Full. Body. Eyeroll.

So there's been a lovely kerfuffle going on this week, the simple summary of which is, Can you be a hot girl and a nerd?

Leaving aside the irritating use of "girl" to describe adult women, I haven't really had any commentary other than a side-eye.

I finally figured out my response, left as a comment on the above linked post.

Here it is. Ready?

If you can’t be a hot girl and a nerd, what the hell have my best girl friends and I been doing since childhood?

Sheesh.

That’s really all I have to say on the subject, with a healthy punctuation of a full-body eyeroll.

There you go. There's my soundbite.

Spirit Day

I am against homophobic bullying.

I am against all bullying.

You are not alone.

If you find us, it will get better.

Please find us.

We're here, and we're looking for you, too.

A Love Letter to Someone Else

Spoilers for Scott Pilgrim vs the World

Tonight I saw Scott Pilgrim for a second time.

When I came out of it on Saturday, I was filled with OMG THAT WAS AWESOME. Tonight? Not so much.

Tonight I realized that regardless of all the references I caught, squees over the perfect casting, covetousness over various costume pieces and accessories...this movie wasn't written for me.

In fact, I am merely a coathanger to the plot of that love letter. I'm not an active participant--and neither was Ramona Flowers.

This movie (and the comic) was, quite literally, a story about how a woman's past just about killed the guy interested in her.

Josh, very astutely, compared this story to High Fidelity, noting that they were similar tales of different stages in "mens' lives."

Both sources are excellent, innovative, and honestly new takes on a yawn-inducingly tired story. One that, again, has nothing to do with me.

While she had a bit more "there" there in the comic, Ramona Flowers is nothing more than a Manic Pixie Dream Girl. No amount of hair color shifts, pithy one-liners, or awesome fight skills make up a character. Shit, even Knives had more character development than she did. (I'm referring solely to the movie, here. The Knives plot was resolved far sooner in the comic.)

I guess, in the end, I feel very hurt that a movie I was told was for me, wasn't for me at all. And in fact, doesn't regard me at all.

I'm not saying the movie was bad. My qualms aside, it truly was a hat tip to almost every subculture to which I hold a membership. Edgar Wright once again proved his brilliance.

I just wish...the love had been more inclusive.

Misdirected Advertising -or- The Man I Could Smell Like

Hello from Gallifrey One!

It's a touch early for a con report, so instead, I have this tale to share...

So on Friday morning, we took our Bataan Death March out to the Ralph's for provisions.

While at Ralph's, I picked up a bottle of Old Spice body wash just to be able to rejoin the group, hold it up and start quoting the commercial.

And then I opened it and smelled and realized, Damn! That smells awesome! I want to smell like that!

So now I, a woman, have purchased the soap that smells like "the man my man could smell like."

I mean, I suppose Josh could use this and smell awesome, but he smells awesome naturally, so it's not something that's really a priority.

But I like to smell awesome, and I prefer musky scents, and hey, yeah, all right.

So now I've made a purchase, pretty directly influenced by a commercial, but as a woman, I've done exactly the opposite of the intent of said commercial.

And you know what? I'm sure I can't be the only one.