just call me raegen


Month: August, 2012

Airplane Etiquette: 10 Commandments for Flying the Douchebaggy Skies

My sister just accepted a promotion this week (yay, sissy!). Her new position as a trainer requires a lot of traveling, which is an exciting part of the job. Having had to do a bit of traveling myself for the position I’m currently in, however, I know what’s ahead for her, at least in part — as in the annoying, dealing-with-morons part. Traveling is fun, but it’s also exhausting — especially when the people around you complicate the matter simply by being the inconsiderate ignoramuses they are.

Aeroplane Easyjet 3

Here comes trouble… (Photo credit: puddy_uk)

This blog is written in honor of my sister and her new adventure. Herein, I set forth airplane commandments to all those aforementioned dunces who will undoubtedly test my sister’s patience as much as they’ve tested mine. (In fact, maybe we should both print this out and tape it to the lap tray of every plane we fly in for the moronic travelers to read — assuming they’re literate and English-speaking, of course. Guess we’ll have to hire translators to come up with an equally offensive version for the others.)

1. Thou shalt have luggage awareness. How many times in life has someone’s purse bumped your arm as you walked by? Now shrink that space in which you and Purse Carrier had to pass by each other by, like, 500; that’s how much room baggage has to make its way to where it will be stowed for most of the duration of a flight.

Plus, since people snatch up aisle seats like they’re Adele CDs (speaking of which, pardon me while I use my barf bag now), it is unlikely that, now seated, baggage will hit their arms… and far more likely that it will hit their heads instead. So why anyone still insists on carrying bags over their shoulders or behind them where the behavior of said bag cannot be observed is beyond me.

what was in my bag

All the… small things… add up… to concussion… (Photo credit: Evil Erin)

And as if a boot to the head isn’t bad enough, the douchebag carrying the offending bag might even sit next to you, placing said piece of luggage or contents of it on the nearest open seat in which no one will be sitting. Really? No, really? If I’m not saving the seat for anyone, and you’re not saving the seat for anyone, why does your jacket, for instance, suddenly get to lay claim to the extra space we both could’ve used for our arms, etc.?

Ever hear that bit by Dane Cook about coats? Yeah, don’t be surprised if, when you come back from the bathroom, there’s a stinky little mark on your jacket that wasn’t there before. It was me. I crapped on your coat.

Mr. Hankey, the Christmas Poo

Hidey-ho! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

2. Thou shalt STAD. I love it how some people act like as soon as they’ve crossed the aircraft’s threshold, their work is done. Keep movin’ along, pal. Stop texting on your phone, talking to the person behind you and find a seat in which to sit thy arse down. Then try to keep it there for the duration of the flight.

3. Thou shalt STFU. There are few things worse than a person who has no sense of the social cues that say “leave me alone.” Being as well-practiced as I am at these passive-aggressive hints, I can attest to the fact that such a statement can typically be made quite effectively and easily via glaring or rolling eyes, crossed arms, a disdainful curl of lip, or a combination of all three (for the really stubborn folk).

Hound dog

Taste my silent evil! (Photo credit: lucianvenutian)

But every once in a while, The Clueless sit down next to people who just want a little peace and quiet and proceed to dictate their life stories. Unless we’re going to be your future biographers, spare us, and shut the eff up. The sound of a plane is annoying enough as it is without your mouth adding to the cacophony.

4. Thou shalt control the fruit of thy loins. And then there are the Parents Who Should’ve Been Sterilized Before They Could Procreate. They who bring their temper-tantrum-throwing monsters high on sugar and low on manners aboard should be fully equipped with muzzles, chloroform, or both… or allow me to assist with mine.

ill chloroform-apparaat 1907

But I won’t be this civil with it. (Photo credit: janwillemsen)

If it were up to me, there’d be a special space on an airplane — like a public restroom on land — to take the ill-behaved for some well-earned corporal punishment. And don’t think for a second I’m being ageist, because I’m happy to see that old wank-yank in aisle 9 who won’t stop harassing the flight attendant get his wrinkled a** beat, too. I call dibs on that paddle duty.

