Recently my lovely sister told me that something I posted about weight/body issues helped her. This and this. I’m sure many of you know what a good feeling that was. Sorta felt like this:
Apparently, someone asked her if she was pregnant & well…she’s not.
The good news is that she handled it . She told them that she has some thyroid issues that cause her to gain weight and it’s mostly out of her control. Then that person felt like a nincompoop and that was pretty neat.
However, the opportunity for education cannot be ignored. Don’t know how you should respond to such an awkward question? I’m happy to assist. These are in no particular order because, if I do say so myself, I think they’re all awesome.
2.) When they say, “excuse me, I’m not trying to be rude, but I was just wondering…are you pregnant?” You can kindly respond with, “excuse me, I’m not trying to be rude, but I was just wondering…are you always this intrusive or does jealousy just bring that out in you?”
3.) Or you could just tell them that it’s not appropriate to ask a woman if she’s pregnant even if she’s crowning.
4.) “Yes, it’s your husband’s!”
5.) “What a coincidence…I was going to ask you the same question!”
I took requests today. Not musical requests. Even better; writing requests; ergo I’m a wordpress DJ, y’all. Let’s see where it gets me.
My Facebook post requesting requests (yeah, that’s a thing) was endowed with a plethora of ideas, all of which I am pretty much jumping out of my skin with excitement about. One friend in particular had some awesomely unique ideas on what she was interested in hearing me preach write about. I’m totally indecisive so I’m going to fit as many of them into one post as possible and pray it doesn’t surpass the word count of a Twilight novel.
First, let’s just focus on the fact that I used the word “ergo.” Ergo is the same as “hence” or “therefore” yet people (in my general area) tend to think it’s this fancy word not suitable to pass through the lips (or fingertips) of Booger-Bottom/Manchester folks. (And yes, Out-Of-Town-Readers, Booger-Bottom is a for real place and no, you will not find it on Google Maps.) Can we just clear something up? Ergo doesn’t actually classify as a “big word.” Just because you don’t use it doesn’t make it a “big” or “fancy” word. Just because you think it’s spelled “air-go” doesn’t make it fancy either. On the same note, using ergo doesn’t make you smart, but does make you seem smarter. Some of y’all might want to give it a try…just sayin’. Experiment!! >> The next time you have to do a report for school, pull out the thesaurus and use it to bulk up your paper with vernacular even your English teacher probably hasn’t seen and you’ll likely pass just because he or she doesn’t want to have to pull out the dictionary to discern the meaning of your essay or admit to an acne-faced teen that their intelligence has been challenged by a tall wad of walking hormones. I personally think any 15 year old that can use “loquacious” correctly in a sentence deserves at least a 10 point head start on all the other kids. Even more if said teenager will openly admit to being a pretentious turd with full knowledge of what the word “pretentious” means. Just don’t pull a Stephenie Meyer or an E. L. James; let’s save terms like “incredulously” and “wanton” for glittery vampire BDSM novels, m’kay?
Speaking of Stephenie Meyer:
A.) Her name is Stephenie Meyer. Not Stephanie Meyer. Not Stephanie Meyers. No “a” in her first name, no “s” in her last.
B.) Why were there no lemurs in Twilight? Lemurs are obviously reincarnated Cullens. Or Cullens are reincarnated from lemurs; take your pick.
In the scene where Edward-Lemur-Hands walks into the sunlight for the first time, there was something missing. They had the sunlight, they had the pasty, weirdly semi-hairy bird-chest, they even CGI’d some (decidedly pathetic) abs on the man. But they were missing a very important part. The part where Edward’s lemur relation recognizes the glittering epidermis and golden eyes of his kin and thus propels himself from the tree directly above only to land precisely onto Edward’s head, clamp his little lemur claws around Mr. Cullen’s face and proceed to give him enthusiastic, dangerous, family reunion worthy “grandma-has-your-cheeks-in-a-death-grip” type hugs and teeth-baring, rabies-inducing kisses. Of course Edward, with all his vampire speed and strength, would freak out and immediately begin running causing the velocity and intensity of the wind itself to rip the entire coat of fur from the poor lemur’s body, leaving him naked and creating a sort of lemur-shaped hat for Edward to wear over his bouffant. His HORRIBLE, giggle-worthy bouffant. So horrible, in fact, that wearing a lemur hat over it actually makes it BETTER. Then, the lemur relative would have no choice but to become wildly offended and embarrassed that his own flesh and blood would be so crude as to depants him in front of a lady thus causing him to recruit the entire village of lemurs from all the Madagascar movies to Forks, Washington for purposes of Cullen-Clan Ass Kicking. Forget the Volturi; The Lemurs are the ones to be feared.
