Don’t Call Me “Honey” or “Sweetie” or “Baby”

Unless you are my older relative, a sarcastic friend, or the person I’m dating, you are not allowed to call me petnames.  It’s weird and creepy.  It’s also harassment.

My name is not “Sweetheart.”  My name is not “Honey,” or is this a horribly made movie from 2003 (see the imbd page here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0322589/). I like to be called by my name when people know my name.
If you don’t know someone’s name, there are still plenty of very appropriate ways to address them.  For example, if you see a young woman in your office and she drops a paper, you can call after her by saying, “Miss!” or “Excuse me, ma’am!” or just say, “Wait!”  All of these are still respectful, appropriate and will get her attention most likely.
If you do know someone’s name, use it.  Do not nickname a co-worker unless you have solid rapport or they nickname you first.  If you are not equals on the corporate ladder or in similar positions in your organization, respect that.  You wouldn’t call your boss a petname, and giving one to an employee below you in rank is highly inappropriate.  In fact, it’s harassment.
If a man at work calls me, “Sweetheart” he is sexually harassing me.
If a woman at works calls me, “Sweetheart” is that also harassment?
YES.
I know it’s well-meaning, and comes from an odd maternal place, but that’s not okay.  There shouldn’t be a double-standard when it comes to harassment.  Continual, repeated instances of disrespectful language, even between women, amount to harassment.  Women can be perpetrators of harassment, of assault, of abuse, and of sexual violence.  Women are not always victims, either.
In my case, these are women who are notably older than me, who are asserting themselves into a maternal or mentoring role without my permission and without reason are unwelcome.  I have a boss.  I have a mentor.  I have a mother.  I don’t need your weird petnames.  I don’t need to be cooed.
My name is not Sweetie and I will not tolerate being talked to like a dog or a baby in the workplace.
In conclusion, my name is Patty.

Thighs of Glory (Read: Beyonce’s Thighs)

(Amendment at end.)

Today, I learned that I have thighs of glory.  This does not mean my thighs are skinny, because they are not and they never will be.  Skinny thighs give me the creeps.  A “gentleman” walking about downtown Ann Arbor exclaimed upon seeing my pasty, glorious thighs, that they were, in fact, “Sweet and juicy.”  My first reaction, as always, was to get incredibly angry.  I generally get hypermasculine, start swearing, and calling people dudes when I am approached in this manner.  As you might imagine, I do not like being approached by random men who want to comment on my specific body parts and their potential “uses.”  Instead, I simply laughed at these strange and utterly creepy proclamations of my thigh’s awesomeness.

I thought to myself, “Here I am, a slightly-less-fat-than-average person with well-developed leg muscles (mostly the calves), pasty skin, a partial sunburn on my forehead, jiggly thighs, and fairly low self-esteem.  Yet, this possibly drunk man has enjoyed the show (by show, I mean that I walked by in longer-than-apparently-average shorts).  Maybe, I will just laugh at this and be thankful that someone out there still understands that thighs are meant to be thick, strong, and fleshy.  Thighs should look like thighs.”

I would much rather have Beyonce’s thighs of glory (however pastier, less toned, and altogether less glorious), than skinny thighs (ahem, LeAnn Rhimes, Victoria Beckham, Kiera Knightly, almost every model, and Miley Cyrus).  I would rather look like Serena Williams than a 12-year-old.  Skinny thighs are for children.  Thick thighs are for women.

Beyonce looks amazing. Her thighs are made of glory, sunshine, dance skills, and squats.

Seriously, how great does Beyonce look?  This lady helped bring back the popularity of thicker thighs, and I am thankful.  The ladies who write this blog are fans of curves.  Curves are normal.  Beyonce is clearly above average in all ways, but I think we need to remember the glory of “sweet and juicy thighs.”

This picture is so intimidating and amazing. Serena Williams could jump over a skyscraper with those legs. She could crush anything. They are glorious.

Serena Williams could destroy us all with her thighs.  I feel pretty good about that.  She is strong and sexy; her presence in pop culture is good for women with curves.

I know that this post may seem a bit strange.  *After all, I did get inspiration from a drunken cat call.*  However, it is somewhat comforting that people are appreciating pale, fleshy thighs.  That’s all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Amendment:

After reading some comments, I realize that this post needs clarification.  Thin thighs are not “unacceptable,” “horrible,” nor are they somehow inherently “bad.”  It is not bad to be a thin person.  No one is a villain simply having thin thighs.