5. Thou shalt not recline thy seat. I know, I know — you probably disagree with me on this one, especially if you’re a dude. But seriously, the space between seats is small enough, and you about half it when you put your seat back even that mere three inches. (And really, guys, besides with respect to what’s in your boxers or briefs, what difference does an extra three inches make at the end of the day?)

Kill by Inches (film)

Would this be, like, the equivalent of “Killing Me Softly,” but for boys? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It’s even more annoying if someone already has the lap tray down with a full glass on it when the person in the seat in front decides to recline.

Just say no to seat reclining. I do.

I also don’t grab the seat in front of me as I get up. You shouldn’t either.

6. Thou shalt not spread thy legs before me. Since we’re on the subject of seats and space, keep your legs closed. Most women already know and practice this, but guys need to follow this rule on planes, too. I know some of you are Bunyan-esque and all, but seriously, grab the aisle seat, because when you’ve got one knee up against me and the other up against another passenger, you look like the big D you’re airing.

"Do You Like?" VOL. Sasquatch

Enter foot, center stage. (Photo credit: Instant Vantage)

7. Thou shalt not hog the armrests. Don’t be that guy. That guy who thinks he’s entitled to both armrests. That guy who deliberately seeks out seats next to small women like me so he can spread his legs (thereby claiming half my leg room), then adds insult to injury by taking a fourth of my seat room by letting his big old hairy arm brush up against me because he’s stolen the armrest. I can’t tell you how many times some buttclown has done this, and it’s like no matter how far away I lean from the hairy arm, I cannot escape. And I know you see me leaning, hairy-armed dude. What did I ever do to you to incur your furry wrath?

My Hairy Arm

Nice watch, but can you please not rub it against me? (Photo credit: Youssef Abdelaal)

8. Thou shalt keep thy shoes on, wear deodorant, and bring mouthwash. We can smell it if you haven’t showered, have been drinking, won’t stop drinking, or all of the above. Just keep this in mind, wino.

9. Thou shalt not pass gas in thy seat. Do not ever feel it is appropriate to fart in your seat. Ever. Seriously. I know I make a lot of jokes about farts, and I myself have intestinal issues, but still, there must be a line drawn somewhere, and the airplane seat is that place. I once sat next to a dude on a plane who kept gassing me out — grossest thing ever, especially considering I usually feel nauseated on planes just by virtue of the motion anyway. This guy’s beefs brought me painfully close to ralphing on more than one occasion, and that just ain’t right.


Beware: Farts of Death (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The bathroom — albeit modest — is on a plane, so make good use of it… and bring spray to follow up. I prefer vanilla.

10. Thou shalt not join the Mile-High Club. Getting back to intestinal issues and folks with gas problems, people need airplane lavatories in the capacity for which they were specifically designed. And I know I’m a big fan of the LSR, but if you really find anything about an airplane bathroom stall sexually arousing, you got problems… which hopefully include infertility, for all our sakes.

12 Songs for the Coming Apocalypse

I’m a mix-tape kinda gal — except no one makes mix tapes anymore, because we all have MP3 players now. So I’ve evolved into a playlist kinda gal.

It occurred to me the other day that it’s been quite some time since I’ve made a new playlist. And since we’re approaching that fateful Mayan day of doom ever so swiftly now, I thought, “I’m going to make a playlist for the end of the world… you know, just in case.”

So I made a list, I narrowed it down to a holy 12 (to match 12/21/12, of course), and then I decided I’d see what other people had come up with, because, as much as I’d like to think I’m that original, I’m not.

What was shocking, though, was that not a one of these songs below appeared on any of the lists I checked out on Page 1 of my Google search. So either I’m way off, or everybody else is just less imaginative about their aural experiences than I am… or both.

So here it is — my apocalyptic list of awesome. If it’s going to happen, might as well sound good, right?

You’re welcome.

