pretty squeezes

I got used to the fact that most of my jeans’ pockets can’t hold my mobile phone. And that bras have rims unless ugly and that they’re conceived to accommodate a very limited set of back-to-boob sizes ratios. And to how hard it is to find an elegant blazer when my shoulders are narrow but my waist not so much. And to the fact that 90% of what’s in a shop is not meant for my non-Abercrombie body features.

You get used to it.

But this, though…

I wear a 38 european and bought these adult, size medium tights from a big French clothes retailer. That’s my wrist watch… I guess I have to get used to the fact that wearing dresses in winter may require cutting off all blood flow from the waist down.



friendzone reality check

I’ve been seeing a great deal of talking and joking about the friendzone in the social media. Those often tease the friendzoned (the poor wanker) but convey an overall detrimental image of the friendzonee (the heartless bitch).

I think y’all need

<a reality check>

The friendzone is what men call the outraging circumstance when a women cares for them and hence wants them is her life but refuses to do so through sex and/or a romantic involvement.

It’s when a guy pouts because she dared to say no. It’s men’s attempt on shaming the women they are pinning for.

It´s a misogynist pity party.

</a reality check>

Also read this brilliant rant I came across on Tumblr.

the pillow hugging collection

I checked the statistics: in 2011, 758 rated movies were released in the USA. I’d estimate that, of those, 100 are worth watching and, of those, I watch 15. Every 2 or 3 years I fall in love with one of those 15 and add it to the collection of movies I watch on depressive couchpotato-ing moments or hot chocolate weather afternoons. They’re not even the best I consider to have seen so far, but rather the grounds I find myself most likely in “hug the pillow” moments. It’s a set of carefully selected films which warm up my heart and mood in some way, even if I sob like a little girl in the process.

Actually, I was a little girl when this collection started, with Star Wars and Dirty Dancing. Some are fleeting, like Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain, Disney’s version of Robin Hood and a short-lived but intense obsession with the nature thriller Twister (*embarrassing*). Others endure year after year and keep being brought up, such as Lion King and The Sound of Music. The former actually kept me company on my last birthday, which I spent on my sofa healing a nasty cold, and I still laughed to tears with Timon’s hula!Then there’s Sense and Sensibility… I’m not quite sure why… Hugh Grant’s in it for cryin’ out loud… but there’s something about a quietly romantic Alan Rickman and, oooh, Emma Thompson saying the word “love”.

The last addition to the collection was sort of unexpected: just because I love a movie doesn’t mean I’ll ever pull it out “watched it once pile of oblivion”. But I adore the portrait of normalcy of The Kids are Alright and it doesn’t fail to me smile on a heart aching lonely day. Still not sure how Bening missed the Oscar with this one. I declare!

Which movies do you hug your pillow with?

soap and balm

I watch Grey’s Anatomy.

It feels kind of embarrassing putting it out there.

Wait: if you are about to respect me less, you should know that I got the pun in the title right on the first time.

Indeed, most people lost interest after the 5th season, except for single women with cats, lonely gay guys, 16 year old girls and people who like the hospital thing but thought ER was too heavy and Scrubs too silly. As I don’t fit either of these categories, I started to feel a bit self conscious about being in the fandom. Therefore, I analyzed. And I came up with four simple reasons for which I watch Grey’s Anatomy:

  • It’s cathartic: I both laugh and sob in every episode.
  • It switches my brain off from life and puts it in a weekly 40minute fictional reality with those nice, complex, pretty people with such interesting lives who never cease to surprise me. When they do, the screenplay kills them off the show or there’s a breakup and they move to another state. And I undergo this sort of mourn for 5 minutes after the credits and then forget about it.

If Arizona dies in season 9, though, I’ll mourn a bit more. (ABC, via)

  • It’s the perfect PMS companion: sofa, chocolate and Grey’s Anatomy. What more can a pair of desolated ovaries ask for?
  • All of this gets me going all girly, which, since my mom traumatized me with tom boy accusations when I was in my early teens, can never happen enough.

To be honest, not only I watch it as I also re-watch it. I missed the first 3 or 4 seasons so after the last season’s finale cliff hanger, I decided to watch the whole 8 series in a row. Through this series marathon I came to realize that the series creator(s) are geniuses. They developed a formula with several elements which repeats itself in almost every episode:

humor + sexy good looking people + romance + suspense + medicine + strong and transversal topics such as loss, grief, relief, love, solitude

(series stills borrowed from here – thank you!)

This formula is nicely spread along a simple storyline which revolves around a more or less consistent set of really well build characters. All along, there’s a well curated soundtrack playing. The collective sobbing over Denny’s death was partly Snow Patrol’s doing. The end of season 7 wouldn’t have been such a heartbreak if it weren’t for The Quiet Kind’s “In front of you“. Callie and Arizona’s baby breakup was even more angsty because of Andrew Belle. (Yeah, I really dig the soundtrack. I guess it’s a fifth reason.)

So, yeah, a primitive soap opera design with a good tune is holding me hostage of my estrogen. But it’s repetitive and soothing, like nice routines. Hence, I’m shamelessly waiting for the 27th.