Today, In News That Shocks No One

Today, my fave lady-blog decided to do a behind-the-scenes take on science and dating. Well, not really. But, because it's the holidays and everywhere I go seems to be devoid of people (thus enhancing my boredom and lack of desire to do anything productive), I took thishandy little quiz to discover my "attachment style." Apparently, this should help me realize which types of people I should be having relationships with and which ones I shouldn't, and something else about communicating and its importance in relationships. Cutting edge stuff, guys.

I was shocked and dismayed, dear reader, to discover the following: I fall into the "dismissive" quadrant, which somehow involves a combination of low anxiety and high avoidance [NB: I was neither shocked nor dismayed. These are qualities I have known about myself since the age of 10 that are in no immediate danger of changing]. This is defined as follows (if we've ever met, prepare to be wowed):

"[D]ismissing people tend to prefer their own autonomy -- oftentimes at the expense of their close relationships. Although dismissing people have high self-confidence, they sometimes come across as hostile or competitive by others, and this often interferes with their close relationships."

Yes, I did have to answer roughly fifteen questions on a sliding scale of agreement! I only did it because at the end of the quiz, they put your response on a graph, and it kinda reminded me of 9th grade algebra with its x-axis and y-axis.

I'll try to keep this in mind for the new year.

I'm Back, Bitches!

I know, you've missed me terribly in the last two years. I was busy drinking; deal with it. But now I have thoughts to express, and I like some of the people on Facebook too much to just throw my crap on there to bombard people if they haven't chosen to come find me. So anyway, following a short week with minimal work effort, I've found myself seriously drained and in no mood to hit the mean streets of Newport. Post-holiday weeks really are the worst! Hence, Tosh.0 in bed with some wine and a cuddly cat. That came out way more pathetic than it was intended.

Life update: I stopped watching The Hills, moved to Costa Mesa, drank beers with one of the dudes from The League, started twittering (tweeting?), and was told by my doctor that I should wear heels less and responsible loafers with arch support more. Also, I decided to check out Big Brother and officially gave up on The Real World. I think this all means that I'm growing up. And if growing up involves taking large amounts of cash to Las Vegas, I'm totally on board.

Vintage Livi's

I love old timey items. Take, for instance, old Levi's ads. Apparently in the good old days, men were very active. And women, well, enjoyed leisure (as do I). For example, men like rodeos. And ropes. And horses:While women like... picnicking? Clearly, Levi's didn't ask for my opinion. While I enjoy a life of leisure (well, being lazy), picnicking ranks pretty low. Near camping. Why, you ask? Well, you're outdoors. Hiking may be required. Food is not fresh. Chances are, ants and other bugs will be rampant. Blankets are rarely large enough for "lounging" properly. Most importantly, there is no way she can sit down in those pants, or do anything else. I mean, she could hit a few balls in those clothes, or be a farmer in those clothes... but that's about it!Then we have this gem. Forget the hair, the glasses, the colors, the stripes, the turtlenecks, and all that is wrong with the men. What is happening with the chick in the background? What is she loving about these guys? I'm so very confused.This all just makes me want to say: no thank you, Levi's.

A Cinderella Story

I'm currently watching Pretty Woman on TBS (they always know what I want to watch, I swear they're mind readers), and it got me to thinking. When I was a kid, I used to want to be Vivian (Julia Roberts' character, in case you haven't seen it in a while). Like, we used to compete over who was allowed to name their Barbie Vivian, until one of us got a red-headed Barbie and got to keep the bragging rights forever. I know - great story. If you have time, I'll tell it again. Irregardless, Gary Marshall did something magical with this movie. He was able to convince millions of young girls (I know I wasn't alone in this) that even if they actually became a hooker in Hollywood with cracked out friends, a rich and successful man (with a midgety, boorish friend), would come and rescue them, literally on a white horse. Plus, I wanted the clothes. The dress she wears to watch the polo match I'd still buy and wear in a heartbeat. With the hat, natch.
Sorry, I couldn't quickly find a full length picture that had the dress, as I'm lazy and didn't look very hard. But this should trigger a memory of the dress and it's fabulosity. Oh, I also love this movie because it reminds me of how fuckable Richard Gere is, despite the whole gerbil rumor. He was a hottie back in the day! (ok, ok, I'd still do him) Also, I think it might have introduced the idea that if you aren't being kissed (on the mouth) during sex, your partner might be thinking that you are a prostitute. Ok, well probably not literally. Is it universally true that prostitutes refuse to kiss on the mouth? My limited experience in the field (i.e., watching Pretty Woman) says yes, but I'm guessing that's probably not true. And on the other end of the spectrum, I've had sex without kissing, and I know I'm not a prostitute. So there!

Point is, I pretty much cannot come across this movie on tv without watching it all the way through. Just like Clueless, and a few others.

Then what IS snooping?

If you haven't visited Postcards From Yo Momma yet, do it now. I guarantee you will recognize your mom in one of these crazies. Although some moms are clearly crazier than others. For example:

"Well, I went ahead and found your W2 online and filed your taxes. It doesn’t count as snooping, since you weren’t calling me back and I couldn’t wait any longer. You will get a refund. Maybe next year you can do this yourself.
Love, Mamu"

Ok, I'm probably lazier than the next girl, and would happily hand over my W2s to my parents to take care of (although they'd laugh me out of the room if I were to try it). However. I would seriously kill the same parents were they to "find" my W2 (be it online or elsewhere) and do my taxes for me. Irregardless of whether I return a call, I do not expect/anticipate/accept my parents just doing my taxes for me. But then again, at what age is that considered inappropriate? My parents also don't pay for my rent/car/bills/insurance, and I have a few friends (my age) who can't say the same. Does that mean that Mom is filing taxes too? Not that I'm judging (well maybe a little). But, is this a case of parents doing to much for their kids, or going overboard with the ridiculous amounts of snooping, or both? Because while I can picture a certain friend actually expecting her parents to file her taxes, I'm pretty sure she'd flip out if they just "found" her W2. Isn't that like a diary, or credit card bills, or medical charts, which are not meant for the general public?

Then again, this anonymous poster got a refund, and I can't say the same. Maybe if my parents had found my tax info online, they would have found me money too.