Attractive Messes??

I don’t understand men. No this is not a novel revelation - just a perpetual confusion that seems to be compounded daily.

This afternoon I walked over to the corner CVS in search of the usual – milk, cereal, and cat food. Seeing as how I drug my hung over ass out of bed only a few hours before I had not washed my hair, I had not applied makeup, I had not taken the time to dress in anything more becoming than a faded pair of blue jeans and my favorite, bulky gray sorority sweatshirt and an old pair of sneakers. Not my most attractive day.

As I was pursuing the aisles and decided exactly what kind of cereal I wanted (special K vs. Lucky Charms…the truly important decisions in ones life) I carelessly bumped into a fellow shopper.

As I softly apologized and briefly lookup up at the person to whom I was apologizing to.

About 6’2, blonde, wavy hair, ice blue eyes, long black wool coat, a black sweater and lucky jeans. And I thought to myself – of course. Of course when I look like crap I bump into mr. tie me down in the cookie aisle of CVS on a Saturday afternoon!

Oh well. I shrug it off and continue on my mission for skim milk. Then while in the check out aisle, he bumps into ME. I give him a pursed lipped ‘its ok’ smile and stared intently at the contents of my red shopping basket. When I looked up, mr. please do things to me that would make a porn star blush, was outside, facing the inside of the store, holding door open for the elderly couple he came in with (which I would assume are his parents), looking right at me, and smiling. I quickly looked away and then I looked back, our eyes met, and he flashed me the cutest smile ever. I couldn’t help but smile back J

The question is, what the hell was he doing smiling at me when I looked like such a mess? Why do cute guys smile at me when I’m a mess and ignore me when I’m all dolled up?

Frankly, I just don’t get it.

