Let’s be honest ladies – even a PhD isn’t an excuse to look like a sad mushroom in lab. Just because your day is filled with cleaning up rodent poo doesn’t mean your beauty shouldn’t shine forth! I have been working in an animal laboratory for over 10 years now, and I have picked up little tricks along the way to make sure that even the drabbest of labs can’t shroud my popping looks. Below, I have demonstrated some of my favorite tips. Please study carefully to properly employ in your own laboratory setting, and let me know if you have any of your own sassy tricks to add to the mix!
Feeling beautiful? Send me your own laboratory glam looks!
Recently I conducted a fairly routine bout of social media stalking in which I casually browse through the profiles of acquaintances and harshly judge their life decisions. During the course of this healthy and completely non-invasive practice, I came across the profile of a girl I used to know. As I clicked through her public posts and pics like a social media ninja, I was distraught to see several close-up pics of her n*ps.
To be fair, there was always a baby very close or attached to said n*ps. Apparently these up-close-and-way-too-personal pics were her way of advocating for breast-feeding and not being shamed for being a woman. Here’s the thing, fellas and gals –
You can breastfeed all the day long, and never post a picture of it. It’s truly not necessary. If you’re super into public advocacy, just post information about how healthy the practice is. Done.
Just because you hide something or keep something private doesn’t mean that you’re “ashamed.” I’m not ashamed of peeing in a toilet, but I don’t take a selfie of myself grinning over a pot with all my bits showing just to prove a point.
People’s discomfort with your nekkidness IS your problem. Whether or not bosoms should or should not be a sexual thing is another subject for another day. But the reality is, they are. So when you nonchalantly get upper-body-nekkid to feed your child, you are basically inviting everyone within sight to leer at your assets. Hell, I can’t help but stare just because it makes me uncomfortable. Yes. I, a young single straight woman, am made wildly uncomfortable by your n*ps.
Women and men are ABSOLUTELY allowed to tell you what to do with your body – when it violates their rights as they work and do public activities. Men shouldn’t be ashamed of their members, but I don’t want them whipping them out and waving them around as they use them for any part of their natural, beautiful, awe-inspiring, healthy function. In fact, I believe we call men who do this “flashers,” arrest them, and put them on sexual predator lists if they even urinate too close to an elementary school or playground. So I don’t give a hoot if breastfeeding is natural, beautiful, awe-inspiring, or healthy. I still don’t want to see it, and I have a right to work or play in public without seeing your n*ps.
So please, moms… throw a blanket over them. That’s all I ask. Namaste.
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
I mainly used n*ps to hopefully cut down on people hunting for tatas on the interwebs to find themselves reading this blog. Not really my targeted audience, know what I mean green beans?
I do not like ministries, events, bible studies, parties, special gatherings, prayer meetings, small groups, etc. etc. etc. that are specific to women. They deeply irritate me. Porquoi?
I don’t have all that much in common with other women, anymore than I do with an arbitrary group of 29 year olds, brunettes, or lovers of poke bowls
Men do not intimidate me or make me uncomfortable. I do not have better conversations without men. I like that they think differently, especially about matters of faith. I have found mixed-sex discussions are richer, not stilted.
I understand that many women struggle with issues of self-worth and have painful pasts that involve exploitation. My heart goes out to them – truly. That being said, it seems like many women’s ministries focus almost exclusively on women like this, and ignore women like me whose struggle is more about figuring out how to live a meaningful life with integrity as a professional.
I also understand that many women are married and have kids. That is gucci gang. BUT similar to point 3, I am not. And I wouldn’t say getting married and having kids is my ultimate life goal.* So I also don’t get a lot from hearing exclusively from women who are trying to figure out how to be wives and moms. Not that I can’t be friends with these women or learn from them, but I don’t need an entire event centered around hearing from and connecting with women who I have almost nothing in common with. I have even less in common with them in life situation and specific faith struggles than I do with say.. a 34 year old dude who is an electrical engineer. It would make more sense for me to have a specific event for Nerdy Upper 20s Who are Functional but are Feeling a Little Lost in Life.