Immediately after the lemurs on the “Fear Me Scale” would be the zebra because important philosophical musings questioning whether a zebra is more white or more black could only lead to political debates on racism and supremacy that no one in Forks (or Spoons or wherever the heck you people live) would want to stick around for. That racial stuff just gets downright nasty and is entirely unnecessary. Stay. Away. From. The. Zebra’s! Don’t cross the lemurs, but don’t even speak to the zebra’s.
Those zebra’s are hard core, man.
They will trap you and get you to say things that will inevitably offend them. They’re like (some) women.
Woman: “Honey, does this make me look fat?”
Man: “No. You look beautiful.”
Woman: “You lying sack of _______ ***** _______*@#!$!!!!”
Woman: “Honey, does this make me look fat?”
Woman: “I can’t believe you just said that you _______*@#!$!!!!”
Woman: “Honey, does this make me look fat?”
Woman: *cries – followed with numerous, snotty expletives.*
Just like zebra’s, there’s no winning with (some) women either. It’s best just to stay away from words like “fat” and “lose” and “weight” and “diet” and “antidisestablishmentarianism.” If you want your zebra lady to lose weight, the best thing you can do is start working out yourself. Encourage her to do activities with you that will be fun and get you out doing things together, but will also burn calories. Then you’re getting hot again, she’s getting hot again and you’re not being an ass about it. Win-win. Same works for men except you might have better luck getting them to run if you hi-jack the TV remote, put on some Nike’s and jog around the neighborhood blasting “Eye Of The Tiger” and holding aforementioned remote above your head like the golden egg in Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire.
That’s about all the golden nuggets of wisdom I have in me today. I hope it made you laugh. Just saying the word “nuggets” makes me laugh. I’ll be back tomorrow (or Monday) with more McNuggets. *chuckle* I don’t know if they’ll be golden, but they’ll be interesting, that’s for sure. Thanks to everyone who contributed an idea to my writing list. I’m going to try to touch on all of them in the coming weeks. Have a great (zebra-free) weekend!
I want a do-over! Everyone wants a do-over on something, right?
(Dear Person Who Is Going To Eventually Invent A Working Time Machine,
Get on this do-over business for us, mkay?
The Entire World)
But, who says the do-over has to be reserved only for experiences which were less than what you envisioned? I think they should apply also to those things you enjoyed so much that you want to re-visit the first time over and over again.
So, as if you care, here is a list of things on which I’d like a do-over:
The reading of a certain young adult series with feminine, glittery vampires. Okay, I admit it – I read Twilight and I LOVED it. I shall wear my shame with pride! (***And the award for Most Ironic & Nonsensical Statement of the Day goes to…..***) The first time I read it, it just grabbed me. I won’t say it’s the best written story of all time or that the sparkly vampire business isn’t a bit gay, but when I initially read it, I loved it. I devoured the entire series in four days and during that four days, I can’t remember doing a single household chore, cooking, eating, sleeping and sadly, even bathing. My children were probably wandering around the house frantically croaking “Mommy!” while scraping the crumbling remains of day-old Cheerios off the floor to nibble on. I wish that everything I could read had the power to captivate me like those books did. (Except for maybe the bathing part. A girl can take a book to the bathtub with her!) Also, Dear DFACS, I totally fed my kids while reading Twilight. Back off. KThxBye!
Watching Vampire Diaries for the first time. I know it’s sad that my first two do-overs involve vampires, but this is me we’re talking about. I have a bit of a slight (un)healthy obsession with the fanged and undead. Correction – the PRETTY fanged and undead. Not the undead as in The Walking Dead. That’s just Filthy McNasty. (Although the show is surprisingly awesome.) Anyway, getting back on track………….
I started watching Vampire Diaries when it was up to episode 11 of season 1. By the time they were up to episode 13 of season 1, I was already caught up and had been waiting a week for that episode to magically appear on iTunes. We were living in Germany, my husband was deployed, I didn’t sleep much and True Blood was on hiatus; I needed something to do. So I gave TVD a shot and it was like crack, y’all. CRACK! When one episode went off, I immediately started another until I realized that I needed at least a couple of hours of sleep before walking the kids to school the next day and forced myself to shut the computer off. I couldn’t get enough of it. I want every time I watch that show to feel like it did when I was first starting it.