Red Spotlight: #12

The Sunday Times January 07, 2007 Flaming Heck, First Brits Were Redheads A genetic study has revealed a surprise about our ancestors, says Robin McKie There is a small, windowless room on the ground floor of Oxford’s Radcliffe Infirmary that can be reached only by walking through a maze of narrow passageways. The hospital, built in the late 18th century, is old even by the normal standards of ageing National Health Service buildings. Nevertheless, it is in these antiquated surroundings that scientists have set up one of the most ambitious biological programmes attempted in Britain. This is the base of the People of the British Isles project, which is using the power of modern genetics to show how people in different regions interacted over the past few thousand years, how they subjugated one another and how they passed on ideas, inventions and art. In that little cubbyhole on the ground floor there is a bench fitted with high-technology gear used to isolate and copy DNA, a couple of tables with personal computers and several tall fridges. Inside these are rows of vials that hold the bloodline of the British people. Each vial contains DNA from a person who has taken part in the project and each sample has its own special story to tell. Blood was collected from 11 sites for the project’s pilot study: Orkney, northeast England, Cumbria, Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, Oxfordshire, Pembrokeshire, Kent/Sussex, Devon and Cornwall. The researchers then used centrifuges to isolate the white cells, which are stuffed with DNA. Using the DNA — and thanks to advances in molecular biology — the team has begun to build up a pattern of different genetic variants for different parts of the British Isles. From the moment they started to pull data from their machines, their findings produced fascinating information about one of the most conspicuous aspects of the British and Irish population: our redheads. Whether they are called carrot-tops, ginger-heads or “Titian blondes”, these people are blessed — or cursed, according to some of them — with flaming locks that have been a feature of people for millenniums, from Boudicca to Prince Harry. The underlying causes of the condition were recently disentangled by a team led by Professor Jonathan Rees, a dermatologist based at Edinburgh University. It was discovered that hair colour is controlled by a gene called the melanocortin 1 receptor, or MC1R. Genes come in different variants and there are about 70 different versions of MC1R. Rees discovered that a subgroup of about half a dozen is closely involved in determining if a person will be red-haired or not. “If you have one of these variants, your chances of having red hair are increased four or five times above the average,” said Rees. “However, if you have two of these variants — one inherited from your mother and one inherited from your father — your chances of being red-haired increase to 30 to 40 times the average.” (This is exploited by forensic scientists when testing blood left behind at crime scenes. If they find two MC1R variants, police know there is a strong chance the culprit will be a redhead.) Red hair today is generally associated with the Scots and Irish, but there have been no consistent efforts to establish the prevalence of the condition. “It has actually become harder to find the prevalence of red hair today,” said Rees. “More and more women — and some men — now dye their hair and we simply have no idea if a redhead is a real one or if a blonde is a redhead under the dye. As a result the incidence of red hair in Britain is still a bit of a mystery.” Enter the scientists of the People of the British Isles project: thanks to their efforts, this most distinctive characteristic is now opening up its mysteries for the first time. Testing their white cell samples for two of the half-dozen red-hair versions of the MC1R gene, they were able to show their frequency in each area of the British Isles. The results were intriguing. Where one is the maximum value, they got figures of 0.16 and 0.23 for the frequencies of red-hair genes in Cornwall and Devon. The frequency in Oxfordshire was 0.07; in Sussex and Kent 0.13; in northeast England 0.11; in Lincolnshire 0.07; and in Cumbria nil. In Wales the figure was 0.21, and in Orkney a high 0.26. But the highest was in Ireland. Using data from other research studies, the team got a figure for Ireland of 0.31, confirmation of the stereotypical image of the red-haired Irishman. The results are remarkable, as Sir Walter Bodmer, the Oxford geneticist leading the project, acknowledges: “I was amazed at them. I didn’t expect to see something like this.” The research gives us, for the first time, an insight into the startling numbers of native people who have been described as having red hair in ancient times. Famous British redheads include Queen Boudicca, who rebelled against the Romans and sacked London in AD60. She was described by Dio Cassius, the Greek historian, as being “tall and terrifying . . . a great mass of red hair fell over her shoulders”. Over the centuries there have been many other famous red-haired Britons, including Elizabeth I, Oliver Cromwell, Nell Gwyn and Winston Churchill. Nevertheless, today red locks are mainly associated with only certain areas, with Scotland being the principal focus in mainland Britain. Prominent Scots “ginger-heids” include Gordon Strachan, manager of Celtic, and Charles Kennedy, former leader of the Liberal Democrats. But why do we have such numbers in these parts of the British Isles today and not others? The answer, says Bodmer, is that red-hair genes were common among the first Britons and that populations in the archipelago’s fringes still carry their bloodline. “Genes for red hair first appeared in human beings about 40,000 to 50,000 years ago,” agrees Rees. These genes were then carried into the islands by the original settlers, men and women who “would have been relatively tall, with little body fat, athletic, fair-skinned and who would have had red hair”, says David Miles, of English Heritage. Redheads therefore represent the land’s most ancient lineages. So if you want an image of how those first people appeared, don’t think of a hairy savage with a mane of thick black hair. Contemplate instead a picture of a slim, ginger-haired individual: Prince Harry, perhaps, or the actress Nicole Kidman who has Scottish and Irish descent. Why did those early Britons have so many redheads in their midst in the first place? Is there an evolutionary advantage to having red hair in this part of the world? According to Rees, the answer may be yes. The MC1R variants that cause red hair also have an effect on the skin. As a result, redheads do not make enough of the dark pigment melanin to protect them against the sun’s powerful ultraviolet rays. Their skin rarely tans. It just burns or freckles. In Africa, where modern humans first evolved 150,000 years ago, this would have been fatal. In northern Europe, however, melanin-free skin could have provided an advantage because we make vitamin D in our skin when sunlight shines on it. Dark-skinned people were protected against the African sun, but their ability to make vitamin D would have been badly affected in relatively gloomy northern Europe. This could have caused rickets, resulting in weak bones and curved legs — bad news for a hunter-gatherer. Rickets is particularly damaging for women, as it increases pelvic deformations, raising the risk of death in childbirth. So, the theory goes, we evolved white, melanin-free skin that has no dark pigment to block sunlight and cause rickets. Red hair was a side effect. So there it is: being a redhead could mean you possess an evolutionary advantage over non-red-haired people. Or it could simply be a matter of luck. Those MC1R variants may have appeared by chance and survived in northern Europe where they caused no harm. Scientists in the United States and Britain have uncovered another surprising aspect to having ginger locks. Researchers have found that red-headed women are better able to tolerate pain than anyone else, including red-headed males. This is due to a protein produced by MC1R that does one thing in the skin and hair and another in the female brain. At the human genetics unit at the Western general hospital in Edinburgh, Professor Ian Jackson has launched a study of redheads in the hope of developing new painkillers in the wake of this discovery and has found that redheads are better able to tolerate intense heat. As a result, he is preparing to test the hypothesis that redheads should be able to tolerate hot spicy foods better than other people. Thus our ancient, divergent origins seem to have equipped some Britons with the ability to deal with one of the most powerful challenges of modern life: the vindaloo.

Coliseum Worthy Battle?

I’ve never been a HUGE fan of the Super bowl. As you all know my pigskin predilections tend toward Collegiate rather than the professional athletes of the sport but nonetheless with Da Bears making their first championship appearance in several decades and an all Midwestern bowl game – I had to watch. So I settled myself down, engulfed in The Russian’s oversized college sweatshirt, some boxer shorts and my fuzzy zebra print slippers (yes – I looked hot), opened up a Yuengling and prepared for a good match up. 

