I Don’t Care About Beyonce’s Hair

I love Beyonce. I get it, she’s Queen Bey. I am as obsessed with her as the next girl—but I found it really excessive that the Internet blew up over her haircut. Guys, it’s a pixie cut—she’s a new mom, new mom’s cut their hair.

 

It’s not the first time we’ve seen her in a pixie cut either—she rocked a wig that looked just like the new haircut. This is not new and it’s certainly not news. I get that we live in a celeb obsessed culture but what is the point? Why do we care that she doesn’t have a weave anymore?

 

I work in entertainment and we covered a haircut. I read comments of people saying they were crying and going to kill themselves over a haircut. It’s not even their hair. It’s not even their friend’s hair. Is our identity really that lost?

 

I’m guilty of it too, I obsess that my hair isn’t shiny and smooth enough, I’m not fashionable enough. Then I have these moments of clarity when I think “enough for what?” What am I trying to do? Of course I’m not on par with Beyonce—I don’t have the money to have my done by professionals every single day.

 

Are we obsessed because we’ll never measure up and we like feeling like less?



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Being Attracted

There are countless reasons to be attracted to someone. A plethora, really. Whatever floats your boat, it is out there and there is probably even dating sites and bar scenes dedicated to it.

Psychologically, we defer to symmetry. The more symmetrical a person’s face is, the more we are supposed to find them attractive. This lack of mathematical flaws makes them more genetically appealing. Then, with this concept of symmetry and beauty, comes the Halo Effect, stating that the more attractive an individual is, the better of a person that others will judge the individual as being with all other traits. Think you are being judged on how you look? You are. Cultural standards also come into play. It all adds up into one swirling and befuddling ball of what constitutes attractiveness.

Who really knows what creates our tastes? Some people have very specific types of individuals that they date. Others apparently like to think outside the box and have no set type at all. I like nerdy boys. I also solemnly swear to never date someone for their resume.

I wonder what makes us tick. How do dating types or even fetishes come about in a person? As our sexualities develop across the lifespan, we are also constantly changing in every other way. Suddenly we discover that bad boys don’t treat us well, or that the porn industry has something to offer, and *BAM* there is a new faucet to your personality and likings.

Other dating related topics we can discuss… deal breakers! I will not date you if you are disrespectful to the waitress or steal her pen. Or if you are a disrespectful person in general. The MTV show Friend Zone makes me want to cry. My heart goes out to every person who has ever tried to bridge that gap. Which is basically all of us. Let us do away with being lumped into categories of people, including datability zones. Youch. Just thinking about trying to confess hidden feelings makes me glad I am a woman. Although there are many negatives to being a female in this world, getting a date is not one of them.



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Openly Gay And Bi Men Are Happier, No One Surprised

I mean, one meaning for “gay” is “happy.” No but seriously.

Researchers at the University of Montreal found that, for gay and bisexual men, “coming out” has actual health benefits, reducing the stress and anxiety that the men in question experience.

You guys, I can totally see this. I was not exactly “closeted” in high school (I mean, you can’t really fool around with a guy at an afterschool club and be like: “What? Interested in guys? A slanderous lie!”). But I wasn’t always honest about it, either. Like, I may have slightly agreed to go to a dance with a female friend of mine who asked me out because I have crippling anxiety, a fear of confrontation, and she was a lovely person and so I wanted to be nice.

Like, remember when Bree Van De Kamp accepted a marriage proposal on Desperate Housewives because she did not want to be rude? Sometimes being polite has its drawbacks.

Anyway, high school was pleasant and so was college. I’m not one for going around and telling everyone that you’re gay or bisexual when you meet them (like you’re a registered sex-offender or something). I kind of expect for friends to figure out that I’m gay the same way that they figure out that I’m white—because it’s obvious. That can sometimes mean that a few people basically have to walk into your dorm room while your All-Hot-Dudes screensaver (I call mine “Mantage,” like a montage, but of men) is up. Or if they ask.

