're beautiful and enjoy a little something to grab onto. We are really our toughest critiques. We pinch, poke, and squeeze, imagining that things are bigger than they are, continuously drawing mustaches on Victoria Secret Models to tame the green eyed monster welling up within. When in fact, there is nothing wrong with us. Did you know that at least once a week women mentally add five pounds to the weight they see in the mirror?!Why do we do it? I mean, it doesn't make us happy.It doesn't do anything for our self-esteem, and if 9 times out of 10, guys think we look fine, then really, what's the point of beating ourselves up on the reg?

One of my favorite quotes of all time is from the movie Eat, Pray, Love inspired by the book written by Elizabeth Gilbert. As Elizabeth and her Swedish friend Sophie sit in a pizzeria in Naples, each devouring their own pie, Elizabeth asks Sophie if she wants another. Sophie balks at the idea. She says she's been gaining weight and her and her boyfriend have started to get more serious so she really shouldn't if she's going to be expected to get naked soon. Before she can make up another excuse however, Elizabeth looks to her and says "Has any man every run away after you've taken your clothes off? No. They've reached their goal and they're not turning back once the gettin is good." And then, they each have another pizza.

Having struggled with my weight all of my life, even at one point battling an eating disorder (which is a lot more common in teenage girls than even the media would have you believe), I know disliking your body can pretty much ruin your life. But I'm done stressing over it, I think we all should be. So,I'm buying new skinny jeans and taking one from June,Elizabeth, and the countless women that lined the foot lockers of both World Wars, and letting the curves do the talking. I'll still go to they gym and probably lay off the 2am pizza, but only because I want to prolong my life span lol. I refuse however, to pinch, cinch, suck, poke, prode, or squeeze, because I think it's time we started to love ourselves again, brownies and all. :)

Good Girls Go Bad

Women, for whatever reason, are always attracted to what society likes to call "bad boys". We do. We love their dominant demeanor, their broody personalities, and of course, their wild, care-free, seemingly invincible out-look on life. They make us feel protected and their wily ways make us feel like we must tame them. They are a challenge, a mystery, and incredibly sexy. They're what we dream about, and, 99% of the time they're the reason we cry ourselves to sleep, become best friends with Ben and Jerry, and question/despise everything we ever loved about ourselves. Because, sexy or not, they're, for lack of a more eloquent phrase, douche bags. And lately, they seem to have multiplied in number,infecting the masses faster than swine flu and breaking more hearts than McDonald's. The cause of this epidemic? A little ol' phrase I've heard muttered by some of the most outstanding men in this world- "Nice guys finish last" (minds out of the gutter please, this is serious business).

Every time I hear a fine upstanding gentlemen tell me they regret their chivalrous ways and kind heart, because girls walk all over them and end up dating/sleeping with/marrying a leather clad *insert foul slang word for male genitalia* I am incensed!
"What is wrong with these women?" I exclaim. "Don't they understand that you think they're perfect in every way and their prick of a boyfriend critiques them into shamed submission?!"

But,as true as my blunt ejaculations are, they make me a hypocrite, because I too continuously chase after the bad boys. I pray, beg, and plead even, for love to come my way. I cry out to the heavens "Dear God! Bring me a man like Bruno Mars who will love me just the way I am! Who will catch a grenade for me even if I kiss him with my eyes wide open!" And now, in hindsight of course because no one ever sees clearly any other way, I see that God has given me many Brunos to fawn over. Attractive men. Strong men. Sexy Men! Men that have lofty goals and ambitions! who are genuinely good people that just want to find a girl and make her happy. To give her the world on a silver platter. They even want to be faithful! I mean, these guys are the real deal, shining armour and everything.