And with an opening 92 yard return to score a touchdown in thd first 20 seconds of the game – I thought – we’re in for one hellava game…or one hellava blood blath. Either way – should be fun.

Well, I was wrong. 

Well before Prince – or the artist formerly known as – took the stage for a less than memorable purple-clad freak show – I was yawning in my beer. So thank goodness for my entertainment salvation of the evening – ROME. 

ROME – that ancient republic, oratorical Mecca, hedonistic breeding ground, and now top-rated HBO series – you saved me from two more quarters of over-hyped, disinterested Sunday evening mediocrity. 

But, Scarlett, how could an HBO series could possibly surpass the Super bowl on the A/V meter 'o entertainment? You may ask? 

Please indulge me as I enumerate the reasons why HBO's ROME surpassed Superbowl XLI

SUPERBOWL XLI	HBO'S ROME
FCC squashed all nudity and sexually inappropriate humor or content making the entertainment surrounding the athletic displays child friendly and adult sedating	Nudity that would make even Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction look a mere trifle at a Sunday school gathering
Taking dozens of uniformed, padded down men, putting them in an arena, and setting them loose over a football	Taking dozens of scantily clad men, putting them in an arena, and …well anything goes!
Bears vs. Colts	Redheaded Power Struggle
Peyton Manning avoiding being sacked	Atia of the Julii avoiding being poisoned
Half-time show involves Prince singing his rendition Proud Mary	Half-time show involves sniveling spy getting beaten to a bloody pulp because "if the confession isn't obtained through torture, it's not legal"
Five turnovers due to slippery hands and in climate weather	4 turnovers as Octavian defeats Mark Antony and begins his march into ROME; Atia thwarts Servilia's attempt at murder; Servilia is saved by the corrupt Jewish servant who seeks redemption; Verenus is found and saves his children

This striking comparison begs the question – have we advanced as a society and as a species or deteriorated over time? Clearly we have evolved if we are entertained by merely the tossing and running of a ball vs. mutilation by wild animals, and literal mortal combat for our amusement. We now reserve those activities as pastimes of the statesmen rather than of the citizens – a spectacle best viewed in private and away from the huddled masses.
Additionally – who’s to say we have actually evolved when we no longer require actual human sacrifices to get our daily fill of violence? When we are now capable of satiating our hunger for those deeds to which gladiators owe their fame through special effects, high definition TV and the imagination of screenwriters, directors and Steven Spielberg.


Frankly, I would be curious to explore just why this is – that we seek to see such horrors in order to be entertained – ROME, 24, The Sopranos. Is it because these scenes depict actions and violence we ourselves are incapable or unwilling to inflict on others? Or perhaps it makes us feel fortunate about our every day lives that no matter how bad they get….we’re not being fed to the lions…not literally anyway.

YOS Status Report (1 of 12)

And so, dear friends. We are 1/12^th of the way through 2007, I thought I’d provide you with a YOS status report. If you will recall, the goals of Year Of Scarlett were to take better care of myself (go to the gym, be healtier, go to the dr.); be productive; take better care of friendships, get rid of negative drama-covered people. 

How are we doing so far? Let’s recap, shall we? 

Days in the Gym: 13

Trips to the Vending Machine: 8 (BOO - I know)

Pounds Lost: 5 (Lost 8, Gained 3)

Hangovers: 2

Milestones: Broke up with Canadian (twice now – once over NYE, once last Tuesday night). I believe this is a milestone because #1. I have proven that I can stand up for myself and say 'I will not be treated this way' 'I'm better than this' and 'this is NOT what I want'. While I have always been a strong woman - and am the first to get feisty and kick some ass defending my friends, I have always been reluctant to stand up for myself where relationships are concerned. A product of being a middle child? Having braces and glasses as a kid? Not getting a pony at the age of 7? Who knows. Secondly this is indeed a first for me as I recognized that something was bad for me despite wanting it at the same time - and saying 'no'. 

Fell in love lust with The Russian and am trying my hand at a HEALTHY relationship. This is definitely a first. And a journey into new territory. I hope I have throurally prepared him and having known me for the better part of a decade he has a fair idea of what he's in for (quick temper, passionate, flirty, uber social, a tad crazy). If nothing else, it should be a wild ride. 

COMING UP - February is off to a FANTASTIC start! My workouts and diet are all in line (can i just say ...my thighs and @ss.....OOOWWW! i'm in pain. whimper. fuss fuss.) But I WILL be skinny, toned dammit.