1. “Mad World” — OK, so even though this song was originally done by Tears For Fears, whom I dig, I think the Gary Jules version really captures the spirit of, “The world is crazy and meaningless, so why even bother?” — a good attitude to have if the world is actually ending. It’s not going to make you feel better to mourn it or miss it when there’s nothing you can do to stop its destruction, now, is it?


One bonus thing to note here: If the world does end, so too does Adam Lambert and his horrific cover of this song from when he was on American Idol. Praise Jesus!

2. “No Leaf Clover” — Many people had one Metallica song or another on their apocalypse list, but I went for a less popular one — mostly because I love the idea that “It comes to be that the soothing light at the end of your tunnel / Is just a freight train coming your way.” What if death is like that? Guess we’ll find out soon, right?


3. “This Place Is a Prison” — I like The Postal Service — as in the band that’s way better than Death Cab for Cutie, not the entity that always dicks over my friend Joe. I wish The Postal Service would make another album already. But since that won’t likely happen before the end of the world, I’ll enjoy this song on the last day of it. “I know there’s a big world out there like the one I saw on the screen,” sayeth Ben Gibbard, but the truth is, that big world is about to get toaster-caked, so really, escaping the prison of one’s own body is the only reasonable option at that point.


4. “Shimmer” — I got to see this song performed IRL a couple years ago when Fuel did a reunion tour. Carl Bell’s still rockin’. While technically, the song is about a relationship, I think its chorus is quite philosophical about existence in general as well — with just the right amount of cynicism to appeal to my crusty, curmudgeony self: “We’re here and now / Will we ever be again? / ‘Cause I have found / All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away again.” Fade… or be blown to smithereens by a meteor.


5. “I Don’t Like Mondays” — OK, so I gotta give mad props to Bob Geldof of the Boomtown Rats for writing a song back in 1979 about what would happen (again) years later, though this time at Columbine. But I still have to admit I like Tori Amos’ rendition better.


There’s a lot of truth to this song about madness, a girl’s excuse for a shooting spree being “I don’t like Mondays.” The world is madness. You can ponder that reality and these lyrics as your home starts incinerating: “And he can see no reasons / ‘Cause there are no reasons / What reason do you need to die?”

6. “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” — Oh, Bobby D., you are one of my idols. Let’s walk up to that special door together.

(For those of you who are hardcore G&R fans, I will permit this cover as an acceptable alternative.)


7. “Night” — If you’ve never listened to Morphine, your life probably wasn’t worth living anyway. Seriously, though, what a terrific band — over far too soon with the death of its frontman, Mark Sandman. (I mean, seriously, best last name ever, in the most inappropriate way ever.) This song was released posthumously, in fact, so every time I hear it, I can’t help thinking of Lilah, the woman in the song, as his own personal ferrywoman to the underworld. Hopefully Lilah will be there for the rest of us, too, because damn, she sounds sexy!


8. “Waiting for a Superman” — The Flaming Lips are pretty serious. Like, for real. I know some of their songs seem just wacky and weird, but this is a deep band, and I dig that. This song in particular seems apocalyptic to me because it essentially says that even a superhero can’t save us from some impending dooms. Share this one with your kids!


9. “Thoughts of a Dying Atheist” — A lot of people listed “Apocalypse Now” by Muse as an apocalyptic song. That’s too easy. I want to think a little more deeply about life as I’m about to die — hence, “Thoughts of a Dying Atheist” instead. I mean, what do you do when you know your death’s approaching but you don’t believe in anything beyond? Well, I guess you sit in fear. Unless you’re Buddhist. But that’s doesn’t necessarily qualify as a form of atheism, believe it or not, so I guess you’re just going to have to deal with the fact that you didn’t meditate to achieve nirvana and gain the ability to shed your mortal coil in peace.


10.  “No Surprises” — Another great song — this one by Radiohead — that just seems to say, “Screw it all. I want out. Life sucks, so give me nothing instead. No alarms and no surprises. Just silence.” Radiohead fans will naturally take less convincing than others to drink Thom Yorke’s Kool-Aid.