Dating the hubs. There are some things I’d like a do-over of just because they weren’t exactly the smoothest operations in the history of ever, but mostly I’d just like to go back to how fun everything was then. I was 16 and goofy and didn’t care that people thought I was certifiably insane. I said hi to random strangers in a Hammy The Squirrel sort of voice. And my boyfriend (now husband) adored that goofy version of me. It was silly and fun and adorable. And vomit-inducing to everyone else which just makes it that much more amusing for me! But then again, I LOVE things just the way they are now so maybe this isn’t do-over material so much as it is re-invention material. I just need to make it a point to have more fun. I was going to say I need to make it a point to be goofier, but if I get any goofier, this blog would probably explode from not being able to handle the copious amount of weirdness it is forced to contain.
The first time I told my son that little boy babies come from Home Depot and little girl babies come from Walmart. This is a weird thing to want to re-experience, I admit, but you didn’t see his precious little face trying to process this information. Priceless!
The first time I made apple pie from scratch. This one is a do-over I wanted because the first time was a complete FAIL. Luckily, I already redeemed myself in this area on Valentine’s Day. Say hello to my delicious friend:
I made mini apple pies, too, but at least one of those turned out to look grotesquely (and hilariously) inappropriate for the interwebs. So naturally, I took a picture! And I’m going to tease you with the fact that a select few have seen this picture and can vouch for its grotesqueness and hilarity, but I can’t bring myself to post it here because…honestly, my mom reads this thing and there’s just no way…
Do-over number whatever: The time I said “Dear Baby Jesus” and “your eyes are so blue!” to Ian Somerhalder. Did I think the man didn’t know what color his eyes are? He’s probably used those puppies on women since the womb and here I am gushing at him about his genetic makeup. *head-desk* As soon as I saw the man, all viable cells vacated my brain and I NEED to redeem myself. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember me or that he still won’t remember me after I’ve made amends for my brainless first encounter with him. What matters is that I remember and I can’t live with that distinctly, stereotypically blonde moment hovering over my consciousness every time I see this picture (which is hanging in a place of honor in my office) with my stupid, fat-faced, goofy grin on it.
3rd Grade. All of third grade.
I’d like a do-over of that period when my two oldest kids were between the ages of 2 & 4. Not because I screwed it up or anything, but because I miss it and I’d absolutely record more of their little voices on my phone to later save to iTunes and play to myself on a regular basis. Their voices are so precious!
Side Note/Funny Story regarding the precious voices of my minions; I recorded a conversation while my husband was deployed the first time that went like this:
Minion #1 AKA Mr. Thoughtful: *Singing* I wonder if my daddy is coming back home…. *Pause* When he gets done beating the bad people up…*longer pause*
Me: Go ahead, finish your song!
Minion #1 AKA Mr. Thoughtful: I already!
Me: Okay. *hears Minion #2 AKA Princess Sassypants singing aforementioned song in the background in her adorable barely 2 year old voice* Tell Daddy you love him.
Minion #1 AKA Mr. Thoughtful: I wuv you Daddy. I miss you!
Me: Princess Sassypants, come tell your daddy you love him. *She toddles over, doesn’t say anything* Come on, say ‘I love you, Daddy.’
Minion #2 AKA Princess Sassypants: Momma, I tink I poop!
That, I would not re-do in a million years except to keep it EXACTLY the same and hear it again and again 🙂
I would NOT like a do-over of pregnancy. Been there, done that, got the “PERMANENTLY OUT OF SERVICE” tattoo.
The time I let the kids watch Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire at the theater with the hubs and I. They were a bit too young for the whole rebirthing of a snake-like-looking-powerful-wizard/monster guy.
The time I let the hubs talk me into letting my young son watch The Lord of The Rings. He literally JUST got over being terrified of Smeagol and Gollum.
A few days ago when the kids and I did a table-top volcano experiment. That was fun. They smiled, they laughed, they played AND they learned. If we could relive that everyday, it would be fantastic.
The time I freaked my brother out with that Secret Circle theme music and he jumped 5 feet in the air from a laying position. Awesome!
I’m sure there’s more, but my do-overs aren’t exactly epic or anything so I’ll bore you no longer. 🙂 You tell me your do-overs now. They’ve got to be way more interesting than mine.