What is bad and scary, then?

It is bad and scary to push a body to extremes.  It is bad to glorify thinness above all else.  It is bad to glorify unhealthy habits that push people into unhealthy weights.  Just as a person can be too fat, a person can be too thin.  Both are bad.  The thing, not a lot of people are striving to be fat.  A lot of people are spending their days and nights obsessing over being thin at any price.  A lot of people have blogs and tumblrs devoted to “thinspo” with all kinds of ways to get skinny.  There are too many little girls and women out there who hurt themselves to achieve a level of thin that is not healthy for them.

That said, making thin women the villain is wrong.

Thin women just so happen to be thin.  Many people want to be thin, and that’s okay.  But wanting to be thin, or wanting to have Beyonce’s thighs, at any cost… that’s scary.

Also, Beyonce is amazing.

Look Before You Squat: One Woman’s Advice on Toilet Seats

Ladies, look before you sit.  This seems to have reached epidemic levels.  Ladies’ lady parts are plunging themselves into toilets because they aren’t looking before plopping their naked asses on seats other people pee on.  This is something I, as a lady, find confusing.  You see, I’m quite protective of my bum and genitals, thus I look before I squat.

I always have, and thus, I have never fallen into the toilet.  I am really tired of hearing women complain about men leaving the seat up like they’re being attacked and/or disrespected.  Someone just forgot.  It’s like if someone left a seat cushion off a couch…  but you’d probably see that first, and then put it back before setting your rear end on it.  How is this a guy’s responsibility?  You should be more concerned about your own bum.  You should care more.  You shouldn’t feel so entitled.  Also, it’s just a damn toilet seat.  Just move it.  You’ll have to wash your hands either way.

Yes, I think it makes sense for the person who originally moved the seat to move it back, but who gives a crap?  (Pun SO, SO intended.)

Just look.  You’re putting your naked butt (which is really close to you genitals) on something AND YOU’RE NOT GONNA LOOK?

Just look.  What if there’s pee on the seat?  What if someone else’s pubes are on the seat?  Wouldn’t you want to check for that anyway?  Wouldn’t you also want to make sure there’s TP while you’re at it.  Just look.

On Graduation

Maybe this is you.

This is probably what your college is doing now.

 

Maybe this is your current situation.

 

You probably feel a little like this.

 

We hope it feels like this.

15 Reasons Your Waitress Hates You

    1. She knows you’ll give her a shitty tip.
    2. You’ve hit on her.  She’s not interested.
    3. You grabbed her ass.  Really?
    4. You will continue your cell phone conversation while we are taking your order.  Then, you’ll hold up your hand to her, so that she doesn’t interrupt.  
    5. There are kids with you.  Oh, god.  Leave your badly behaved kids at home. 
    6. You will make her say how cute your evil kids are while they are pouring out their food and breaking everything.  Thank you.
    7. You’re blaming her for food you don’t like, or prices you don’t like.  She didn’t cook it.  She didn’t price it.
    8. Your specialty order is out of control.  You want extra onions, no olives, extra cheese, no salsa, replace the beans with fish, replace the salt with ice cream…  Something will be missed in the kitchen.  You will flip out.  
    9. You didn’t tell her about your food allergy until after she brought out your food.  “Oh, does this bread have wheat in it?  I’m allergic.”  If you have an allergy to wheat or gluten, don’t order a sandwich.  If you have an apple allergy, don’t order the apple pie.  Consider these rules.
    10. You complain about the meal, after you eat all of it.  Well, she could have tried to fix that… but okay.
    11. You ask for extra napkins four times.  You’re eating a hamburger.  How many friggin’ napkins do you need?  
    12. You will claim there is something wrong with your diet coke.  She knows that there is nothing wrong.  She will either 1) walk to the back, pause, and bring the same drink back to you, and you will say it tastes better, OR 2) will walk to the same machine which filled your glass last time, dump it out, then refill it, and suddenly, you will like it.  Either way, it’s the same.  You have wasted her time.
    13. You won’t leave when you’re done.  She wants to put new people in your table.  New people who will pay her more.  You are costing her money.
    14. She is stereotyping you based on age and the people you’re with.  Super young = bad tip.  Super old = bad tip.  Bunch of ladies = bad tip.  Bunch of douchey guys = good tip.  First date = good tip.  Super drunk = either super bad or stupid good.  Bitches/Assholes = likely a stiff.
    15. Oh, right.  THE BAD TIP THING.  For the record, 15% is base minimum.  20% for good service.  10% if the waitress attacked you, forgot your food, insulted your hair, hit on your husband, poured whiskey on your dress…

Everyone Poops…

Everyone poops, sometimes even while they’re at work.