11. “Lake of Fire” — “Where do bad folks go when they die? / They don’t go to heaven where the angels fly / Go to a lake of fire and fry.” This Nirvana song is for all you sinners that thought you’d get away with all the effed-up stuff you did. I had to put a little fear of God in you, because it is a possibility, after all… Granted, it’s too late to shape up now, but…


12. “You’re Beautiful” — Because nothing will make you actually wish for the death that’s already coming for you than this James Blunt song. Nothing.

The Magical Bathroom Stall?

OK, so you guys are going to think I’m a freak — what else is new? — but things have happened this past week-ish that are simply too weird to be coincidental.

Things in a bathroom. But not-related-to-going-to-the-bathroom things. That’s why it’s weird.

I already love the bathroom, as you know. I have a deep appreciation for the Land of Sweet Release (LSR). And just when I thought it couldn’t get any more special, BAM! I go into my favorite stall, and what’s there on the floor?

English: Dog feces

No, not that — though that would’ve been hilarious! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Money. Moolah. Cold hard cash. The mean green. Dough. Scrilla.

On the floor. Just sitting there. Folded up exactly how I fold my money. Waiting just for me.

I quickly closed the door behind me, lest someone else see the treasure. I immediately felt guilty, trying to hoard someone’s loss, feeling some karmic retribution for this small trespass might befall me. I decided that, depending on the amount of said folded-up bill, I would report it to the property management company, who could subsequently blast a notification out to the tenants, only one of which would know the amount and last known whereabouts of said bill.

English: Statue of Sherlock Holmes in Edinburgh

It’s elementary, my dear Watson. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“It’s all good, Raegen. You’ll do the right thing,” I thought to myself. (Obviously — my name’s in there.)

Could the woman in the stall next to me see the treasure on the ground? I couldn’t tell. I waited until that door clicked opened. I heard her wash her hands and leave. I then bent down to claim my prize, which, in the end, was a small bill.


Still, in spite of its modest amount, I couldn’t help but feel that this was some weird stroke of luck. The amount wasn’t something anyone was going to cry over, so maybe certain tides were starting to turn for me that it was now mine, no harm, no foul.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

Turn around… (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This was two Fridays ago.

This past Tuesday, my theory was confirmed. I entered the LSR again, returning to my choice stall, as is my habit when it’s free. There on the floor, in nearly the same place as the money was, was a face-down business card.

This time I was alone. I closed the door and picked it up straightaway.

It was a man’s card, though I didn’t think that too strange, even though I was in the women’s restroom. It was what the card had on it — what this person did for a living — that made me think that I’d again received some sort of sign that my luck was changing, and for the better.

Greatest Hits (Ace of Base album)

I saw the sign, and it opened up my eyes. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As I was thinking about how I’d found these items now just a few short days apart from each other when I’d been visiting this stall regularly for over a year and 10 months with nothing more to speak of except the occasional stray piece of TP or a streak on the side of the bowl, it occurred to me that perhaps, as Superman used a phone booth (look it up, Millennials) to change into his superhero garb and prepare to save the world, I was being given signs that this particular bathroom stall would serve some broader function, might be the place where the mystical forces of the world would bestow knowledge upon me, give me clues as to my higher purpose in life — at least for the time being.

The Ajax Port-o-potty

Hey, don’t knock it, man; it could’ve been a port-o-potty. (Photo credit: Aaron Gustafson)

I then recalled how, as a child, if I was having a nightmare, I would find a dream LSR, lock myself in it, and wake myself up out of my bad dream by focusing on doing so in the privacy and protection of my own stall.

Yeah. I know. It’s weird. (Whatever. You’re weird. Jerk.)

Even in my unconscious state, even at as early an age as I can remember — which would probably be around 3 — the LSR has been my safe haven.

And now, one particular stall of a real-life LSR is giving me magical signs.

Am I the only one?

Five More Things You Would Never Say to a Man

This is a continuation of last week’s blog. It was getting a little long even for me, if you know what I mean.

(That’s what she said.)

OK, here’s new stuff for you to contemplate — five more things you would never say to a man.

