What kind of world do we live in when young men are so proud of violating unconscious girls that they pass proof around to their friends? It’s the same kind of world in which being labeled a slut comes with such torturous social repercussions that suicide is preferable to enduring them. As a woman named Sara Erdmann so aptly tweeted to me, “I will never understand why it is more shameful to be raped than to be a rapist.”
And yet it is: so much so that young men seem to think there’s nothing wrong with—and maybe something hilarious about—sharing pictures of themselves raping young women. And why not? Their friends will defend them, as they did in Steubenville, tweeting that the young woman was “asking for it” and that the boys were being unfairly targeted.
Women and girls are the ones expected to carry the shame of the sexual crimes perpetrated against them. And that shame is a tremendous load to bear, because once you’re labeled a slut, empathy and compassion go out the window. The word is more than a slur—it’s a designation."
You’re all dying to know… no you’re not. But in case you’re in the market for a new costmetic type thing, here are my favorites:
I only just learned about Bobbi Brown’s Beach fragrance. I’m a little mad nobody told me that I could have been smelling like sunscreen year round before. It is so good. I keep burying my head into my own chest to get a big deep whiff.
My other favorite scent of late is Jo Malone’s English Pear & Freesia. My mom gave me a bottle for Christmas and it’s already getting a little low. People compliment me every time I wear it. Super clean and fresh.
When I don’t feel like going full primer + foundation or tinted moisturizer (aka, every work day), I use Too Faced’s Beauty Balm. It is great. A little light smooth out and base for the rest of your makeup.
This mascara is the truth. The white stuff builds little tubes around your eyelashes to make them longer and thicker. The color end goes over and makes you look super glam. It stays on forever and comes off simply by rubbing warm water on your eyes — no makeup remover needed.
Another amazing product from L’Oreal: their new line of lip gloss/stains. The brush is a little weird, but, the gloss dries almost immediately and stays on and glossy looking for hours. Through a cup of coffee and a bagel. You won’t have to think about reapplying till after lunch. It doesn’t last quite as long as the high test/high dollar stuff from Hourglass, but almost!
The Korres Japanese Rose scented body wash and body butter make me so happy. They just smell so damn good.
If you have any little (or hey, not so little) spots of exema like I do, get the new Neosporin lotion. The ingredient list says it’s basically just a colloidal oatmeal cream, but this stuff does more to make the little tiny flakes on my knuckles go away than anything else I’ve ever tried.
Curly ladies: this Organix curl defining cream works better than the Bumble & Bumble curl creme (at least for me) and costs way less and is available at your local CVS or Giant or whatever.
And finally: if you need a little lift in your ‘do, or you want your bangs to not sit right by your face or whatever, Tresemme’s root boost spray is amazing. And also drug store priced. I’ve had trouble finding it in the past, but, worth the hunt.
Thank you so much to everyone for coming. To all those who have spoken, to all those who have travelled a long way to be here, to everyone that came to spend some time remembering my dad. It means so much to me and I know that this is a party he would have absolutely loved to attend.
My dad was a really special person. “Larger than life” is what about 90% of the cards and notes and phone calls have said. And they’re not wrong. He was a big, tall guy, with a broad shoulders and a big booming voice. But he didn’t start life out that way — he was born premature, and was so small he fit into the palm of my grampa’s hand. I’ve always wondered if that fight at the start was the source of his work ethic, his playful personality, his sweetness and his knack for competition. Above everything else, though, he was generous. He was so giving and so dedicated to his relationships. He lived in this area his entire life — and made new friendships just about every day of those 62 years. His colleagues, his friends and his family were how he defined himself — and it’s clear looking around this room that it was a life well lived.
I knew him in a way nobody else did, though. I knew him as my dad. And he was a great one. He took care of me in the ways dads do — bringing home gatorade when I was sick and all that. But more than anything else, we played. When he wasn’t playing bridge with the boys in Richmond, or pool with Ted in the basement, or golf with everybody out at Chantilly, my dad and I were playing. Before bed every night, we’d sit down and play cards. Not the games most kids play — not War or Uno. We played jin, rummy, black jack and five card draw. He gamely stepped on the gas when I squealed, “slick ‘em, daddy!” — my own made up game to get my dad to pass cars and drive faster than everybody else on the highway. He not only introduced me and all the kids in the neighborhood to flashlight tag, he came out and played it with is. And managed to be the best one at hiding even though he was three times our size. He played HORSE with me for hours in our driveway. At Stone Harbor every summer, Kevin and Kyle and I would look on as the grown ups played massive games of Trivial Pursuit — and my dad’s team always won. Even bedtime stories fit that mold. They were about the dramatic highs and lows of his outstanding little league career. And how the brave, courageous Washington Redskins fought on through their decades long battle with the hated, evil Dallas Cowboys.