Where I work, there seems to be outrage about people pooping.  Because it’s at work, pooping is crime.  What?  Why?  Look, I am not a fan of walking into a recently defiled restroom area, but sometimes people just need to go potty and I feel good about that.  We’re all here for 8 hours.  What if someone suddenly realizes they need to go at 10:00 AM?  Are they really supposed to hold it until 5:00 PM?

One of the women I work with came back from a bathroom break in horror – her eyes were blank, her face had lost its color.  She was in shock.  When we inquired, “What happened?”

She said, “Someone was going #2 in the bathroom.  Oh my god.  I want to barf.”  Most of the other people around us agreed that what she had just been through was truly horrific.  She was consoled by their outrage and genuine sympathy.  How dare a person poop in a public restroom?  How offensive?  How outrageous?  They were all so offended.   No one stopped to think that maybe that pooper was not excited about having to go #2 at work, but sometimes the body does what the body wants.  Have these people never dealt with a bought of unwanted gas?

Meanwhile, I was thinking, “Sure, I don’t want to experience that, but it’s a bathroom… so… it doesn’t seem all that weird.”  Someone pooping in a bathroom is not novel to me. It’s normal.  That’s where we’re supposed to do that.

I just don’t understand why this society is in denial of poop (by the way, that would be a terrifying name for a river…).  We all do it.  It’s going to happen.  Chill out.

It’s just not healthy to hold that in all day.  It’s not like people are maniacally planning to ruin other people’s bathroom experiences, they are just people who got to work, and thought… “Oh crap, I have to poop.”  Then, they poop.  They poop at work.  They are trying to be discreet.  They are trying to be quiet.  They run down to that weird bathroom in the basement.  They don’t want you to know.
No one wakes up in the morning and decides they want to poop at work.  That’s not a thing.  People don’t do that on purpose.  You don’t decide when to get hungry, when to sneeze, when you’ll need to pee, or when you’ll need to poop.

They call it “Going to the bathroom,” for a reason.  That reason is because it’s stuff you do in a bathroom.  That’s where they are.  Get over it.

Politics of Pooping: Dating Edition

Pooping scares people.  That’s why people’s pooping patterns can tell us so much when dating…

The Politics of Date-Poop

  • If a man poops in your apartment, the first time he is there, he is not interested in dating you long-term.
  • If a man poops at your place right before he leaves to go home, he is an asshole without proper manners. Just wait 10 minutes until you get home!
  • If a man discusses poop in front of you within two weeks of knowing you, he considers you a dude/bro, and he does not want to date you.
  • If a new girl in your life discusses poop in front of you (if she’s a new mom discussing baby poop, she’s not crazy, just annoying… although, how did you dating a new mom…), she’s probably a weirdo.
  • If a chick poops in your apartment without major stealth measures within two months of knowing you, she is not interested in sleeping with you.  Girls tend to be pretty weird about poo.
  • If a first date discusses bowel patterns, you need to run. RUN.
  • If someone wants to involve poo or poo-talk, you also need to run. RUN!
  • If a date says, “Sorry I took so long in the bathroom…. There was a line.”  Believe them.  They are trying to maintain their dignity.  Just don’t make eye contact and move on.
  • If your date is a potty-mouth, you may proceed.  Well, if you’re fine with hearing every goddamn thing they say…

Announcing – A Week of Bathroom Talk

That’s right, y’all.  We’re going to devote an entire week to bathroom talk.  Kate and Patty are sick of people acting so weird about the bathroom.  We all use it; it’s okay.  It just seems like our culture denies existence of the camode, or disrespectfully uses it so often.  Why can’t drunk people flush, aim, or wash their hands?  Why do ladies get so mad about the being left up – shouldn’t we look before we sit?  Why aren’t we looking?

In response, we’re talking about the bathroom.  We’re going to rant about poop, pooping, the middle stall, people being annoying about bathroom usage/maintenance/standards.  There will be talk of politics, dating, work, public vs. private, and washing of hands.  We love to wash our hands.  We will also rant for a while about jerks in the potty room.  You get the idea.

Get excited.

Don’t Sniff Me, Bro!