I’ve been so heavy-hearted in my recent posts that I figured it’s about time I got back to my normal routine of gracing you all with my usual mind-poop. You see, sometimes there are things that I want to say, but can’t.
Like the above, for example. While there are several situations I’d say this in, I don’t think it would be wise to say something like this to my minion’s teacher. Do I want to at least once a month? Why, yes. Yes I do.
I also believe the above statement is the answer for why nothing the government does EVER makes sense. They can’t agree on anything unless there’s a certain level of idiocy involved.
The next one, I just think is funny.
This one, I would very much like to email to individual people and see how long it takes them to figure out that yes, I actually do mean you!
Having given you some examples of things I really want to say, but am smart enough to keep to myself (until now apparently) & also having shared an earlier post on things I thought I’d never say, I feel it appropriate to share with you a list of things that I desperately want to say but never see myself catching quite the right opportunity or circumstance to do so. Enjoy & feel free to add your own as I’m sure some of you can get much more creative than me!
“Why YES, Damon Salvatore! Of course I’ll marry you!” <— Dear Husband, breathe. And remember this is a fictional scenario so our nuptials are completely safe 😀
“It’s ‘wingardium lev-O-sa. Not levio-sah.” *Know-it-all Powers Activate!*
Next on the list: I desperately want to say “My best friend is Catnip” and have it be nothing short of absolute truth.
I’m a picky eater. It sucks. What does this have to do with me wanting to say things I don’t think I’ll ever get to? A lot actually. You see, my husband is always trying to get me to try new things which is great. But sometimes, he gets a little too serious with it and I want to give him a really brilliant comeback to make him shut up. Trouble is, he’s only given me the opening to say it once and I missed my opportunity to respond appropriately. Sadly, these are the kind of moments you can’t get back. He told me a certain food was “full of protein.” What I said was “So.” Genius, right? What I should have said was “so is jizz, but you don’t see me harvesting yours!”
I would sincerely love to be in a situation where I could call Edward Cullen “Sparkle-Pants McGee” to his fictional face. The best I’ll get is meeting Robert Pattinson and let’s face it; that’s never gonna happen. Besides, that guy is so good natured and funny that anything with the word “sparkle-pants” in it probably wouldn’t even cross my mind. And the McGee thing? It just sounds good at the end of “sparkle-pants.”
I want someone to taunt me to I can tell them “you’ll be laughing on the other side of your face in a minute.”
This doesn’t fit all the criteria seeing as how it’s likely I’ll get the chance to say this one, but I might fudge it up by forgetting to use it like I did with my husband so…here is. I hope that someday I can tell my kids “when you fall out of that tree and break your legs, don’t come runnin’ to me!” I also hope that when they remember I said that I’ll be there to see their faces when they finally get it. (Anyone notice the quantity of “T” words in that last sentence? Totally accidental…)
Last for this post (but certainly not all I have) I absolutely want to be in a position to say “If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a dollar at it.” I confess this one scares me a bit when I run through the list of possible scenarios in which this statement would be appropriate. *Shudders*
It’s 12:18am and I just got done reading the last book in the Hunger Games trilogy. There’s no reason why I’m writing about it other than that there is no way I could go to sleep yet. I HAVE to talk about it first. I’m a female after all..don’t we kinda have to talk about everything? Or at the very least type nonsense about it and leave it up to the rest of you to decide whether you care enough to read it. Chances are, if you’ve read the books then you’re sticking around to read this. If you have not read the books, but want to, you’ll probably stick around then, too. If you haven’t read them and have no desire to then, surely, you didn’t even make it to this sentence. Either way, I’m continuing in my late night rambling.
I love to read and get lost in a good book. I’ve read a lot of books. Most of them are fiction so don’t start thinking I’m some highly educated person who likes books written in an old English language I could never hope to understand. I like Shakespeare, sure, but only after it was translated to me line by line by my 12th grade lit. teacher. If I tried to read and decode it on my own, I’d probably misinterpret the vast majority of it if it weren’t for the fact that almost everyone knows how all his stories end already without having read them. My point is that I like the feeling of being transported to a different time and place. A ficitonal one – because honestly, I live in the real world enough. When I’m reading, I don’t want real; I want fantasy. And pardon me if all the books I like are categorized under ‘young adult’…don’t judge me.
