Dannijo Jewelry

I loooooooove Dannijo's jewelry and their short film debut!

Angela Chase-isms

We all love Angela Chase of My So-Called Life. She is so not a CFWG. Anyway, I stumbled upon Thought Catalog's Angela Chase-ism for the week (written by Collier Meyerson, also author of Carefree White Girl), and it happens to be on interracial relationships. It's worth a read--and brings up some interesting questions and observations about race and romantic relationships.

Why the interest on my part, you ask? My husband is white, and I identify as black and multiracial, but that's another story for a different day. Read the article below!

Angela Chasisms: Existential moments when you feel like the way you’re thinking about something is exactly the way that Angela Chase would think about the same thing, so you like, think about it, like in that way, that like, she does. This week: Attraction.

ON ATTRACTION

When someone asks you what your “type” is you know exactly what they mean and you know exactly how to answer. There is this entire coding system that we’ve adopted to answer that question without sounding, like, racist. When you hear someone say with a twinge of exoticism in their tone: “I like brunettes with dark features” you know that they’re talking about a “Jewish,” Moorish or, like, Middle Eastern looking person. They don’t need to name it. Or, someone will say: “Oh Jack? He only dates dark chicks. Isn’t that so weird? Would you have guessed?” That means that Jack only dates brown or black women and because it’s something to note, Jack is probably white. And yet, more often than not you’ll hear: “I don’t have a type, I just date whoever, I really am attracted to so many different ‘types.’” And on some level those people are probably telling the truth. But that doesn’t mean that they actually date the people they purport to be attracted to.

Most times, when you actually look around, people date people that looklike them. Intellectually, we all know that white people aren’t only attracted to other white people. I mean, secretive interracial relations during slavery prove that people of different races have always been, like, carnally into one another. But when it comes to being publicly with someone outside of your race, it’s like, a thing

I guess attraction is learned, like, algebra, or, something. So, then what about people that have been in actual interracial relationships? Are they trailblazers? Did they have to, like, unlearn the behaviors so many of us can’t seem to break from? I guess, in a way, it’s sort of heartbreaking to think about all of these people that could be together that won’t, because they can’t like, step outside of themselves

I once learned of this guy, James W. Rouse who developed one of America’s first “planned communities” in Columbia, Maryland in, like, the late ‘60s or something. His hope was to gather people from different races, ethnicities and socio-economic classes and put them together in one place so that the civil rights legislation of the 1960s could have proof that a pro-active, self-sustaining integrated society could, like, actually exist. It was pretty forward thinking I guess. I wonder how much it worked. A part of me wishes we were all forced to live in planned communities. I envision every town and city having these billboards all over the place (no longer owned by Clear Channel) where instead of a white couple drinking Corona there’d be, like, an interracial couple drinking Budweiser. And the slogan would read “The American type of Beer.”

In other news...

It's husby's birthday today!

Want.

{Christian Louboutin Fred Flat}

I would wear these every single day until the day I die. Sparkles! Louboutins! Flats! Everything I love in one shoe for only $595! HA. Unfortunately, I can't roll like that and because it's not my birthday, anniversary or Christmas, I probably can't convince my husby that I need these...unless I can--John? What's that you say? No?

Because it is too damn hot.

“I enjoy being indoors. I enjoy laying on couches, snacking, and reading (watching TV). Summer sucks because it is the only season when, if I want to do this in the middle of a gorgeous day, people (my children) look at me like I’m a disgusting person. Well, guess what? It’s 90 degrees out there, it’s 68 degrees in here, and this episode of The Bachelorette isn’t going to watch itself.”

- Adam Scott, on why he hates summer

Truer words have never been spoken. HE IS SO WISE.

{quote found via All Things Alishan}

Eau Flirt? NO flirt.

Apparently men become sexually aroused when smelling pumpkin pie and lavender, which led me to devise a really awesome equation that I am sure nobody has ever come up with. Then I made a love potion that I decided to market as a perfume using said equation:

SEX= FOOD x FLOWERS

Oh wait, I'm not that crafty. T'his morning while perusing the NY Times {cover to cover...no, psike, I was online, reading only the fashion and style section while pretending to pay attention to the front page news}, I came across a perfume called Eau Flirt, a scent that supposedly attracts men...and their penises. No, seriously. The perfume uses "ingredients like pumpkin, lavender and licorice shown to increase penile blood flow".

Cool, except I know that smelling something that reminds me of pie only makes me hungry. But then again, I'm not a guy.

I am more concerned that the general public truly believes that there is a perfume out there that has been created specifically to attract men because of pheromones and things like baked goods. WE ARE BEING DOUSED IN B.S., ladies! I understand that smells can trigger certain responses, but I'm pretty sure that NOTHING you spray on yourself will make someone fall in love with you. This person will may comment on how you smell nice, or nuzzle your neck with a little more vigor, but regular perfume would seem to do the trick, right? Or you know, soap.

I think I'm insulted...but maybe I should be proud of the fact that I attracted my husband with just my natural body odor?

Check out the article here.

How to settle disputes like a grown-up.

Have a nice game of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Best out of 7 wins.

Having a win after 1 round? Lame. A win out of 7? AWESOME.

Plus, you sharpen your RPS skillz something fierce.

Happy 4th!

Why don't you celebrate by wearing this:

While having one of these:

As you watch some of these!

{Just make sure you don't come out looking like THIS}:

HAPPY 4th!!!

On being a grown-up.

Dialogue from a few nights ago:

Danielle: Ew. Come look at this! It's so gross. I think it even smells. Sick.

John: How long has this been in there?

D: I dunno...like, a few months? Maybe...six months?

J: I'm not picking that up. This is your problem.

D: Ew. EW. It's like a science experiment. I can't clean it, I'm scared.

J: I think that it's beyond cleaning.

D: Will you please throw it out? I cleaned your bathroom the other day and you owe me.

J: This is not how this stuff works, this marriage is a partnership.

D: Right...so you'll throw it out?

J: How is this my responsibility?

D: Because I cleaned your bathroom and that was your responsibility which you shirked, so you have to make it up to me. Plus, I'm only afraid of two things: smelly mold and spiders, and I have only asked you to kill a spider like, once.

J {holds up "science experiment" and proceeds to dry-heave}: I've never seen anything like this before.

D: You need to double-bag that shit. No, triple-bag it and then put it in a garbage bag. Maybe you should spray some Febreze. Oh, God, I can't even...

J: Okay...Here's the plan. We'll save the lid, but toss everything else. I'm going to need you to hold the bag open so that I can dump it in quickly. Hold your breath, okay?

D: No! Wait! I can't, I can't! {shrieks loudly...glass shatters.}

{J, looking green, dumps the offending mass into the garbage bag, takes the bag and sprints to the trash room. The chute opens and closes, and I hear J take a deep breath and gag. He comes back in.}

J: I don't want to talk to you right now.

D: Do you want some baked ziti?