Ch-ch-ch-changes for Teh Blog

1) Summertime has come into my life. The school year has ended, and I'm a free women -- until the 22nd, when I start up an intense French 101 course at my local community college. That aside, I've come to realize that, with my days being so freed up without the burden of a regular school schedule, I should probably get more on top of doing regular blog posts (And there was much rejoicing . . . Yay! Yay!). I won't promise anything, because that's never worked in the past (oops -- *wrist slap*), but I'm earnestly going to try to update twice a week: Mondays and Thursdays around 3 am GMT.

2) I run short on ideas. That hampers my ability to produce blogs that will satisfy my perfectionism and amuse/provoke thoughtfulness in you. That being said: PLEASE TELL ME TOPICS YOU'D LIKE ME TO WRITE ABOUT. Please, please, please make a comment with any and all ideas you have for a post, either with your Blogger account or anonymously. This will make it easier for me to turn out fast and quality work (you might be surprised with the amount of time it takes to formulate and shape an idea), as well as providing an opportunity for you to get what you want out of this blog.

With that, I sign off. I love my readers, all one and a half of you!

Superficial or Decisive?

I am a staunch subscriber to the idea that beauty if in the eye of the beholder. If someone were to ask me my biggest celebrity crushes right now I would say Robert Downey, Jr. and David Bowie; I think the most attractive women in Hollywood are Rachel Weisz and Gwyneth Paltrow. I've had people comment before on how there seems to be a discontinuity in my perception of beauty, and this is because my attraction to someone has very little to do with physical appearance, and almost everything to do with personality and what that entails. (Click here for a more complete entry on what I find attractive.)

Given that, take everything I'm about to tell you with a grain of salt. I've had a request to do a post on what I find attractive on the basest of levels, all ethics and interaction aside.


Onward and forward:

Males: I love men with large eyes. Shining, clear pools that draw you immediately to them without dominating the face. Blue eyes, especially -- I watch shows from the BBC with my family, and -- So. Many. People. Have. Blue. Eyes. Gah! It's like stealing a piece of heaven every time someone looks at the camera. I don't particularly care if a guy shapes his brows, as long as it's not too obvious.

The color of hair doesn't matter nearly as much as the cut, though I have found myself partial to blonds and medium-browns.

I couldn't find very good photos (the one on the top-left is especially crap), but David Bowie has the most gorgeous hair in the world -- just take my word for it.

It's very hard to say what I find handsome in a face, because so much of it has to do with disposition and character. However, I do like strong bone structure -- high cheekbones, squared jaw. A nice smile is certainly attractive, though I've realized that I don't particularly like full lips on a man; average, maybe even a little thin, is very nice. Dimples are adorable. I consider a straight or slightly aquiline nose preferable. Clear skin, of course, is very important, and I love it pale or lightly tanned, which I know sets me far apart from Hollywood's standard of beauty.

I'm not into a built up body on a man. I, like other girls I know, enjoy a lithe and lightly-muscled physique. The chest is most important, then arms, then legs, then abs. I find broad shoulders and tall frame attractive, but that's just because I'm relatively tall myself.

The big question, of course, is body hair. I am a huge supporter of men keeping their body hair, drawing the line at bear-like chest carpets and back hair. As I've mentioned on this blog before, chest hair can be extremely alluring in that I-am-man kind of way.

Females: My views of female beauty differ greatly from that of male. I'm not sure why, but I find very petite women with large eyes, full lips, and understated curves to be very beautiful (in a totally objective way, you understand).

I like dark hazels and dark browns best on women, which is odd because I'm usually adverse to brown eyes on men, and am most attracted to light eye colors. I've also come to appreciate females who have light or medium tans. I definitely prefer brunettes (ignore the weirdness of this statement, please), which is also strange because I like very few shades of brown on men.

In another category altogether, I'm fascinated by African women. I don't really know what, exactly, I find so beautiful about them. I think it has to do with the fact that their features can be so drastically different than the Caucasians I'm used to, and their skin so very dark. I was surprised when I realized this about myself, as I'm only ever attracted to men of European descent.

Obviously, my section of females will be shorter, and I don't make a point of dallying on the rainbow road.