Singles awareness day is coming up - and while the Russian will arrive in town shortly after these cherubic festivities - I will be spending the dreaded Hallmark Holiday alone. 

Anyone feel like cracking open a bottle of red with me??

To Celebrate the Feast of Brigid

I have always loved poetry. It was my literary upbringing, my bedtime stories (The Wreck of the Hesperus, The Highwayman, Winkin Blinkin & Nod), My fantasy world (The Lady of Shalott), My historical education (Paul Revere's Ride, In Flanders Fields, O! Captain! My Captain!, The High Tide at Gettysburg), and laid roots from which moral and ethical foundation were laid (IF, The Goops)

And so it was with great surprise and delight that I stumbled upon Candy Sandwich's post today, detaling the following:

Second Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Poetry Reading

WHAT: A Bloggers (Silent) Poetry Reading

WHEN: Anytime February 2, 2007

WHERE: Your blog

WHY: To celebrate the Feast of Brigid, aka Groundhog Day

HOW: Select a poem you like - by a favorite poet or one of your own - to post February 2nd.

RSVP: If you plan to publish, feel free to leave a comment and link on this post. So, link to whoever you hear about this from and a mighty web of poetry will be spun.

Feel free to pass this invitation on to any and all bloggers.

Enjoy!

22

By Emily Dickenson

I gave myself to him,
And took himself for pay.
The solemn contract of a life
Was ratified this way

The value might disappoint,
Myself a poorer prove
Than this my purchaser suspect,
The daily own of Love

Depreciates the sight;
But, 'til the merchant buy,
Still fabled, in the isles of spice
The subtle cargoes lie.

At least, 'tis mutual risk,—
Some found it mutual gain;
Sweet debt of Life,—each night to owe,
Insolvent, every noon.

The Hottest Love, Has the Coldest End -- Socrates

I returned from the SouthWest rejuvenated if a bit sore…from climbing a mountain (lest you have your head in the gutter). And I will elaborate more on that spur of the moment jaunt later on – (thank you, William Shattner and priceline.com).

Reality however, waited for me at the arrival gate in the form an innocent beeping noise coming from the oh so cute CCP (cherry chocolate phone). “New Voicemail” it dinged. Not thinking anything of it I pressed the voicemail button, typed in my passcode, held the phone to my ear and out came the words ‘hi, baby’ in a northern accent. It was the Canadian. Ya know, it’s quite the trick to say goodbye to your boyfriend, fly 4 and 1/2 hours across the country only to have your OTHER boyfriend ready to greet you on the other side. 

I saw him for the first time in 9 months last night. It was very surreal. I tried to keep an open mind. An objective mind away from my thoughts and feelings for the Russian and focus solely on the problems and issues between the Canadian and myself. There I was, at a romantic corner table for two in a dimly lit Italian restaurant, sitting across from a man I thought I could spend the rest of my life with and strangely enough, I didn’t want to be there. In fact, the longer I sat there, the angrier I became. For reasons too numerous to detail in a single post, dear reader, though I suppose I could break them out into a string of posts with such titles as “I’m a grown woman and can make my OWN f*cking decisions”, “It’s been 3 years and I haven’t met your friends” and “Life in Relationship Purgatory.” 

Did he open up? Yes. Did we have a frank and honest discussion? Yes. Was anything resolved? Well….?? Mr. C thought that because he did open up to me about things he was thinking and feeling that got him out of the dog house. What he does NOT understand is that I’m tired of waiting at the end of this emotional tunnel for him to navigate his way out without a compass. 

Sharing feelings, while definitely a step in the right direction doesn’t begin to cover the amount of emotional distance between us but rest assured, I shared some feelings of my own:

Mr. C: Look at me! I’m being emotional and talking about my feelings

Scarlett: Take a look at THIS emotion – it’s called pissed off!

Mr. C: Don’t you care that I’m opening up? Doesn’t this fix everything between us?

Scarlett: Mr. C, unless your opening up involves a REAL relationship in which we function away from my apartment twice a year and into the real world where we don’t have MY friends or YOUR friends…we have OUR friends, where we spend holidays together, where we make an effort to see each other and be involved in each other’s lives…then what we have here is a failure to give a sh*t about emotional expression. 

Mr. C did not handle this well. I was belittling his emotions. Honestly, this was not my intent! I didn’t mean to be so cold. So angry. There was a time, not so very long ago, that this gesture – minute as it may be, would have sustained me through another 6 months. But not this time. And I was sorry. But the mere fact that I said ‘your friends are in town – am I going to meet them?’ and he said ‘no’. ….

