Spreading the Bechdel Word

Lots of movies are sexist.

The first person to clearly point that out to me: my old movie professor, Doug Something. (Learn about the male gaze!)

The second person to clearly point that out to me: my roommate, Baumity Baum Baum. She told me about the Bechdel Test, and now I am going to tell YOU about the Bechdel Test.

For a movie to pass the Bechdel Test, it has to have these 3 things:
1. Two female characters
2. Two female characters who talk to each other
3. Two female characters who talk to each about something other than men.

That shouldn't be so hard, right? Tell that to the stinking directors, producers, and writers!

Most of my favorite movies pass it, namely The Sound of Music, Sister Act, A League of Their Own, and I thiiiiink Moulin Rouge.

However, I love plenty of movies that sure as HECK don't pass it, including Star Wars, Up, Dogma, 40-Year-Old Virgin, Forrest Gump, Armageddon, When Harry Met Sally, and a billion more.

But I get it. Who wants to hear women talk about politics, puppies, money, or hot air balloons? It's unnatural. It shouldn't happen. Get out of here, dynamic female characters!

Words and herbs.

You guys. I have a plant posse.

I photographed my planter, but my camera is in the living room, and who wants to walk all the way out there and then upload them? Nobody. So I am going to describe it in words.

Herb Garden simile:
My herb garden is like a chorus of angels.

Herb Garden metaphor:
My herb garden is freedom.

Herb Garden personification:
My herb garden feels excited to be ripped apart and crushed in my summer beverages.

Herb Garden hyperbole:
My herb garden is filling the universe with its fresh, delicate scent.

Herb Garden alliteration:
My herb garden grazes Gary's* goblinesque grandmother.

Herb Garden assonance:
My herb garden sighs as it lies and waits for July.

Herb Garden cut and dry description:
My herb garden contains 4 herbs - oregano, cilantro, basil, and mint - and they're crammed in a 24"(ish) x 9"(ish) by 9"(ish) wooden box. They make me smile every morning.


*I don't know a Gary.

Precious 6th grade boy does a killer Lady Gaga song!

Woweewowowow!

KJW: Patience-Haver, Money-Saver

You want to know why I'm blogging like it was 2008? Because it's free!

I've been thinking about cash-money and how I don't have any, and how if I want a dog, it'll take some of that non-cash. What do I do? Suze Orman knows.

So a little online research, a whole lot of using my parents cable to watch Suze shoot down a guy's dream of a house boat, and some honest and kind-of-fun reflection made me realize this: I need to save like whoa.

Ain't no thang. I am freaking about "low" levels in my checking account that once would have been thrillingly "high". But Suze Orman would tell me that until I have an impressivo emergency savings account, I can't cure Puppy Fever with a spaniel, retriever, or any other caniney rascal.

In sum, I have a new goal. Wait wait, let's capitalize it...
New Goal: Save 12 grand. Get a dog. Take it to the park and giggle at its silly tricks while I bask in financial security.

Eye-steered car: a bad idea

Some goofballs are creating a car that's steered by your eyes. What?! Can you imagine how many puppies my car would run into?!

Childish vs. Childlike

I'm seeing my peers get all "Oh, I'm not going to do this fun, hilarious thing because that's childish." What ding dongs! Fake mustaches are not childish. They're childlike.

Here are more examples to deepen your understanding:

Childish: calling in sick to work because you're tired :(
Childlike: doing a Beyonce dance to wake up from the tiredness :)

Childish: spending all your money on chocolate bars instead of housing :(
Childlike: having your friends paint Lady GaGa masterpieces to fancy up your home in a frugal way :)

Childish: not taking your car in to get oil changes :(
Childlike: writing hysterical things on friends' (with senses of humor) dirty cars like "I wish my boyfriend was this dirty!" :) (Don't do that if your friend is going on a job interview or something. Then this would be childish.)

Childish: pouting about friends' boringness :(
Childlike: having a box of silly hats your friends can wear when they come over :)

To summarize, in 12, 28, and 45 years, I'll be (a) financially stable and (b) a riot! And I'll hang out with you if you're a riot, too... and/or you're financially stable and will take me out on your boat.

The Year of 25, starting yesterday.

Remember when I was 24? Man, what a goof I was. Now I'm 25. I'm fancy. I'm wrinkly.

That birthday, I declared some stuff. It was the Year of the Lemons, the Year of Comfortable Shoes, the Year of Susan Boyle, etc. All good choices. I was wise for a 24-year-old.