Hope you enjoyed reading my perspective on physical appearance. If you agree or disagree with me I'd love for you to comment, even if you aren't on Blogger -- anonymous commenting is enabled. I find the human form a marvelous work of art, and I love discussing it (in an appreciatively objective way ;-) ).

Ciao.

Let's Face It, Bella Swan: You're Gonna Get Stuck With Eric

I find it tremendously funny how our culture has entered into a mindset for romance. It used to be that two characters who fell in love stood in similar lights in the eyes of society. I've come to realize, however, that this paradigm has shifted: We now create stories in which a mildly pretty, mature, sweet but sarcastic, intelligent girl -- who, though liked well enough by the majority, is no less considered strange -- lands the hero whom all the females desire.

Now, in principle, I don't have a huge problem with this. A writer myself, I understand that sometimes you need to appeal to the strongest base of readers (i.e. insecure teeny-boppers with hopelessly romantic spirits), but it's gotten to the point where I have to wonder: Are you even writing this for an audience anymore? While it's true that fiction (be it in a movie, book, or otherwise) is escapism, and therefore must, by and large, offer appealing scenarios, I think we've come to the point where we've not only surpassed "too much of a good thing," but dragged it into an alley kicking and screaming and brutally beat it to death with a two-by-four just to steal its lunch money.

NO! DOES NOT COMPUTE!

It seems to me that no self-respecting artist would continue to play on such a vaguely grating cliche unless they themselves have a personal investment in the story.

There's a fine line between unrealistic and fantasy escapism. One thing I've come to realize in my years of reading and writing is that authors are supposed to appeal to emotions, not (necessarily) situations. Simply put, you want the characters to act like real people even if they aren't in the same positions as them. (Your heroine is a rock star-by-day, vampire-by-night, polyglot psychoanalyst studying for her Master's at Cambridge? Fine, but does she eat a bowl of ice cream and cry over 10 Things I Hate About You when her boyfriend dumps her? Lovely, moving on.)

Let's be frank(er) for a moment: There is no way, in this world or the next, that a passably attractive, kind, academically-minded girl with an affinity for Native American tribal masks is going to wind up dating the quarterback, so let's stop pretending. There's sympathetic and there's insulting, and continuously shoving this plot down our throats consistently falls into the latter.

What I've come to believe is that, as very clearly illustrated in books such as Twilight, the writer places him- or herself into the story as the protagonist, and we're pulled through all the experiences and fantasies that could never be lived out in the real world. If this is the case: Come on people, this is pathetic. We're supposed to keep insecure delusions locked up with the princess owns form our fifth birthday.

Yes, yes -- Edward only ignored Bella because he was badly in love with her. Heheh, that's right -- right. The football captain just loved Stepheni e -- he was madly, possessively, dangerously in love with her! That's why he always glared at her in biology . . . *le sob*

How it would really go:

DaBo says: Don't believe the lies. Hot people date hot people, ugly people date ugly people, and never the twain shall meet.

Mariah stared at him through the hazy glow of the setting sun. Everything seemed perfect, somehow, despite what she had been feeling earlier. The fluid pull of his muscles as he ran, the hard look of content concentration on his face . . . she hardly knew him, and yet, she felt like everything important had already been revealed to her. AP History with Anthony had shown Mariah that jocks could have brains. She was m omentarily distracted as he ran a hand through his glistening raven hair. It was unfair, she mused, that someone should be blessed with such a heady meld of body and mind such as he.

Tentatively, Mariah stood from her spot on the bleachers and walked toward the parking lot, careful to be quiet. She wasn't sure she could live down having Anthony catch her watching him.

"Hey, wait up!"

Mariah froze, her breath leaving her in a whoosh of trepidation and excitement. That voice -- his voice. She turned slowly, heart skipping a beat as she locked eyes with him -- brown on green. His full lips pulled apart to reveal a beautifully lopsided smile.

"Aren't you in history with me?"

She nodded wordlessly, the ability to speak running off with her racing heart. He stepped closer now, and she could smell the earth and sweat on him, mixing seamlessly with his innate masculinity.

Her back was against the wall now, his face mere inches from hers. She clutched her books tightly to her chest, lips parted and eyes heavy as her breath came in rapid spurts.