I gave him an out. A way to fix it. A way to keep me. Another chance. And he didn’t take it. I think that’s what upsets me the most. That I have been running after a man who doesn’t care enough to salvage this relationship, suck it up, and do what is necessary to keep me. I’m not worth that to him. And that’s what kills me. 

Ya know what else kills me? I feel guilty. I FEEL GUILTY about leaving him. I feel guilty about wanting to be happy. I've been there for him - put up with his shit and now I feel guilty about wanting someone who wants to build a life with me. I know logically this makes no sense. But I feel like such a shitty person because I sit across the table from him and while I care, I'm not in love with him. 

So I said, can we take our relationship down a notch since you're not ready to give me what I want. And he made me feel like I was tearing his heart out. And so he got up from the table. I asked him to sit back down and talk. He took his coat. I turned.

Mr. C: I'm your boyfriend. You can't treat me like this.

Scarlett: You walk out that door and you're not my boyfriend anymore.

Mr. C turned and walked away. Leaving me stunned. Leaving me angry. Leaving me with the bill.

Frankly, 

A Narrow Escape

I’ve made no secret about the clusterf*ck of emotions I’ve been experiencing lately. They have made me feel like a PMSing lab rat on a mixture of crystal meth and vicodine running through a mad scientists’ maze-o-romance – bouncing from one emotion to another, having no clue where I’m going, experiencing euphoric highs and lows, running into walls and dead ends trying to solve the biggest relationship puzzle of all: what do I want?

The Canadian is coming into town this weekend. He’ll be here for the week.

Obviously this posed more than one moral, emotional and ethical dillemas: #1. I’ve been pissed off at all things north of the border since this year began, I haven’t seen him in 9 months, and …well…there’s a redheaded temper involved.

#2. The obvious problem of the Russian.

#3. I still care about the Canadian – 3 years is the longest I’ve been with anyone! (even if it HAS been off and on).

And so confused and bewildered, I called the smartest gals I know to chat about the situation.

After explaining the scenario – one vote was unanimous – ‘he can’t stay with you.’ ‘Well how do I get around THAT!?’ ‘Just be honest’ – wha? Huh? Honest? But I’m so worried about hurting him! A concern to which Travel Girl replied: “don’t worry about his feelings. He didn’t worry about yours.” – fair point.

Sigh. They were right. I couldn’t have him stay with me. I don’t know how I feel about him right now and I don’t think a co-habitational scenario would be an optimal setting to explore whatever feelings those turn out to be. And so I took a deep breath and told him – I don’t want you staying with me next week. (Please be advised, he lived here for many years and his best friends live here (many of which I’ve never MET - another sore subject - so I’m not exactly leaving him out in the cold).

He sounded very disappointed but can I tell you, it lifted SUCH a weight off my head. I’ve never said ‘no’ to this man. I’ve always forgiven him, shoved everything under the rug while things were going well…never said ‘I’m sorry but you can’t have everything you want when you want it’. So that was a big deal.

The bigger problem is though is that I have no idea what’s going to happen when I see him. Yes, I’m with the Russian. I love the Russian (ya, I said it, shut up). But there’s a part of me that isn’t quite ready to let the Canadian go. Because he’s been my safety net? Because I’ve been chasing him for SOOOO long? Because I had a plan for my life – and now it’s taken an unexpected turn and I’m not quite ready to veer off that familiar road? What if things go wrong with the Russian and I suddenly find myself stranded along the roadside!?

And then I realized, well, more like nodded along when TravelGirl reminded me: 'being single is better than settling.' And she’s right. So right.

Just when I thought running this vehicle into a lamp post would be less painful than dissecting the components of the complex variables in these relationships, Hey Pretty advised “I think the more important issue is that you don’t define your needs in terms of “option A: The Canadian” or Option B: the Russian. Even if you weren’t happy with the Russian, the situation with the Canadian would still not be good.” And how right she is.

Oh how I love you, my girlfriends.

Being with the Russian doesn’t change the fact that I cried over the phone to Canada for 45 minutes on New Year’s Eve to no avail. Or that the relationship is always defined by the Canadian. Or that it feels as though I’ve been dragging him kicking and screaming through this relationship since 2003.

So, needless to say, that when the Canadian and I DO meet up this next week – we’ll have a lot to say to each other.

In the meantime, I am doing what any gal in a dysfunctional relationship with a passive aggressive law student that is flying into Regan airport at 6 p.m. that she hasn’t seen in 9 months and has fallen for someone else would do….I’m leaving the scene of the crime at 5:55 p.m. and flying out to see the man I hope to have a HEALTHY relationship with for the weekend.