My favorite books are, not surprisingly, the Harry Potter series. I like Twilight despite the fact that it has sparkling vampires, Bella has no personality and that Edward acts more like a control-freak father than a boyfriend. I’ve read the Mortal Instruments series and enjoyed it, too, though now I can’t remember a whole lot of what happened in those because I devoured them so quickly I failed to retain any details that weren’t absolutely pertinent to the core plot in the stories. I’ve read the Vampire Diaries books and have ascertained that this was several hours of my life wasted that I can never get back. I’m unbelieveably thankful to Kevin Williamson & Julie Plec who managed to save the sorry excuse for story-telling that the books were and turn them into something incredibly addicting in the show.
I’ve read the Vampire Academy series and the House of Night series. Liked the first very much and look forward to re-reading them in the future…can’t say much for the 2nd as I couldn’t get passed the bad writing and the fact that the 15 year old main character has about 5+ love interests within a 2 month period that spans across several books. I don’t usually abandon a series once I start it (even if I HATE it), but The House of Night was one that I don’t care to pick back up again. I care even less about how it ends than I do the Vampire Diaries books and I can’t read more than 2 pages of those without yawning or screaming into a pillow at the stupidity of it all. The point is that as much as I hate the VD books, I still buy them (to finish my collection) and read them (albeit slowly) because I care just enough about them Damon to want to know how it ends and also because I like making comparisons to the show. I would buy the House of Night books just to use them to build a campfire for my kids in the summer if I weren’t so concerned about the waste of money that would be.
I say all that to get to this; in all those books, love them or hate them, there is always at least one thing that I can point out that I wish would have been done differently or an ending that I take some sort of issue with. That’s not to say that all books should end the way I want them to or that I don’t absolutely love them just the way they are, but there’s always that one thing that I can honestly say “I wish _________ would have happened instead” or “but why did __________ happen?” And if neither of those is the case the only other issue I have is feeling empty after I’ve finished a particularly good book or series. Like it can’t end and I’m left needing more of it, which is an incredible feat for an author, but is a sort of hell for a reader.
That is not the case at all with the Hungar Games.
It is the first series I’ve ever read that I felt completely satisfied at the end. It was PERFECT. Not that I wouldn’t love to read more of them, but I feel like there is definite closure at the end of the 3rd one and it’s not of the “and they lived happily ever after” variety or an ending so sad that you feel like it was a waste to read the book. It’s a perfect balance of fantasy with just enough realism to it to make it totally believable and satisfying.
I kept thinking I would be able to predict certain things in the books and everytime I thought a certain thing would happen, there would be a great twist that would totally throw me off, which is a good thing because it kept me reading. (It took me a day to read each book. 3 days total to finish the series. I have 3 children, a husband, a job, voice lessons & band practices so just take a moment to let it sink in….you should see the state of neglect my house is currently in.) That’s why I like the Vampire Diaries (show) so much. It’s good writing. Everytime we think we can predict something in the show, the writers throw us a curve ball and something we never expected happens. That’s exactly how this book is. I had been predicting (or at the very least, hoping for) something throughout the whole series, but after having several of my predictions proven wrong or twisted a bit from what I envisioned, I finally gave up on the biggest prediction that I made for the book only to find out in the last two pages that I was finally right about something. And it was sweeter than I could ever have imagined because
A.) I had already given up on it happening & B.) because it didn’t happen the way I thought it would; it was even better.
Now I am going to go put on my Captain Obvious suit (complete with cape!) and say one more (very anti-climatic & redundant) thing:
I highly recommend the Hunger Games trilogy.
Now that I’ve gotten all that out of my system, I think I can finally go to sleep now 🙂
This is an abridged version of a conversation I had with my oldest female minion tonight: (For the sake of humor & a tiny semblance of privacy, we’ll call her Minion #2. Minion #1 is my son & Minion #3 is my youngest daughter.) <—obviously.
Minion #2: Mommy! Minion #3 just said a bad word!
Me: Did she really say a bad word or did she say ‘stupid’ or something like that? (Note: I asked this because they frequently tell me ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’ & ‘butt’ are bad words)
Minion #2: No, she said Sh!t!
Me: *Deep breath* Minion #3, you can’t say the bad word either. I know I asked you what she said, but you could have said “the S word” instead of actually saying it.
Minion #2: Oh. Or I could have said ‘the D word, the H word or the F word?’
Me: Yes. *Shakes my head at how many bad words my 6 yr old apparently knows.*
Minion #2: Are there other bad words?