"Mariah, right, I knew I knew you! We're doing that assignment together, yeah?"

Her eyes flew open, blinking rapidly as she tried to process why his lips hadn't connected with hers yet.

"Right, right. Hey, look, I promised my girlfriend that I'd take her out tonight, but I can't if I have to do that paper thing, so I was wondering if maybe you could do my part for me, yeah? I don't wanna make my angel mad." He flashed another diamond-dusted grin.

"Guh-I-ummmm . . ."

"Sweet! Thank you so much!"

"Buh . . . wah -- no?" She tried to form a coherent sentence as her eyes assessed his retreating form.

"Catch ya later, bookworm!"

"Wait! No, I can't do that! I have piano --" Her exclamations were cut short as the passing cheerleading squad knocked her down, kicking her into the wall in their oblivious excitement and haste.

The darkness closed in as shouts of "Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?!" drew tears from her eyes.

In Which I Whine, and You Get To Listen Because I Love You

Sometimes I wish I could be beautiful. Traffic-stopping, breathtaking, silence-inducing, can-I-buy-you-a-drink beautiful. Judging by the copious aesthetic enhancement products on the market, I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. Now, I don't consider myself a particularly vain person -- sure, I have my moments (don't we all?), and I certainly take pride in my appearance (though not excessively), but I don't taunt and flaunt what the good Lord gave me . . . such as it is. :P Still, I find myself wondering what it would be like to be one of "them."

Yes, you're gorgeous -- now go hide in a corner.

Is it as flawless a life as it seems? Logically, I can tell myself no with just a sweep over the tabloids. But a little voice -- that niggling, soft, shallow voice in the back of my mind -- says that it would be different: It would be perfect. Could you imagine the dizzying power of having the male (or female) population at your beck and call? It would be sickening and delightful, I'm sure.

I'll confess something to you: You know that girl who everyone stares at when she walks into a room, and keep casting glances at her throughout all of class? I've always wanted to be her, even as a little girl. I don't know what that says about me. Naturally, I wouldn't change who I am intrinsically to become "her," but it's a nice little daydream to dredge up on boring days. Tell me I'm not alone?

I think I'll expound a bit on this last thought. There are different types of "her," of course: vapid but fun, self-absorbed and spiteful, shy and unaware, manipulative and outgoing . . . -- all beautiful. I find it odd how few very attractive people have truly balanced personalities. Nearly all of them can be cubbyhole-d within the first ten minutes of initial interaction. I find it a sad but inevitable fate for the majority of beauties. (Btw, this is the part where my daydream starts to waver, and the notion that's it's probably better not to look like an angel wiggles in.)

Oh, don't leave yet! I'm sure I could muster up some more self esteem for you to destroy.

Despite the obvious dissatisfaction stunning stars in the news have with life, I can't help but override my natural aversion to their personalities, and focus on their sculpted appearances. What would it be like to put on dress after dress and embody perfection every time? What would it feel like to have thousands of people telling you how beautiful you are on the streets, on the internet, in interviews, in magazines?

There are many times I wish I could have this life, just for one day. God knows I'd probably be disillusioned of the whole idea within two hours, but I'd like to experience it nonetheless, just to be able to say, "yes, I am soul-crushingly attractive and you hate me but you can't look away, can you?"

P.S. Yes, I know that life isn't all it's cut out to be, and no, I wouldn't change who I am or what I look like to anything in the world.

P.P.S. Wow, this post was all over the place, huh? Well, I blame the late hour for causing me to emotionally vomit all over the screen. I'll try to make things more fluid next time around.



OMG no DaBo? Will mend!

No need to thank me, ma'am, it's all in the line of duty.

Well That Was a Tree Solution

Listen closely, dear readers, for I have coined a new phrase. A brilliant and spicy new phrase that I hope to soon spread nationwide.

The shiny new idiom I speak of is a tree solution.