No, really, please don’t sniff me.

Apparently, I smell amazing.  I don’t wear perfume, but I do wash myself and put on deodorant every single morning.  I even go so far as to buy shampoo and conditioner that smells great.  I buy soap that smells like flowers.  I even like how my acne-reducing face lotion smells.  So, I guess…  You’re welcome, world!

While I am thrilled that I smell so entrancingly amazing, I am not so thrilled that I was sniffed today.  That’s right, a man made creepy eye contact with me as he approached me in the copy room, then as I tried to move away from the fax machine, he paused, looked me up and down, then sniffed me.  Loudly.

Needless to say, it was friggin’ creepy.  I walked into the copy room feeling safe, I walked out of the copy room feeling as if I had been violated – like someone had stuck their face in my personal space and taken a big ass sniff right in my face.  

Why did you sniff me?  Why did you look at me like that?  Why would you want to smell a stranger?  Please don’t eat me!

All the social cues I have learned, unlearned, and re-learned later have taught me that smelling people is a little weird.  You don’t sniff your waiter, your coworkers, your accountant, your professor, etc. because it is a violation of personal space, and it makes you seem like a serial killer.  When this strange-looking stranger smelled me, I felt sure that he was planning to either murder me or sex me up; I’m still not sure what he chose.

This also just felt inappropriate for work.  You shouldn’t be making your coworkers uncomfortable; you should just send your faxes and make your copies without dramatics.  It made me feel like we were dogs, meeting each other for the first time on a public trail.  “Sniff!  Sniff!  Your butt smells new!  Yay!  I’m a dog!”  I am not a dog.  He might have been, though. Ugh!

Please, bro, don’t sniff me.

25 Clues You Aren’t In College Anymore

Congratulations, recent graduate. It’s been either six months or a matter of days since you entered the real world.How’s that treating you? If it’s not seeming like finishing school is all its cracked up to be, never fear.

If you’re feeling reminiscent and often wind up confused–am I still in school? I don’t know… I can’t remember…–here are a few clues you aren’t a co-ed anymore.

1. Large groups of people standing outside the front door of your apartment building cause you to be slightly suspicious and/or uncomfortable.

2. Screaming drunk people on Tuesday nights kind of piss you off. You have to get up at 7am and work tomorrow.

3. When you find out a lot of 18-22 year olds live in an apartment building you’re looking at, your response is a unenthused, “Oh…”

4. Girls with skirts short enough that their asses hang out actually are whores. Like, the real kind that have sex for money.

5. You look at a house with a lot of plastic dishware on the lawn and don’t think, “That must’ve been some rager.” Instead, you think, “Why doesn’t this jerkoff pick up his trash?”

6. Backpacks suddenly seem… lame.

7. You are now familiar with hangovers. Too familiar. Honeymoon period over.

8. Bad decisions made while intoxicated seem to have much more gravitas.

9. At some point, what used to be forgivable dramatic fuck ups on the part of others are now painted as rude and unnecessary. And likely unprofessional.

10. Kids complaining about their professors/grad student teaching assistants/exams/papers/[insert necessary evils of undergrad here] seem whiny and stupid to you.

11. Rather than writing that shitty freshman seminar paper, you’re grading it. And hating every minute of reading that verbal vomit you know was written between shots of Goldschlager last Saturday night.

12. Suddenly, not everyone around you is wearing the same two colors on Saturday afternoons.

13. You actually have to pay for a gym membership.

14. Suddenly, eating pizza three nights a week sounds awful.

15. You go to coffee shops to drink coffee, not cruise Facebook while pretending you’re doing homework.

16. Your Facebook tagged photos are no longer you making that face you make when you’re drunk. They’re you with your fiancée on vacation or at the office Christmas party (and you’re not drunk enough).

17. Friday is no longer part of the weekend.

18. You go to Happy Hours regularly, but you’re almost always home by midnight.

19. Sweatpants are no longer acceptable to wear anywhere but the gym.

20. Waking up at 10am is actually sleeping in, not “waking up early.”

21. There is no longer any such thing as “winter break.” There are, in fact, no scheduled breaks at all.

22. You have more than just a 30 pack of Busch light in your fridge.

23. Sometimes, on weekends, you cruise websites for home goods.

24. High school students not only seem to be younger than you, but they’re downright babies. (You started high school almost ten years ago.)

25. It’s possible, nay likely, that a dog/cat/fish has replaced your college roommate.