1. “Honey, you look a little tired. I think you need some under-eye concealer to hide those rings.” Sometimes men look rough. You know what they have to do during those dark, desperate times? Deal with it — maybe go home and get a decent night’s sleep. Women, on the other hand, are treated as if a long night is some deep effin’ cause of concern, as if she’s caught some freaky infectious disease and needs treatment — STAT. Women get a whole line of expensive products to cover up the fact that they’re human too. Good times.

daily makeup

And you too can have all this for the low, low price of an entire paycheck, ladies! (Photo credit: haagenjerrys)

2. “Go pick up my dry cleaning.” Your spouse may say it, but your boss? Unlikely. Unless you’re a woman, that is. I think it’s funny how some people think it’s completely acceptable to treat a female employee as if, somewhere in her job description, there’s this little bulleted item listed in 8-point font somewhere that she missed which details her “surrogate wife functions and responsibilities” or something. Unless you’re really someone’s personal assistant — like, that’s the job title you hold and put on your resume — there is never any reason an employee should handle her boss’s laundry, period.

On another note, if on a regular basis — not as a once-in-a-while favor — you must ask your significant other, male or female, to do something as simple as completing a chore you’ve already passed off to someone else you’re paying to do it, I hope your partner has enough sense to tell you the same thing I would: “You’re an adult; go get it yourself.” I mean, it’s dry cleaning. It doesn’t get easier than that.

dry cleaning

It’s like my life wasn’t worth living before they invented this thing where I don’t even have to do my own laundry! (Photo credit: zoomar)

3. “Be a woman,” “Woman up,” or “Stop being such a man.” Statements like this — reversing the gender pronouns of all-too-common phrases — really illustrate how much we value the character traits we mistakenly attribute solely to one gender. I wouldn’t want to be a woman either, for example, if women weren’t strong, courageous or rational.

Good thing we are.

We Can Do It poster for Westinghouse, closely ...

Welcome to the gun show, bwotches! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

4. “I can’t believe you slept with ten different people in one weekend! What’s wrong with you?” It’s no shocker that the thing women are condemned for is the same thing men are lauded for. Call me conservative, but I think if you’ve done the above or something similar, it’s a good indication that, regardless of gender, you’ve got some pretty serious psychological issues going on. And I don’t think arguments like “That’s just how guys are” or “Women can be players too” justify an obvious dysfunction, either. So pardon me if I spare you the high-fives, “manly-men” and “liberated women,” in favor of handing you a referral to a mental health professional.

The Fainting Couch

On the couch — with your clothes on, please! (Photo credit: PhotoAtelier (Glen))

And now… the capper. Drum roll, please… Prepare yourselves, for this may very well shatter the foundations of all you can believe in and trust in this world…

5. Fight Club sucked.” I’m not afraid to tell you this truth, dudes. This movie was sheer ridiculousness. Along with confused ideologies, one-dimensional characters (including the multiple-personality one, which is a feat unto itself), and a cop-out ending that made me aware that I’d just wasted 139 minutes of my life that I could never get back, the idea that a man has to beat another man senseless to feel empowered in life is insulting to you. And if you don’t realize that, well, go form a fight club with someone strong enough to snap your neck in the first round and put us all out of the misery of your existence.

Fight Club (film)

The first rule of Fight Club really is: You do not talk about how dumb Fight Club actually is. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The female equivalent of this movie in my mind is Sex and the City. Touching on what I mentioned earlier in No. 4, the idea that women are somehow “liberated” by being promiscuous and careless with their bodies, minds, and spirits is just insulting to one’s intelligence. Add to that “subliminal” messaging about what “sexy” women wear, and it’s enough to make this girl want to go burn down the set while everyone’s still there rolling footage.