A definition for you:

tree solution (trē səˈloō sh ən): n. a thoughtless and unnecessary solution to another individual's problem that is acted upon, and though solving the immediate problem, results in more difficulties for the individual

I've taken this, of course, from the Greek myth of Apollo and Daphne. If you're unfamiliar with the story, the gist of it is that the god Apollo lusted after a nymph, Daphne, though she despised him. When he pursued her, she ran in fright, and when he nearly caught her she called upon her father for help. To save her from Apollo, her father turned her, irreversibly, into a tree.

So therefore, it is a tree solution. She's safe from Apollo's bed, but has to stay a tree forever. Yay.

No tree solution here, just prettiness. (Jareth!)
If you haven't seen Labyrinth, I suggest you watch it now, though not around impressionable young children.

It's Because I Want To Help You

I've decided it's time to step in and stop boys' (adorable) desperate flailing when it comes to being in a relationship. Although it can be sort of endearing how much they want to succeed, I think everyone involved would agree that it would be easier to just lay out a fool-proof list to win the heart of a girl. Obviously, because I am (usually) only one person, I can only list what my expectations are, but I believe that they ring true for most every woman. (Keep in mind that, as a Christian, my faith will be pervasive throughout my list. This is likely the major difference between what I consider important and what woman of other faiths or none at all do.)

David Bowie is my favorite boy right now, even though he fails about a third of my list (and is 62 *cough*).

1) He must be a Christian.

I don't care how good-looking, smooth-talking, suave or rich he is, if the man has not dedicated his life to Christ I will not give him a second glance. Because of my own weaknesses, I know that if I don't have a boyfriend who will uphold my faith then I may just lose it. It is vitally important that this does not happen. Therefore, a living faith has definitely scored numero uno on my list. (Not to mention that, as it happens, most of the true Christian guys I meet are smarter, nicer and funnier than the non-Christians, but I suppose those perks just come with the territory ;-).)

2) He must be intelligent.

I do not necessarily mean on tests (though it would be nice), but the person I choose to date must be obviously bright. I hate having to put up with pointless, dull conversations with people who have horridly limited vocabularies. You know the kind I mean, the ones who think "socialism" is a big word. Yeah. Gag me with a spork. It ma y, regrettably, be a streak of superiority that runs in me, but, whatever the case, the only people I can really become friends with are i ntellectuals of some flavor. I'm smart, and therefore he must be smart too.

3) He must be a conservative.

And yes, I do mean in terms of political alignment. I could never, not ever stand even sharing the same breathing space in a political debate with a devout liberal. Considering the world I've been raised in, politics have becom e very important to me. I do not care if he is Republican-conservative or Democratic-conservative -- because really, party affiliation means little at the base of things -- but if he is green, liberal, anarchist . . . anything besides conservative, I will leave him in a second flat. Knowing my idealistic self and how important those who influence America are to me, I could never put up with a boyfriend who did not support my political beliefs. (I would tell you why, but I'd just start hating on the liberal agenda and that isn't the time for that.) Having someone to analytically and intelligently discuss the news with without fear of a smackdown is always nice, too. :-)

So, admittedly, a terrible haircut, but the golden tan and toned pecs more than make up for it, right?

4) He must be ambitious and have potential/be successful.

I grouped these two together because I think in a quality man following what God wants him to do the two go hand in hand. I could never date someone who wasn't a visionary. I don't care if he's doing great when I meet him (I don't want him to be broke, mind you, I just don't care if he's the next Bill Gates or not), but he ne eds to show that he at least has the ability to keep a steady job that earns a decent amount of money while working for bigger and better things. I don't want his dreams to be something like opening a burger shack, but if his only ambition is to find an acceptable, well-paying job at some office and raise a happy family, I'm perfectly h appy with supporting him in that. I just want him to have a dream of contentment and see him actively pursuing it.

5) He must have a sense of pride.

"Dignity" might be the better word to use. I can't date a guy with low self-esteem. Because of some of my co-dependent habits I will be constantly trying to encourage him and it will become annoying and our relationship will go down in flames. He must have an appropriate sense of achievement and pride in what he's done -- con fidence, I suppose. Confidence and the ability to accept the good he's done instead of brushing accomplishments off like they're nothing. This might sound insignificant, but you try spending five minutes with a guy who says you're lying to make him feel better whenever you point out something nice about him. Every. Single. Time. You'll be ready to commit an armed robbery, believe me.