It's time to move on to greater things, though.

The Year of 25:
-The Year of Fiscal Responsibility
-The Year of Nicki Minaj
-The Year of Late Morning Snuggles
-The Year of Public Transportation

I considered declaring The Year of Making Friends with People Who Own Boats, but I'll save that for 26. That would be too much pressure for my peer group in this tough economic time.

Happy Birthday to me!

A peeve

For an English teacher, I'm not persnickity about grammar. Honestly. If a person says "safe" when they should have "safely", I don't judge. When I read "gonna" in my students' papers, I don't freak out.

But for some reason, I struggle to respect those who consistently mix up "you're" and "your". If I send you "Thanks!" via text and you respond "Your welcome", I'll squint my eyes in anger and make a mental note to no longer express gratitude to you.

Overall, though, I love all words and the people who say them. Your all super!





I don't know if I have the strength to let that joke remain.

Dog Fever

Some people have Spring Fever. Others have Baby Fever. I have Dog Fever.

Ohmygodiwantadogsobadly.

I do have a wonderful roomdog (like a roommate, but a dog), Solomon. I freaking love Solomon. He is the sweetest, gentlest dog in North America. However, he's not mine. I want one of my own! To name and to cuddle!

And, ok, I have Abey Lincoln. He is a magnificent cat, and I already forgive him for trying to gnaw on my chin while I drank my tea. But could Abey hack it in the dog park? H no.

I am not in the life position for a dog... yet. Some day I will be. I'll have a few extra dollars, some spare backyard, and I'll be comfortable in the "got to go home and take care of Notorious D.O.G." routine.

For now, though, I get my canines fix by invading strangers' personal spaces and petting their dogs at farmers' markets, beaches, and coffee shops that somehow get around the health codes. Oh, and petfinder.com. Thank the internet for that wonderful petfinder.com.

Elephant Seals

When my pal Baum and I drove from Santa Barbara to Seattle, we hung out with baby elephant seals.


Look at this. A whole beach of baby elephant seal. Plus, there was one big daddy. I will post a picture of him... now!


Guess how enormous he is. No, bigger. He is nearly 16 feet long! My dad, Oats, is just over six feet tall, so imagine 2 2/3 of Oats. Whoa. Plus, when this elephant seal rears up to wobble his giant nose at another guy elephant seal, he stands about eight feet tall. Don't mess with him. He will get you.

According to Wikipedia, the largest elephant seal ever recorded was 11,000 pounds and over 22 feet long. Omg.

When it comes down to it, though, I am more impressed by the adorable babies than by the giganto males.


Stab me in the heart with a cute fork. I'm done.

This narrows me down to 1.5% of the population, I bet.

Things I Like That Most People Don't:

-Watching college fastpitch on TV. How do I watch TV if I don't have channels? The gym! It's perfect. The elliptical, UW TV, and the nation's champions. I enjoy fastpitch more than baseball, in fact, because it's faster and the girls cheer. Cheer! Like, cheers that rhyme!

-Doing dishes. It's soothing, and my hands are always dry anyway, so it doesn't have any negative side effects. Clean forks, relaxing minutes, and, when no one else is around, NPR on the radio. When I'm old and rich, I will get a kitchen with two giant sinks. (Dangit. Now the boyfriend knows I don't wash his dishes to be nice.)

-Eating plain, non-fat yogurt. To be fair, I prefer yogurt with flavors, but just examine the ingredients. The cheap, plan stuff has, like, three ingredients, while the others have a billion, several of which I can't pronounce. Unacceptable. Give me the basic, and I'll add my own flair... and by "flair", I mean blueberries and nothing else, because I am in a breakfast rut.

That's all I can think of. My tastes aren't unique. If I made a Stuff I Like That Most People Also Like, it'd be even longer than a detailed list of how many times Abe Lincoln tries to get my attention when I am busy. "Woweewow!" you say. I know. So this is it. Softball, dishes, and yogurt. I'm a teensy bit unique.

Get back in my life, speakers.

I didn't appreciate computer speakers while I had them.

In the olden days, I could put on a Nicki Minaj playlist and dance while cleaning my room.

In the olden days, I could snuggle up with the boyfriend and watch a documentary about the beer industry on streaming Netflix.

In the olden days, I could enjoy "Single Ladies" Youtube videos without getting flat hair from headphones.

My life is a lot harder now.