Sex and the City (film)

Oh, I’ll get “Carried away,” all right — but I was thinking more along the lines of the Stephen King-esque, light-that-pink-nightmare-on-fire sort of carried away…  (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I send my personal thanks to whoever finally made this show die. Now if that person would only promise me an end to the movie franchise as well…

So now that I’ve gotten all this out of the way, what’s my point, you may wonder. Here’s the thing — and it should be obvious, but even Corky from Life Goes On seems smarter than most people I meet these days, so I’ll ‘splain it for those folks: If you’d never say these things to a man, what makes people think it’s appropriate to say these things to anyone, let alone women? It’s remarkable — but ultimately unjustifiable — that even the smallest of verbal interactions change so drastically based on what’s in a person’s panties.

After all, let us not forget that some of you gents out there do, in fact, wear panties.

Which is fine by me, as long as they’re not mine.

Women's panties or knickers

I’ve never seen these before, so consider them fair game, boys! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Five Things You Would Never Say to a Man

I currently work in an office of women. All women. Well, there’s one man, but he’s gay and a temp, so his brief influence upon the office dynamics will be negligible.

Not to be a traitor to my own gender, and not even to complain, but I am not a “girly-girl.” Which to me simply means I’ve questioned and continue to question most of the brainwashing — er, socialization — specific to gender in America (though, of course, we know the problem is global, though it comes in different flavors) and adhere to it mostly just when it is required of me for business purposes (e.g., attending trade shows in women’s business attire, which thankfully includes pantsuit options). And there are times when I feel an ethical dilemma coming on even about that — but hey, at least no one’s asked me to strip for my paycheck… yet.

Author: Duy Le UCLA made stripper pole

I’m highly offended that this stripper pole is being objectified. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I tend not to talk about the things my cohort does. Heck, I tend not to care about the things my cohort does — latest fashion trends, Desperate Housewives, weddings, having kids, yadda, yadda.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with caring about these things. People care about what they care about, and they’re entitled to that. It just so happens I could give a crap about any of it. And sometimes I wish that, like me, people would question why they care about what they do.

10 Things I Hate About You (soundtrack)

“I know you can be overwhelmed, and I know you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But that’s not up to me, so anyway…

There are many things that occur in my workplace that I have the sneaking suspicion would never happen if there was — for lack of a better description — some sort of balance to the force, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder how different it might be if there were more men — or less “girly-girl” types, at least — in this environment.

Hence the subject of this blog. The fact that I’m even thinking about this, along with the things I’ve witnessed up to this point in my life, have made me realize just how different the standards women are held to are from the standards men are held to — and even scarier, how sometimes it’s women themselves holding (or trying to hold) each other to these. And I’m not saying the standards men are held to are any less oppressive and ridiculous in their own ways, or that men don’t perpetuate them amongst themselves either. I’m just saying…

You’d never say this to a man. (Well, at least not a heterosexual one, which brings up the whole issue of why anyone in their right mind would adopt the behaviors of the oppressed — but that’s another topic for another blog.)

1. “You seem upset. Is it that time of the month?” This is what I consider to be a classic societal blunder. The assumption that the most likely cause for a woman’s anger, sadness, etc., is because of her hormones is one of the biggest insults anyone using this “logic” can levy against a woman. Men may not have blood we can blame their emotions on — and oh, they are emotional just like the rest of us — so I guess in their case, we actually have to use our heads and try to get down to a genuine cause for distress as opposed to some unruly bodily force that allegedly renders an entire population irrational.

Margaret Atwood

Man, if only Margaret Atwood would stop having her period already, I bet she’d make much more sense! (Photo credit: ejmc)

This is not to say hormones don’t affect moods. That’s a scientific fact. But guess what? Men have hormones too — which cycle on a daily basis as well as a monthly one. So if we were going to use logic to blame hormones for mood swings, who logically would be the better choice: men or women?

2. “That outfit makes you look fat.” I would be tickled to see someone say this to a man. Actually, I’d just be curious to see the response. I could imagine someone getting clocked for a statement like that to a man. But first off, men are never fat; they’re stocky or have big builds. And admittedly, when women ask other women if an outfit makes them look fat, they’re never fat either; the person questioned will respond something like, “It doesn’t flatter your fill-in-the blank.” But do not be fooled: This is simply the female translation of, “Yes, that outfit makes you look fat.”