The only time that I will lie about my sexual orientation is if A) it’s an uncomfortable situation (like, one guy says: “gay guys make me uncomfortable,” and another guy says: “No, gay guys are awesome. Hey, Simon, you’re gay, right?” And that is a paraphrased quote from my life (the first guy is very nice and openly has a boyfriend now; don’t worry). Scenario B) is if my family is involved. Because no one does “embarrassing” like my family does.

I mean, now, if my mother meets one of my female friends, she just about always assumes that I am sleeping with the lady in question. This is something that my female friends and I can laugh off—it’s goofy, like getting drunk and making out at a party. I’m not worried about telling my elderly Republican relatives—my eighty-three-year-old Republican grandmother voted for Chaz Bono on Dancing With The Stars because she couldn’t stand the fuss that people made over him being transgender, she voted against Amendment One in our state (an anti-marriage-equality amendment here in North Carolina), and she “secretly” voted for Obama in this past election. It’s just that, literally, my mother would be embarrassing if she officially knew and I would prefer to avoid that. It’s not like I have “relationships” that I hide from her or anyone else. There’s never pressure to tell your family about hook-ups.

That said, I have watched Fashion Police with my mother on multiple occasions, so I would say that she at least suspects.

Am I happier than most people? I would say so. Content, at least. There are people who better exemplify this story. One friend of mine used certain recreational pharmaceuticals as an escape rather than simply for recreation for a while. He came out to his mother and she was not exactly accepting. After she did become supportive, he became much happier and less self-destructive.

So, no one is really surprised, at all, that stopping yourself from living a lie makes you happier. Freeing yourself from that might even let you be happier than people who have never lived a lie. What do you think?



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I’m Sick of Teachers Banging Their Students

I used to work at a content aggregation site, which that means I would sit on the Internet and find lists of things then repurpose them for our site. I’m not proud of it, but every once in a while we’d come up with an original idea and make a list all our own. Surprising, right? Anyway, one day we made a list of the hottest teachers caught sleeping with their students. The list is currently at 51 teachers. I bring this up because yet another young, attractive female teacher has been caught having an affair with one of her high school students. This got me thinking—what the f*#k?
I understand an older male high school teacher, or even an early twenties male high school teacher having some attraction to his students. Let me explain, I do not think it’s okay for high school teachers to hook up with students but I do understand a man in his early twenties having an attraction to high school girls. High school girls look like they’re in their twenties and most men don’t lose attraction when a girl isn’t intellectually on the same level as them. Men would see a young, supple, attractive girl and be sexually aroused that’s normal and biological. Women are a bit more complicated. I cannot understand a grown woman being attracted to a fifteen year old boy—even an eighteen year old boy. Actually, wait. No. That’s not entirely accurate. I can understand being attracted to an eighteen year old boy that you aren’t around for eight hours a day. Models, actors, singers … sure, they’re attractive with their ripped abs and strong Photoshopped jawlines, but most real eighteen year old boys are gross, immature, and annoying. Why would a twenty-three year old woman be attracted to that?

Moreover, why are there fifty-two known cases of women sneaking fifteen to eighteen year old boys into their homes—homes that they sometimes share with a husband—or their cars to have sex with them? Is an eighteen or fifteen year old that good in the sack? From my memory the answer is no, but then again I’ve never slept with a fifteen year old in my entire life. Seventeen and eighteen, I can vouch for, but not fifteen. What is it, anyway? It can’t be the “affair” aspect, because why wouldn’t you choose a co-worker? It must have some deep psychological root that no article has ever discussed. The articles always focus on the ages, the places, the details (oral, DNA on cushions, in the car, in the bed etc) and how attractive the woman is. I think this proves my theory that it’s hard to understand why an attractive woman, capable of getting with a man her own age, would choose a high school boy.

Maybe they had really great high school experiences and want to relieve it, or maybe they had really bad experiences and want to live a different version of it—but how do you reconcile doing that when you’re twenty-three? Or thirty-one? What is the draw? I couldn’t wait to get out of high school and always dated much older boys because the ones in high school were insufferable. My knickers never dropped for a high school boy. In fact I shudder when I think about the guys I did date when I was in high school, if I could wipe that from my history I would. Can some …

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