Perhaps I am delaying the inevitable. Perhaps that's the point.

Either way, my bags are packed with silky, lacy treats from Vicki’s and I go to the airport in just a few short hours.
I’m looking forward to the weekend escape because that’s just what it will be. I just hope there's a cure for cancer at the end of this maze to make it all worth while!






Frankly,

The Forest Of Self-Righteousness

Now you’ve gone and done it. You’ve pissed off a redhead and more importantly, you've hurt her friends. And so the claws begin to come out...THIS should be fun (although there are more fun treats to come, my dear, just you wait. The fun thing about karma is that ...it's SUCH a bitch :) )

Ya know, after wading through the murkey waters of high school in a highly controlled, uniformed, religious environment (hell we even dressed alike!) I learned a great deal about people. I learned about the importance of differentiating yourself to maintain one’s sanity - be it by sewing star shaped buttons on your kilt, wearing lots of bracelets or rings, etc. – little ways of expressing your individuality lest you loose your identity and swim upstream with the rest of the salmon.


I learned the importance of questioning. Of asking “why” rather that regurgitating information. Why does this biblical passage mean this? Group: Ummm…because the Pope SAID so? Scarlett: Ummm…a GOOD reason please?

So group think, while slightly tragic doesn’t really shock or disorrient me.

Not that judgment doesn’t have its time and place. Hell – if it weren’t for judgment Hey Pretty and I would have nothing better to do at social functions! What DOES piss me off is moral superiority. The belief that you, my dear in your string of fake pearls, Ann Taylor twin set and girl scout merit badges framed on your wall are not only PERFECT but you feel the benevolent urge to bestow your unsolicited and, of course, infallible advice to all those you happen to come in contact with. Lucky us.



This is obviously annoying when applied to strangers but the thought is damn near ridiculous when applied to friendships.
Friendships – you remember those don’t you? Those relationships that are supposed to be based on mutual respect and understanding? Those special people in your life that you choose to share experiences with? Life milestones with? Secrets, laughter and retail therapy with no strings or, you guessed it, judgment attached?

So what do you do when the people who are supposed to support you don’t approve of your decisions? Who profess to be your friends but the minute you step away from the ‘group think’ mentality turn on you and make it their personal mission to make your life a living hell?

Should you find yourself in such an unfortunate situation, dear reader, the way I see it, you have one of three options:

Option #1. Attempt to apologize. Smooth things over. Say you’re sorry. You wouldn’t want to ruffle too many feathers. After all – you’re “friends” are only thinking about what’s best for you, right?

* Option #2:Smile. Put up with their obviously misinformed and self-diluted advice. Nod when they say that you’re completely and totally wrong. Agree when they say that you suck. Anything is better than loosing your “friends” after all.

Option #3: Give the only possible response to such terrible behavior. F*CK YOU! A real friend wouldn’t bat an eye while they listen, offer the best advice possible, continue to support you in whatever you do and be there to pick up the pieces without saying ‘I told you so’ should it turn out that you were right.

Remember...Judgy-Wudgy was a bear…

And to the wildlife in the jungle of self-righteousness, I say …. We know we can’t all be as perfect and as morally uncompromising as you are – we must strive to find our own way, our own happiness. And you must strive to find other lemmings who WILL live the lives YOU want them to lead and eventually follow you off a cliff.


And just remember, darling...inner beauty WON'T get you laid!

Frankly,

*Bonus points if you know which DC blogger's salute this is!

31 and Starving!

This study is disturbing for a number of reasons. #1. According to this, I have 5 years of my life yet to live before I can actually start eating! #2. I don't know about ya'll....but I can think of a LOT better ways of spending 31 years of one's life. And lastly, #3. Why can't we all just try to eat healthier (she said as she throws yesterdays Taco Bell receipt in the trash) with the overall goal of being HEALTHY rather than skinny??

Anyway, apparently it's an interesting Newsweek, people. Read on.

Average Woman Spends 31 Years on a Diet, Researchers Say  

For many women struggling to keep slim, dieting can seem to last a lifetime.

Or to be more precise, 31 years.

For researchers have found that is how long the average woman spends on a diet over the course of her life.

According to a new report, British women spend an average of six months a year counting the calories and more than a fifth are on a permanent diet throughout their lifetime in a seemingly never-ending quest for the perfect figure.

But they aren't the only ones waging a constant fight against the flab.

The average adult male spends 28 years slimming, the poll has revealed.

It found that over a tenth of the UK population is currently dieting in a bid to shed the pounds after feasting on festive treats over the Christmas period.

But despite best intentions, three quarters of those who began their New Year with the firm resolution to lose weight will give up by the end of the week.