Women’s ministry events often include horrid assumptions about what sort of woman I am and what I like. “Aaaaaaaaaaand we’re giving away a $500 Anthropologie gift card!” *crowd goes wild* *Cgallo goes into a silent white rage* Seriously, I’ve never had more sexist silly assumptions made about me (e.g. “OMG I live for shopping!!!!! I remortgaged my house to buy this purse!”) than at a women’s ministry event.
Last but not least, y’all – it’s the names of the groups and events. What in Beth Moore is going on? Are we studying the bible, or getting facials? Who can tell?
Let me show you a series of real logos from actual women’s ministries or actual spas – doctored only to remove the “giveaway” words. Which do you think are women ministries, and which do you think are spas?
Soooo what do you think? The odd numbers are women’s ministries and the even numbers are spas? WRONG. These are all women ministries! What?!
Okay okay, let’s try again.
I know what you’re all thinking… “We’re on to you, CGallo! Those are all women’s ministries AGAIN!” Well guess what suckerzzzz, yer wrong, all wrong! #6-10 are all spas in Atlanta or NYC! What?!!
The takeaway of this post.. I think? .. is this proposal — ladies let’s just skip women ministry events and hit the spa because both are about women empowerment and feeling better about yourself and being in man-free zones and girl talk and faint spiritual undertones and strong plant-life overtones. Woooo! Let’s do it!
— EDITORIAL NOTES — * I would rather meet someone and love them so much that I can’t stand not being married to them, not so much “I MUST get married and have 5 kids before age 35!” because THAT specific boat for this gal has not just sailed but sunk around age 26. ANYWAY
When I was a wee sprout, I read this story about two princes who were both given fancy-shmancy jackets by the King (their Pops). Their one charge was to take care of the jackets. The two princes then encounter various catastrophes throughout their day. They both see a man with his wagon stuck in the mud. One prince says, “sorry Charlie, getting you out of that mud would mess up my fly jacket.” But the other prince rolls up his sleeves and helps the stranded guy, and his jacket is flecked with mud. Later, there is a fire in the village. One prince says, “Not my prob,” but the other runs in a burning house and rescues people, and his jacket is burnt with holes. And more things like this happen, and one prince keeps his jacket clean while the other one almost completely destroys his. At the end of the day, the King is outraged that the one prince has really effed up his jacket, but then the townspeople come forward and explain all that he did to help them. The king learns that the jacket was destroyed not through carelessness or disrespect, but through care and respect for others. Then the king publicly honors the ruin’t jacket prince and shames the immaculate-jacket prince for his selfishness.*
The moral of the story, I think, was about value. Yes, the jackets were snazzy and deserved to be cared for. But one prince (rightly) saw that living a life worth living necessitated messing up his jacket.
This is a very long intro to something I’ve been thinking about lately, especially in my grisly old age.
TRYING TO BE BEAUTIFUL WHEN YOU’RE AN AGING WOMAN IS THE WORST.
Think about it – what’s valued in women, beauty wise? Wrinkle free and soft skin is sexy. Having no extra body fat anywhere (EXCEPT in the “right” places, of course) is sexy. Pretty nails are at least.. appreciated, even if they aren’t sexy per se. Grey hair is not really acceptable, much less valued, until you are at least 65. Etc. etc .etc.
What’s valued in men? Wrinkles are fine. Rough hands are sexy. Muscles are sexy. Pretty nails are *not* sexy, imo. Grey foxes are sexy. Etc. etc etc.
I’m not just trying to say “beauty standards for women are unfair!” Plenty o’ people have already said that. My point is that the more men live their lives and DO STUFF, the more sexy they become. But for women, the more we live active lives, the less sexy we become.
To achieve the perfect beauty regimen, women should do nothing but lounge around in a spa. They shouldn’t do anything with their hands so they’ll stay soft and our nails won’t get janky. We shouldn’t go outside in any weather that’s too cold, or our skin will dry out. Too windy, we’ll get wind-chapped. Too sunny, and we’ll get wrinkles. And to maintain our 900 calories/day to keep up our prepubescent figures, we should be practically comatose. Oh, and we probably shouldn’t do any real work so we don’t accidentally get real functional muscles.
I would like to propose to women everywhere that we think about our looks like the prince did his jacket. Should we abuse it just to abuse it? No. There’s no honor in binge drinking or refusing to exercise. But… am I going to refuse to go hiking on a sunny day or do science lab work (it’s very rough on the hands, tbh) or do anything remotely stressful so that I can make sure my skin doesn’t wrinkle, my hands don’t get rough and calloused, and my hair doesn’t gray?