And I always wrote them off, as so many of us do, because they were so easy to love. There was no fight for acceptance, no dysfunction to re-figure, and no guess work. Oh,the money I could have saved on daises with these men! Never having to sit for hours anxiously chanting "he loves me, he loves me not".But time and time again, I walked away from happiness and strode into the steroid assisted arms of confliction and low self-esteem. Because, for whatever reason, our culture has brain washed me and my fellow females to believe that if you aren't fighting, or if you aren't working at it, your relationship is almost, indefinitely broken. So we seek out challenges we never win and, most unfortunately, break the sweetest of hearts.

So this blog is an apology to all the good guys out there. To the white horse riding, armour clad, dragon slaying men who have been fooled, by many women, into believing they "just aren't good enough"; I am truly sorry. You are never given enough credit and always seem to get the short end of the stick. You get cheated on, used, heck, you might even have been abused, and you most definitely finish last. But, only because God saves the best for last. For, after we've had enough of the bad boy blues, we come back, battle scarred and bedraggled, begging you to give us another chance, dying to be rescued from our tower. And, then, after many more apologies and a few dinners before and after a couple dozen movies, you live happily ever after.

Jays or Stilettos, I'm always Barefoot.

I'm a feminist. I believe in equality. But, I'm also not easily fooled, and ladies and gentlemen, it is my inherent belief that women everywhere are hoodwinking society into believing they truly want equality when really, they want their own set or rules. Confused? Allow me to explain.

When women wanted the right to vote, they did everything in their power to make it happen. Now, women vote just as much, maybe even more than men. In this respect, women are equal.

When women wanted to go into the work force, they fought and are still fighting to get payed just as much as men doing the same jobs. In this respect, women are becoming equal.

When women wanted to join the military however, they made their own rules. They decided that there had to be, for lack of a better term, "easier" physical requirements because they were weaker than men. They decided that even though they wanted to serve when they chose too, being excluded from the draft was just dandy. And, when women decided they had the right to attend the academies, they shouldn't be exposed to the traditional hazing and ludicrously strict and uniform environment, because they were women. They needed privacy from each other in the bathrooms, blinds on their windows so as not to tempt peeping toms, and yet again, they should not be expected to physically perform on the same standards as the men at their institution.

I know someone is going to hate me for saying this, but that is not, by any means, equality. In fact, as a feminist, I am disgusted. Not only are military men and the male students at the academies held to higher standards only because they are men and women do not feel capable enough to meet said standards; neither the men, nor the women at the academies, are receiving the education they signed up for. Take VMI for example. The last military academy to remain males only. It was an institution grounded in tradition, formed on brotherhood, and revered for it's commitment to the scrupulous training of young men who wished to serve their country. They had rules that did not allow doors or stalls in the bathroom, showers were open and communal, blinds were never installed on windows, beds were rolled each day to avoid napping, freshmen or "rats" were hazed in good humor by upperclassmen, and traditionally, before the rats graduated to sophomores, they had to climb a steep mudded hill to both literally and symbolically join the upperclassmen on the other side. These things, along with many others, made VMI, VMI. When women joined, all of this changed, therefore making VMI less than what it was. So really, women aren't even receiving the education they wanted so badly to be a part of because it has been watered down to accommodate them. Again, this is not equality.

Now, women in the armed forces want to be allowed in submarines. Historically they have been excluded because having men and women in close quarters with each other almost always leads to more passengers if you know what I'm saying. I would have no problem with a co-ed submarine slumber party, if women also wanted to be allowed to be drafted. Or, if they were striving to meet male physical requirements, but the cold hard truth is that they aren't. Everything is on female terms, and I can't stand it.

Equality for women will not come if we simply try to fill men's shoes or cobble them down to fit our feet, but when we fill their shoes and then start designing our own.

In historically male professions, we're going to have to play by their rules to get any kind of credit, to eventually "design our own shoes", just as men in historically female professions have to play by our rules to design theirs.

Only after these steps have been taken can I dream of a world when I no longer have to worry about who's shoes I'm wearing, because I'm going barefoot on my own path that I have forged, not by bending the trail to my will, but by stumbling through the brambles and transforming into a stronger woman by the time I reach my destination.