6) He must have a sense of humor.

Most intelligent people I know have senses of humor, but I thought I should make it its own number just 'cause humor is so important to me. If he can't make me laugh then he's not worth my time. Albeit, it's not hard to make me laugh, but to make a well-timed, tasteful joke, give a cute, quirky grin, and laugh along with me is something special. He'll have to be able to laugh at his own jokes (not obnoxiously, of course, but it refers back to confidence to acknowledge something intelligent and enjoyable he's said). Along with a sense of humor must also come the ability to laugh at himself. Not in a degrading way, but he just can't take himself too seriously. When I meet a guy who can laugh off a stupid mistake he's made, my faith will be fully restored in the male species.

"What does ravish mean?" Very young an (ostensibly) innocent -- you can't fool us, Bowie.
On a side note, I have this insane urge to paint henna tattoos on his stomach.

7) He must value relationships.

I don't mean he has to be the most romantic guy around, but he has to be able to see and accept that when you enter into a relationship there's testing out the waters first, of course, but if we're going steady I want him to act like it. This could mean we hold each other up in prayer, share our troubles, or offer advice without being critical. He must be involved -- this does not mean spending every waking minute with me. That would be creepy; there has to be room to breathe. But I expect him to introduce me to his friends (as I will introduce him to mine) and at least do something like hold my hand or put an arm around me in public. He has to understand that there will be problems and he must be willing to work through those with me and bring God into it. He has to be dedicated, I suppose, in short.

8) He must be sensitive.

I don't mean one of those guys who cries at the sun setting because "it's just so beautiful, man." That just sort of . . . worrying. But he can't be cold. I don't care if he acts detached in public really as long as he's able to open up and contemplate deeper things while we're in private or with close friends. He must be in touch with his emotions and ready to share how he's feeling with me. If I care enough about a person to date him, then naturally I'll be curious as to how he's faring emotionally, and offer help if I can.

9) He must like kids.

I don't really need to explain this much. I just think it's weird and a turn-off when people don't like the cheerful innocence kids -- I automatically get creepy, mean vibes from people like that.

Odd pose, but quite attractive . . . . quite attractive . . .

10) He must be clean cut.

Not a lot to this one, really: respectful of females, polite in formal situations, drug- and alcohol-free, polite to my parents and friends, physically composed (wears clean clothes that fit, brushes teeth and hair on a daily bases, takes regular and frequent showers), devoid of any criminal record, etc. Okay, so maybe there are a few things, but certainly nothing outlandish.

Here come the last four and the most superficial:

11) He must be taller than me.

I never really thought this was important to me until I imagined myself dancing with a guy three inches shorter than me. However shallow you may say it is, I would be embarassed to be seen with him. Just a few inches makes all the difference in the world.

12) He must have a nice smile.

I do not mean a million-dollar moviestar smile. It just really irks me to look at uneven, yellowed teeth, much less kiss a man with them. He just has to have good dental hygeine and relatively even teeth. I know, I know: superficial, but it really is a must for me. Don't ask me why, because I'm not completely sure myself.

Lalalala -- he can't hear you!

13) He must have nice eyes.

I just can't stand having to look at someone's piggy, watery eyes. It makes me sad. Even if the color isn't spectacular, I'd like them to be normal in proportion to his face and have that lively shine in them. Slightly big (I could like, actually), slightly small or a little buggy I can deal with, but they must at least look normal, healthy and alive.

14) He must be a normal weight.

By this I am allowing a little overweight -- like twenty-five pounds max. I little pudge can be nice, actually, depending on the guy, but I couldn't deal with a fat boyfriend -- because this would be a food addiction, and addictions kill relationships. See, it's not totally superficial.

I suppose this is a pretty long priority list, but in fairness, I wouldn't expect anything of someone else that I myself was not ready to give. As seen by the descending order of important, looks don't matter nearly as much as personality, because if a guy has a great soul then he'll start looking more beautiful naturally. I suppose this was a bit more of a serious post, but with "summer lovin'" fast approaching, I wanted to do a favor for all my male readers.

Seriously, how can you not love this, even just for the spectacle of it?

