ah, the female gaze

it's gettin' all springtime everywhere, and i don't know about you, but my sap is running. (it's running nowhere, but that's another, more private, post.)

yesterday, the roomie (who is, incidentally, enjoying her unemployment more than a normal human being should) went to Artopolis with a girl friend of ours. she saw some awesome art and came home swooning about industrial, metal furniture that she wants for our new place (when that happens, i'll let you know) but then the swooning over furniture evaporated when she started ranting about all the female nudes all over the place:

roomie: i couldn't believe it! i mean, if i saw one more nipple i was gonna die. painting after painting, statue after statue, naked women! i mean, what the hell?! even the female artists - all their feminist painting and crap and STILL ONLY NAKED WOMEN! i started to get seriously pissed off.

ding: hm. (keeping her mouth shut because roomie gets mad when ding mentions 'patriarchy.')

roomie: for the love of god, show me some naked men! where where the naked men? oh, yeah, over by the sensual masculine gay art! arrgh! you know? and, seriously, where do they expect me to mount a wall length painting of some naked chick and her pudenda? my dining room?!



anyway, Where Sheelzebub indulges in the female gaze at Pandagon.

of course, any and all beefcake suggestions are welcome down in comments.

heh.

approaching cliche

Bloog.

It's like I'm a manitee. I'm so incredibly bloated right now I actually look pregnant. (And the empire-waisted blouse I'm wearing ain't helping.)

It feels good, though, to let the belly out. Just stand there and let it all go. ahhh...
Who cares that Valentine's Day is tomorrow and I'm sitting here with my belly pooching out? Feels good. Watch the snow fall and let your belly hang out.

Hm.
I'm so signing up for Weight Watchers Online...

the wonder years: remember sassy?

instead of the standard piece about the best way to give oral (for that, you have to check out Sex Tips for Straight Women from a Gay Man) nerve has an excellent love letter to the magazine that made me the hopelessly feminist, bitchy woman that i am today: Nerve.com - Cute Band Alert by Kara Jesella and Marisa Meltzer.

it was sad when Sassy went away. perhaps i was outside its demographic (when it ended, i was just beginning grad school) but i'd like to think my extended virginity lent me an adolescent glow for a realllly long time.

(um, i'm killing time waiting for my gay dinner date. clearly, i have nothing important to say.)

what's a girl to wear?

so as the weather cools out, a girl's thoughts naturally turn to Fall fashion. i love this time of year - back to 'school', tights, pumps, sweaters and jackets, smooth hair, plum lipstick. last year i went with Sexy Librarian.

this year it has been recommended that i go with The Tailored Tomboy.

or, as i like to put it: The Sexy Librarian's Sexy Butch Cousin.

it's a recommendation that comes just in time for the new boy - uh, man - who's suddenly appeared on the Ding scene. heh.

(i need a name for him...something that conveys HunkyTallStrappingBroadArtyCrunchyGranolaFurnitureMaker Man. something like Paul Bunyan but less...rustic.)