The average diet lasts 5.5 weeks, with the post-Christmas fast being even shorter at just three weeks.

Half of slimmers throw in the towel due to lack of willpower, while a quarter of respondents said that they give up because their strict diet regime leaves them moody or depressed.

The most determined of dieters are aged between 45 and 64, with almost a quarter spending up to a year slimming.

In comparison, those aged between 18 and 24 are more likely to be yo-yo dieters, with a fifth giving up within a month.

The survey of 1,446 of men and women revealed that nearly two thirds of the UK population are unhappy with their body and feel that being thinner would make them happier.

For women, looks are more important, with over half reporting that they diet to wear fashionable clothes and a third of those surveyed said they watched their weight in a bid to feel more attractive.

But in comparison, men are more focused on their long-term well-being, with over a third saying they wanted to lose weight to be more healthy.

Almost a quarter of the UK population has been on a weight loss diet at one time, with half shedding up to a stone.

But despite the recent catwalk trend for size zero models, most adult British women don't aspire to be super skinny.

Most crave a hour-glass shape, with Marilyn Monroe's curves and the voluptuous figure of singer Charlotte Church being among the most desired body shapes.

British men, meanwhile, are more interested in a sporting physique, with 40 per cent citing footballer David Beckham's body as their ideal, just ahead of film star Brad Pitt.

The report has been welcomed by experts.

Leading dietician Sian Porter said: "Thirty one years is a lot of time dieting when you tot it up, but it shows that people are realising that they must live a more healthy lifestyle.

"It is encouraging that women are being realistic.

"They are not aspiring to be a size zero, but they are looking up to someone more curvy like Kelly Brook or Nigella Lawson.

"But what we need to do is not dieting, but more healthy eating."

Whilst the majority of those surveyed diet sensibly by eating smaller portions, almost a quarter of respondents said they would consider taking diet pills or only eating salad, and almost one in ten have considered a liquid diet or surgery.

For those watching their waistline, chocolate is the most craved sin, followed by cheese, according to the Ipsos Mori report commissioned by Laughing Cow Extra Light Diet.

Believe it or Not....

I just HAD to share this! No comments just ....EEEWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!! I may never go swimming again!


Japanese Marine Park Captures Rare Shark on Film
Tue Jan 23, 2007 11:22 PM ET

TOKYO (Reuters) - A species of shark rarely seen alive because its natural habitat is 600 meters (2,000 ft) or more under the sea was captured on film by staff at a Japanese marine park this week.
The Awashima Marine Park in Shizuoka, south of Tokyo, was alerted by a fisherman at a nearby port on Sunday that he had spotted an odd-looking eel-like creature with a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth.

Marine park staff caught the 1.6 meter (5 ft) long creature, which they identified as a female frilled shark, sometimes referred to as a "living fossil" because it is a primitive species that has changed little since prehistoric times.

The shark appeared to be in poor condition when park staff moved it to a seawater pool where they filmed it swimming and opening its jaws.

"We believe moving pictures of a live specimen are extremely rare," said an official at the park. "They live between 600 and 1,000 meters under the water, which is deeper than humans can go."

"We think it may have come close to the surface because it was sick, or else it was weakened because it was in shallow waters," the official said.

The shark died a few hours after being caught.

Frilled sharks, which feed on other sharks and sea creatures, are sometimes caught in the nets of trawlers but are rarely seen alive.

And the Nominees Are ....

As I’m sure you’ve heard, the Oscar nominations are here. Yes. Award ceremony season is upon us, my friends. Time to dust off your tiaras, roll out the red carpets and put the finishing touches on those acceptance speeches!

While not pretending to be as discerning a connoisseur of cinema as some of my blogging cohorts, here are my personal pics (and comments) regarding this year’s 79^th annual Oscar nominations as announced today, January 23 in Beverly Hills, CA by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences:

*****************

Best Picture: Babel This movie will not be part of the Scarlett movie library. I would never watch this movie again. However, it was utterly original, artistic and powerful.

Actor: Leonardo DiCaprio, Blood Diamond; (don’t make me laugh! Did you HEAR butchering of the South African accent!?) My vote goes to Forest Whitaker, The Last King of Scotland.

Actress: Penelope Cruz, Volver: I actually heard from my brother that in her native language, Ms. Cruz is surprisingly talented. However, my vote goes to Helen Mirren, The Queen

Supporting Actor: Mark Wahlberg!? Are you kidding me!? What 12 year old did they put on the academy that nominated “Marky” Mark Whalberg!? I’m going to go with Eddie Murphy on this one for Dreamgirls

Supporting Actress: Adriana Barraza, Babel; No contest. Hands down. Did you know that while shooting the scene in the desert that kept cutting to her feet that she was the one holding the camera? She wouldn’t come out of the sun and barely drank any water during the shooting of this scene because she wanted it to be real. Utterly amazing.