And what does that woman in the “unflattering outfit” go and do? Feel bad about herself and change. Now, don’t get me wrong — I’m all in favor of people not wearing styles that don’t fit their body types, which is again why no one should wear skinny jeans ever. But most clothing will look decent on anyone if they’re just bought in the right size — as opposed to, you know, trying to rock two sizes too small. That would make even Kate Moss look fat.

baby clothes

These would definitely make Kate Moss look like a heifer. (Photo credit: carrie-ann-nelson)

3. “I’m so jealous — Bobby’s way hotter than us.” Along the lines of objectifying oneself through clothing and makeup instead of gaining attention and respect through intelligence and hard work, there seems to be this constant comparison of hotness among women. Some of it, of course, is perpetuated by media, society, and men as well. But I’m pretty sure guys don’t sit around secretly begrudging their friends or gossiping about them for being “hotter” than they are, and I’m also pretty sure they don’t think their friends’ success in life has much to do with appearance. And guys, if you do believe your appearance ultimately determines your relationship success, for instance, I have two words for you: Pete Doherty.

Everyone has something to offer, and beauty really is in the eye of the beholder. But I hope for everyone’s sake that the perceived “beauty” of a person will truly be assessed deeper than the layers of one’s skin as our society evolves.

4. “Your wedding planning will exhaust you.” I’m pretty sure — though men, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong — that guys don’t sit around dreaming of their perfect wedding. “It has to be on the beach in Jamaica. I have to wear a white dress, but it has to have pale pink accents, but only around the waist. It has to have a tropical paradise theme. My bridesmaids will be my sisters, my best friend from high school, but definitely not the best friend from college, though she’s invited. I want to have lilies in my bouquet, but they can’t have a fragrance, because I want the fragrance of the roses to be predominant. I want to have an outdoor reception, but I also want hanging lights in case the sky is cloudy so it still feels like there are stars. I have to have filet — no other cut of beef — for the dinner. And I simply won’t be satisfied unless my wedding cake is white, milk, and dark chocolate in descending order.”

Are you feeling queasy yet? Yeah, me too.

Bridezilla will kick your ass and look lovely ...

I said “descending order”! Now you’re going to have to die! (Photo credit: laura47)

I think guys have it right when it comes to this sort of stuff. “Did I find a great girl? Check. Is she at the altar? Check. Am I up there too? Check. Are the people we love here to celebrate with us? Check. OK, I think we’re all good.”

I mean, I get that there’s planning involved to make that come together, but if you’re blathering about all these other inane details on the daily that in the end won’t make a bit of difference if the truly important components aren’t there, then I think you’ve seriously lost sight of the whole point of a wedding in the first place. Just sayin’…

5. “Can you baby-sit my kids this weekend?” We don’t expect men to be willing or — dare I say it? — entirely capable of being able to handle the responsibility of caring for children — especially if said children aren’t their own — alone. It’s the stuff that many cheesy movie plots are made of. But on top of this, we expect that men will already have far more important and “manlier” things to take care of on the weekend, since their responsibilities take precedence over all. Neither, of course, is true.

I don’t blame those men who don’t want this responsibility for not wanting it, though. I don’t want it either — and no, that’s not a comment on my abilities or lack of “maternal instinct.” I just have other things I’d like to devote my time to, thank you very much.

Books behind the bed

Ahh… that’s more like it! (Photo credit: zimpenfish)

But there is the issue of trusting men with certain tasks too — especially considering all the rightful attention being given to child sexual abuse. This is not to say women don’t ever abuse children, but according to this study, “more than 90% of the perpetrators of sexual offenses against minors were male.” In light of highly publicized and despicable offenses like Jerry Sandusky’s, it should be overwhelmingly clear that there is a need for some sort of societal shift that would make this behavior so unacceptable that someone even thinking about perpetrating such crimes would kill themselves before inflicting such abuse upon children.

Stay tuned for five more things you would never say to a man, which I’ll post next week.