Whatta Dame
In a comic book store in the East Village yesterday, I found a very small ‘zine (and shit! I can’t remember the name of it)that was half dedicated to naked girl art, and half dedicated to the female bodybuilders at Venice Beach in the 40s. This is where I learned about Abbye “Pudgy” Stockton.
And now you will too.
Ask Gynomite!
My boyfriend and I haven’t been dating long, but he’s a good guy and I really really like him. However, something happened yesterday that I think may be a problem. I was having a really really bad day at work, so I called him and left him a message about how bad it was and about how miserable I was. I was expecting a phone call, but got nothing but a text message with a frowny face and “I’ll make it better tonight”. Then, when I did see him that night, he didn’t even ask about it at all. We just hung out, and after two hours of just making small talk and eating dinner, I was so upset that I told him I didn’t feel well and went home even more miserable. I didn’t expect him to have a bubble bath and massage for me, but I expected him to ask me about it and show some concern. How bad of a sign is something like this?
Oh my. I gotta say, it’s not a great sign.
In yourself.
I think this goes from being weird to being arty and back to being weird again
If you’re not completely exhausted from all the Michael Jackson coverage, here are some pictures that were taken during the 2003 raid of Neverland Ranch by investigators. Now, presumably, these pictures were to be used to build a case against MJ as being a child molester.
I Spy with my little eye..... some bleach, The Art Book, lots of pics of children, and a weirded out investigator
Mario: The New International Language
This is from India’s Got Talent, which is a pretty fun show that I watch at Kumail’s parents’ house and understand most of despite the fact that it’s all in Hindi.
You’re welcome!
Educate yourself on an up and coming job industry, and cry!
If you’re in the mood for a good cringe/cry, go check out the National Geographic article about prosthetics for animals, which is a blooming industry. Reading this, I kinda felt cheated. I didn’t even know animal prosthetics was something I could major in, let alone make a career in, and now I feel like the ship has sailed for me.
Sigh.
Anyway, jump for a few pics from the article, and go read it here.
Where I’m from, we want our fruits to taste like our sodas
My beloved home state, North Carolina, has created a new melon that’s being sold for the first time this summer!
This is the Sprite Melon.
This melon, which is a lovely creamy white color, “has a fruity flavor that resembles a cross between a honeydew and pear”. In other words, it kinda tastes like Sprite. You better believe I’m going to hunt it down when I visit home next. Go here to read all about it!
And…..scene
Hello all, I’m back from LA and will shortly be concluding Mental Health Week here at Gynomite….or maybe not. I have a few fun posts I want to make, but I’ve been enjoying working this muscle more this week, so I may continue to post more in my quest to make mental health trendy.
To that end, if you have any dilemmas or random mental health related questions you want Gynomite to take a crack at, leave a comment here, and feel free to leave it anonymously. Just lie about your email address!
Love always,
Gynomite
Ask Gynomite!
I have kind of a stupid question for you: how do you know if your drinking is a problem? I drink all the time but the worst that happens is that I run out of money to drink, or I show up at work hungover one or two days a week, or rarely, I blackout. Where’s the line between party and problem?
This is a great question, and one I can’t believe I haven’t gotten already. Get ready, because Gynomite has both the official clinical definitions and the definition from a girl with a lot of hard-partying friends.
It’s Book Club Time
I was recently sent a wonderful book review written by Meghan O’Rourke that left me incredibly hungry to read the book. Cristina Nehring’s A Vindication of Love: Reclaiming Romance for the Twenty-First Century argues that post-feminist love has become more companionate than passionate, and she is not a fan.
Neither am I, to an extent.
Let’s discuss.
Little Things
Happiness has, sadly, become a bit of a broad, general, and elusive state of being. It’s so elusive for some that they stop trying for it and instead settle for “not miserable” while they churn along through each day. But it seems so lame to just settle. So what’s the holdup?
The biggest hurdle I see in the quest for joy is its dogged connection to obtaining huge things, like nice clothes, booze, relationships, good jobs, approval, money, writing deals, sex, etc. Happiness isn’t a “let’s save it for the major stuff” kind of emotion. Happiness should be sprinkled throughout your day, and it should be easy. You know that story about the couple that was setting up their “celebrity sex exception” list, and the guy named Angelina Jolie while the girl named their neighbor Stan? Happiness should be like that. Not that we should lower our standards, but instead that we should appreciate the good things we already have in our lives.
So what follows is a list of really tiny stupid things that make me absurdly happy. My challenge to you is to make your own list.