Directing: I’m tempted to nominate Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu for Babel once again. However, the direction and realism of United 93 and its complete uniqueness as a film not to mention the subject matter…I’m going with Paul Greengrass

Foreign Language Film: After the Wedding (Denmark). This is a very intense and heart breaking film that explores human nature and it give you a lot to cry and think about, but the ending is hopeful and beautiful and you leave the movie feeling good and knowing you’ve just seen something brilliant.

Art Direction: Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest – DUH

Original Score: The Queen, as a musician and orchestration student, let me just say that Alexandre Desplat is a genius.

Original Song: Our Town from Cars. Sorry, Beyonce…gotta give it up for James Taylor.

Costume: Marie Antoinette – the only really good part of this movie

Documentary Feature*: Jesus Camp – disturbing, scary movie about a boot camp for the young soldiers of Christ. Be afraid, be very afraid.

The rest, I don’t have opinion on but that's ok since they’re awarded during cocktail hour anyway. The full list of nominees can be found at: http://online.wsj.com/article/0,,SB116916343993480854,00.html?mod=djemMM

*OH – can I also throw in that I threw up a little to hear that An Inconvenient Truth was even NOMINATED, even showed up on the RADAR? I think I threw up a little when I saw that listing. Apparently being a self-diluted former VP entitles you to an Oscar. Who knew

'Shot' Through the Heart

So sorry for the silence this week! Half of my problem has been knowing where to start as there are just so many things going on! How do I choose what to write about?
Current topics on To-Write List:

1. Judgemental 'Friends' - Yes, twin, its coming!
2. My first trip to the porn store
3. How to survive in a healthy relationship when you don’t speak the language
4. Adventures in Breakups
5. How not to poke a rabid dog (because really, you don't know where it's been)
6. My Love affiar with...the Cherry Chocolate Phone

Well, let me start here dear reader with some quick notes:

After a tearful goodbye, the Russian returned to New Mexico yesterday afternoon. Yes, I said tearful and it wasn't just me. I must admit, there's something mighty surreal about a 30 year old, hockey playin', 6'7, former frat boy wiping a tear from the corner of his eye because he's going to miss you.

But fear not, he did not leave before being introduced subjected to the best of the best of the DC blogging scene. The impromptu happy hour took place on Friday where redheaded sluts and good times not to mention dirty girl scouts, were had by all. In attendance were Dupont and her man, Jersey, the fabulously sarcastic Hey Pretty, the Corona drinkin' Tex and Travel Girl with her entourage in tow along with many many others who maintain their fabulousness despite their non-blogger status (St. Pauly Girl & her boyfriend, XO, Philly and a colleague of his).

We breathed in and yes, we did inhale, the drama-free atmosphere as old friends caught up, new acquaintances were made and faces were put to posts. It was a lovely evening and one we have all agreed that we must encore in the near future. The Russian came through with flying colors and the enthusiastic approval of everyone INCLUDING the very discerning and selective HP!

I was described Friday as being not-myself, being instead becoming “uber-Scarlett”, “Scarlett-on-steroids”, “Scarlett to the n^th Degree” and “Sparkle Scarlett”. This led me to think, hmmm… if I'm all of a sudden 'so happy' and everyone is commenting on it, was I lacking in the cheerfulness department before?

I mean, yes, I'm a cynical smart ass. But a cheerful cynical smart ass! Have I become, dare I say, surly? Churlish,even? (How’s that for the 50 cent word of the day?) But my fears were alleviated after talking to Dupont who, in her little Yoda-like way said: "You weren't un-happy. You seemed very 'content' with your life. Very content being single and very comfortable with yourself. NOW, you seem happy"

Sigh. Happy.

Yes, I suppose I am. But its happiness tempered with, I must admit, a certain amount of uneasiness. This is not a conventional courtship by any means nor does the term ‘whirlwind romance’ even attempt do it justice. I suppose these murky relationship waters have taken on a pallor similar to that of the Potomac in no small part due to his impending, more than messy divorce or my own ongoing romantic saga with a tall man north of the border who said to me last night ‘I don’t know whether to cry, drink or throw myself off my balcony” at the mere suggestion that we TAKE A BREAK. I’m afraid the Canadian extraction will turn out to be a more painful and complicated endeavor than originally imagined.

But more thoughts on that later. Frankly, I’m in life drama overload and I’m sick of it already.