“Fooie patooie” – C Galloswag
Naw. Let’s live our lives, ladies, and let the hands roughen, the wrinkles deepen, and the hairs grey. So what if the sleeping beauties are more beautiful than us? The Prince Charmings can have ’em. I’ll be fighting communism with Prince Janky-Jacket 😉
— EDITORIAL NOTES —
*I read this story over 20 years ago, so I’m basically making up all the details. But this was essentially what happened 😀
A question that has kept me up night after night, tossing and turning anxiously, is “Am I basic??” So I took to the interwebs to do some high quality, unbiased research. I scoured the accounts of all my social media contacts who are indubitably basic, focusing specifically on profile pictures. I then coalesced my findings into 4 archetypical selfies that are strong predictors for basicity. KNOW THE SIGNS!
1. The Sassy Bathroom Babe
2. The Artsy Fartsy.
3. The Bashful.
4. The Au Natural.
Did I miss any key archetypes of basic white girl selfies? If so, please submit your examples!!!
I don’t like to be dramatic, but I am surrounded by terrorists. Yes, people who strike fear and hatred into even my tenderest of hearts. People who make the world a worse place for everyone.
The most insidious part of it all is that most of these terrorists go unrecognized, and their reign of terror marches on unabashedly. The burden falls on me to call out these commonplace, run-of-the-mill DESTROYERS OF JOY for what they are: every-day terrorists.
Ready? You should take notes.
1) Gym screamers
We’ve all been there – you’re keeping to yourself, being a model gym citizen, and then you hear it – half tortured yet half rapturous, someone is squealing and hollering with each rep. Are they feeling extreme pain? Are they feeling inappropriate pleasure? No one knows exactly, but we all know that we feel wildly uncomfortable.
2) Chronic flakes
Not to be confused with corn flakes, these are those people who take a perverse delight in contacting you regularly to hang out, and then canceling last minute. Cancel once – nbd. Cancel twice – jokes on me. Cancel thrice – leave me be.
3) Eaters of boiled eggs in the work place
Thought sulfur warfare was the stuff of Old Testament curses? Not if your co-worker Brad has rolled out his lean-protein-diet on the cheap.
4) Humorless hacks
Aka, people who don’t laugh at my jokes. Basically useless human beings.
5) People who are beautiful without trying
*incensed, Gallohag sets her 1,394 beauty products on fire*
6) Plate food intermixers
Friend: “Ima just let this bean juice run all up in this here coleslaw..”
These are the top 6. Is it coincidental that if you have three 6s together, you have the el numero de diablo?
If you have additional terrorist types to report, please notify me immediately. Our happiness, nay – our future.. NAY – our children’s happiness in the future with how happy our future was with their happy future !!!! depends on it.
I read this article the other day that was written by an overweight woman for overweight women. Some of the article I really liked, but the last paragraph lost me. The author confidently asserted to the millions of women her article was addressed to that they were beautiful, no matter how much they weighed.
Oh geez. Okay – does being overweight automatically exclude you from being beautiful? No! But being overweight does not automatically transform you into Beyoncé, either. We need to stop whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, especially if those sweet nothings are unknowable or knowably false.
Saying everyone has some positive attribute ruins the meaning, value, and specialness of that attribute.
I think why we feel so compelled to say all women are beautiful is we have a strong compulsion to affirm everyone’s value. Therefore, everyone must be beautiful.
But let’s all collectively gasp as we realize the sneaky unspoken assumption – that women who aren’t beautiful aren’t valuable. That is the real problem – not that the majority of a given group of people for a given period in time will inevitably prize certain physical features over others. Even if it’s not fair, it just is what it is and we have to learn to work with what we’ve got. So let’s come to terms with the idea that some women do not fit society’s beauty standards as well as others – but they still have value. There’s more to life than arousing as many men as possible before we die. I hope you see Eleanor Roosevelt and mother Theresa as more valuable human beings than the most famous porn star in the world, whoever she may be.
So I plead with you – stop lying to people, and stripping away the meaning of words, especially “beautiful.” Let beautiful mean something again!
Hurrah to ugly, valuable women!
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