He raised me to be his sports fan companion, taking me to countless games at RFK and Fed Ex, going to the final four, watching more games of every kind than I can count in front of the tv. And when we weren’t together during great sport moments — I knew that when I answered my phone the first thing I was gonna hear was, “How BOUT them Redskins!” I know it might sound trivial to some people, but that common ground and common playfulness gave us something to talk about even when we were mad at each other. It kept us connected.
So did his generosity. How many dads do you know that used their casino connections to get a dozen kids in their 20s nice rooms in Las Vegas? I haven’t counted, but I’m guessing a majority of my friends that are here today have been to Stone Harbor, or taken out to dinner by my dad, or over to his house to pick crabs or to watch a Skins game.
He never stopped taking care of me, even as I grew up and got a job and lived on my own. When I told him I was moving into DC five years ago, he wasn’t too pleased about the neighborhood I had picked. When last he checked, it had more crack heads than quaint coffee shops. So he spent an entire afternoon parked on the street I’d soon call home, just to check it out make sure it seemed safe. Whenever we’d meet for dinner in the city, he wouldn’t let me simply hail a cab and head home. He’d go outside, get the cab for me, give the driver a stern talking to about how important the cargo was, discuss the route he planned on taking, hand me about three times as much cash as I’d need to reach my destination, and say goodbye with a hug and an “I love you.”
I miss my dad terribly. I miss looking at my phone and seeing four missed calls and knowing they were all just to say hey. I miss picking up and him saying, “Amanda, your dad here. How are you?” and when I’d say, “I’m good,” he’d say (over the phone, mind you) — “Well, ya look good!” — because he knew that made me laugh. I miss how excited he got when he found a good deal. I miss his knowledge of DC-area roadways that was always superior to any navigation system. I miss the way he always knew exactly what he wanted — which anybody who’s ever seen him do so much as order a sandwich can attest to.
I miss my dad terribly, but I know how very lucky I was to have him for the time I did. There wasn’t a moment that went by that I doubted his love for me, or his pride in me. He taught me so much, and gave me so much. When he was in the hospital after getting diagnosed, my friend Joey called to check in on him. He told Joey, “it’s up to you guys to take care of Amanda now.” Even as he faced an unthinkable diagnosis, his thoughts and his hopes weren’t about himself. All he wanted was for the people he loved to be taken care of. I can honestly say that his wishes are being met. My friends, his friends, my colleagues and my family have gone above and beyond for me in these past months. So on behalf of the both of us, thank you.
Nobody will ever replace my dad, and I’ll miss him terribly every day for the rest of my life. But I have a lifetime of happy memories and invaluable lessons to lean on forever. And when that doesn’t work, there’s always a game to play.
Clara Oswald theory: Bad Wolf/Rose Tyler and Clara are somehow related
- Bad Wolf was able to see all of time and space and mold it. (ep: Journey’s End)
- Constant presence of roses around all three “versions” of Clara.
- ‘The most important leaf in human history’ was from a Norway Maple. (ep: The Rings of Akhaten). Darlig Ulv Stranden (a.k.a. Bad Wolf Bay) is located in Norway (ep: Doomsday / Journey’s End)
- On 5 March 2005, Rose Tyler first met the Doctor. (ep: Rose) 5 March 2005 is also the date when Clara’s mother died. (ep: The Rings of Akhaten).
- Clara is always wearing red clothes (or something red, like her bag in The Rings of Akhaten). Red is the color of most common roses.
- The TARDIS doesn’t seem to like Clara (ep: The Rings of Akhaten). This may be due to the fact that she is an anomaly of the Universe. The same thing happened with Jack Harkness, since Bad Wolf gave him immortality. The TARDIS tried to shake Jack off (ep: Utopia).
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I love hard core nerds who analyze things I watch and passively enjoy so I can be all WHOOOOAOOOOOOAAAAAAAA