P.S. I could think of a whole slew of other things that are nice in a man, but I wanted to just give the skin and bones of "acceptable" and leave the tasty fat to bubble over the fire for my own enjoyment. No, I don't really understand the analogy either. It's late and my brain has checked out for the day.

P.P.S. Yes, I will fit David Bowie into every post possible. Get over it -- there's nothing you can do to stop the inexorable pic spams.

Obviously not real, but I thought it was a beautifully scarring note to end the post on.

Eyemakeup Makes Me Squee

I love eye makeup. I mean truly, deeply, worryingly ADORE it. The amount of time I spend on my own (though I never have as much fun with it as I'd like) is quite embarrassing. Pencils, liners, creams, shadows, liquids, gels . . . if it can accentuate the eye (with minimal long-term damage) I will wear it. I've told you all this to give you some background, because obviously, one so deeply entrenched in an orb-improving affair such as I would know a thing or two about the "do"s and "don't"s of eye makeup.

So trust me -- implicitly -- when I tell you:

Guyliner makes for uber-sexy squee time.

Some of you may say, "No, you're positively delusional. Guyliner is only for gender-confused, lithe pretty-boys with no dignity to speak of and too much time on their hands." To that I say, let me provide you examples of guyliner in action, so that I may beautifully and concretely change your mind forevermore. (Note: as always, when men are applying makeup to wear in public they must either be, a) famous, b) subtle, or c) emo [with the clothes to match] so please -- for the love of all that is holy -- do NOT try to imitate the mall emo band eye makeup to impress that chick in your sociology class. It will not work. It will make you look like a douche.)

. . . . .

Actually, you caught me. I thought I liked it, and then I did research and decided that no, not all guys should wear eyeliner. Sorry, Gregory, I just pulled a female switch-a-roo on you.

But there are men that look good in it! Just not most of the male population. However, I will, indeed, provide you will pretty examples. You've just wasted about two minutes of your life reading my confuzzled ranting. You're welcome.

circa 1978

BOWIEBOWIEBOWIEBOWIEBOWIEOMGILOOOOOOOVEYOU!!!!!! Marry me! Leave your wife! I'll raise your little girl! I'll give you another son! We're meant to be together! We have such beautiful features to mix! PLEASE! I ADORE YOU!

Um . . . heheh, just kidding. Right. Ahem. Moving on.



Gerard Way, you were my schoolgirl crush for a long time running. (You know why.) I had -- and have, if I'm being completely honest -- a huge thing for your makeup, stage and casual. However, I've decided you're just a bit too much of a high-talker for me. You know what I mean? You know what I mean. You're absolutely adorable, though, and I wish you and wifey all the best with the pregnancy thing. You''l make a great baby-daddy. No, really. You have to believe me. Of course I'm not mad -- we were never meant to be.



Okay, I'll be quite honest with you, Pete Wentz. I don't get all the fuss made over you. You're cute in that "short, guyliner-sporting rock star" kind of way, but certainly not as drool-worthy as the mags make you out to be. However, you do manage to pull of the heavy eyeliner, which is no small feat, so you get props for that. Besides, I like Fall Out Boy. (Ooh, and btw -- tough break with tying the knot with Ashlee Simpson, man. I'd say I understand your pain, but frankly I've never been drunk enough to do something like that. You're in my prayers.)



You -- I don't know who you are, actually, but you're rockin' the eye makeup like a sailboat in a storm and you're hot so you're here, (even if you do have almost unforgivably effeminate brows).

circa 1975

Oh, Freddie Mercury, if only you weren't gay and dead. You know I love you, even with your strangely endearing buck teeth and that inexcusable Village People mustache you grew in the 80s. My love for you in the 70s in abounding, though, with your black nails, heavy makeup, and leather pants. I'm sorry we lost you to the other side before we lost you forever, darling.

So, we have several lessons for today: 1) don't trust me about guyliner -- it's obviously a bad choice if you don't have the fame to back up the audacity and femininity of it (I mean, don't trust my previous opinion, trust this one . . . don't wear guyliner); 2) not all men who wear makeup swing to the rainbow end of the Kinsey scale; 3) if you're David Bowie, walk around shirtless more often for our enjoyment.