Minion #2: Can you tell me ’em?
Me: *Holding back a laugh* Why would I tell you a bunch of words you aren’t supposed to say!? No I’m not gonna tell you that!
Now, someone please tell me why in the world I would give a child a break-down of all the horrible things I don’t want them to say?
Minion #3 saw a stray dog out in our backyard today and being the compassionate little child that she is said, “Aw! Mommy, that poor doggie doesn’t have any parents.” She said this in her most pitiful voice, too. Broke my heart and made me laugh all at the same time.
Minion #1 is under the impression that he is going to get snakes tattooed up and down his arms. He has the temporaries on right now. I can’t wait until he shows those babies off to his Nanna. She’ll jump out of her skin and run half-way across the world before he can even get out the words “they’re fake!” I’m hoping his desire to get fanged reptiles forever imbedded into his skin will wear off with time; hopefully that time will consist of three days. Or less.
I mostly just posted this because I had a very demanding urge to write. The problem is that I have little to write about at the moment. I need inspiration & I’m finding that I’m running a little low this week. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been feeling – for lack of a better term – BLAH tonight. I was fine until the hubs got home and I discovered that he was in an incredibly bad mood and somehow between that and Minion #2 getting into my purse, wasting my makeup and sprinkling bright green glitter all over the van that we’re currently renting while our car is in the shop [seriously, it looked like Edward Cullen peed everywhere] …my mood just plummeted. It happens though. Kids do those kinds of things and then 20 minutes later, they’re making you smile again. While I might want to post THIS PICTURE with the caption “SOMEBODY SHOOT ME”, I won’t. When I die, I want to be remembered as an optimist… :p
Last week I posted Chick Troubleshooting; Volume 1 so this week I wanted to do something to educate the ladies. So, I’ll get right to it. You know how you read those little girlie magazines that recycle, reuse & republish the same articles every 10 days with a different author & a *slightly* different headline that still means the same thing as the one you read 10 days before?
Yeah, Cosmo – I’m talking about your lame dishrag of a magazine. The only thing it’s good for is the ocassional laugh & being hacked up for my scrapbooks. The majority of this craptacular waste of perfectly good trees is centered on sex and celebs with fake boobs, but there are some genuine relationship (and not sex) based articles in here surprisingly. Not surprising, however, is how insanely WRONG they are.
That one article you read about how to get your guy to talk about your relationship with you? Yeah, the one about sneaking in questions and making it a game.
You’re not sneaking in anything, it’s not a game and he knows what you’re doing. He’s not an imbecile; he knows that “what do you like best about me?” is a question that has the potential to murder his sex life with you if he doesn’t answer it just right which makes it *ding ding ding* a relationship question. I’m not saying don’t talk or ask any questions because you should. I’m just saying don’t try to be sneaky about it. Any guy who is worth your time (i.e – not a sissy coward afraid of talking about things that might make him slightly uncomfortable for a few minutes) won’t mind taking the time to talk about these things with you if you really need or want to.
We spend way too much time playing games & tip-toeing around the guy when in reality, I think a lot of guys would like it better if you were more up-front about your intentions. They hate mind-reading & more than that, they suck at it.
So make it easy on the poor guy and just tell him as plainly as you can manage what your problem is, what you need to talk about, what you need from him, ect. It’s a good communication practice and something that I have to work on as well. If he can’t handle it, find someone who can.
That’s not so hard, right?
But before I go, allow me to complain about Cosmo again for just a moment since it’s my own humble opinion that it’s contributing to the rotted brain cells of female America. It’s not a women’s empowerment magazine like its publishers want you to believe. It’s more of a supremely innaccurate wanna-be man-manual. What is the majority of the magazine about? Sex & men. If it had anything to do with empowering women, every sentence in the thing wouldn’t be about how you can please him. It would be more centered around ways that women can be happier, feel better, be more accomplished, ect. without our world revolving around a guy & NOT every single way the writers can think of (which isn’t that many at all) that you can drive your man crazy. While his praise is always great & welcome, you’re not validated by your man; you are validated by how you feel about yourself. Can I also point out that you’re probably just fine the way you are so don’t get caught up in all these magazines that tell you you’re not good enough. That’s my main issue with all of them, but that’s a post for a different day.
Pick up a magazine every once in while that says something about how he can drive you crazy. He’ll probably appreciate it just as much as you will since it reduces the amount of mind-reading he has to perform & fail miserably at. 🙂