Oh Professional Sports


Let me start out with a few confessions. First, I am not what some would call "light on my feet;" although I love to dance and greatly enjoy standing in one place trying to find a beat in a hip-hop song without tripping over my own slightly oversized shoes, I am not one to look to for new dance moves. As well, I have not been given an ideal "dancer's body." I would more liken my shape to sturdy and functional. This all being said, I am AMAZED by professional dancers...one of our old family friends is a professional ballerina and even her photo is in a pose that I attempted once before falling over and causing the neighbors to wonder what large object we had just thrown on the floor. See below (And yes, that really is her):



So my following rant is NOT about dancing or the profession of dancing. It is instead, against the defamation of women at professional sporting events and the negative stereotype it propagates. Mark bought us tickets for the Wizards/Bucks game last night at the Verizon Center downtown-a very fun idea for a date. We get there, take our respective seats in the nosebleed section, and buckle in for a long evening watching grown men play a sport. Right now, I would like to take note of the common basketball uniform:

Note: full length shorts, a shirt that covers his entire stomach, AND socks that go up to his knees. From said uniform, we don't know how well endowed he is, or how defined his abs are, we instead, just watch him play basketball.

Ok, thus begins my rant. About halfway through the first half the "Dance Team" came out. I'm not including a picture because I don't think it is appropriate. Just imagine a black bra, black underwear, nylons and black shoes and you're about there. That's it. No short, no room to move, just tightness. Then, they got in two small groups just off each corner of the bball court and proceeded to do a semi-suggestive dance for EVERY musical blip that was played on the system. INCLUDING the organ ones that are like duh-da-da-da-da-da CHARGE! And they did this the WHOLE GAME. And it made me sad.

BECAUSE next to me sat a very cute little girl about four who was there with her dad. And she sees this whole staduim full of people there to watch men play basketball. And the only example of women in this setting that are getting any attention are wearing UNDERWEAR.

I'm not saying that professional sports for women should be made famous, because it is true, watching some men's sports is better than watching women's, but what I am suggesting is that we place women in prominant roles where they exceed because they are GOOD at what they do, NOT because they provide a temporary distraction from reality by their shimmy shimmy moves (if you know what I mean).

I hope I don't sound prudish, because I'm not, I just have seen so many women and girls think that the only way they can acheive merit and get attention from men is by dressing and acting in a way that makes them "objects" before they are seen as of people who are good at what they do.

SO to these girls, I say, you are beautiful and can be watched and admired WITHOUT showing off every part of your body except the ones they blur out in the Victoria's Secret Catalog.

For future costume designs, I would simply refer them to: www.wholesomewear.com (no, this sight is not a joke...they actually sell this stuff). (hahaha....)

Ok. Back to me perfecting my wicked dance moves for the time when the Joeffrey Ballet realizes that I have a future as the company hippo.

A Real Job Someday...


Every morning when I get up, I am faced with the ever difficult decision of what to wear. I'm not a picky girl, so for me, this means I look at the jeans on the floor from last night and see if they are too stretched out to continue wearing, OR if I should just throw on the sweatpants next to my bed. You see, I'm not really "employed" or "working for money" as many such people my age are. I, instead, am STILL in school. In fact, I am not even HALFWAY through my education...cause I am in "continuing" education, which at the moment, basically means I'm in school forever.



Thus said, my day entails.....wake up, drink coffee, fall asleep in at least one out of three lectures, spend VAST amounts of time by myself with no company but my textbooks, check my email 50 gazillion times hoping that one of the spams that I will receive will miraculously actually be something I want to read, check the Facebook and get my daily stalking in, see the latest celebrity fashion gaffs on go fug yourself, plan my bathroom trips to give me a break in the studying, stare out the window at the carefree undergraduates (or if I'm feeling especially bold, stare at the wall in the dank, windowless silent study room of the library...) then eat some lunch, and try to stay focused and awake for the afternoon.

Then I get on the bus with my backpack take it home and walk into our apartment. To check my email, clean up, start to study some more.....



And the crazy thing about this whole day? I am PAYING to do it. SPENDING money to have NO time for friends and sunshine and bees and tennis. Insanity.


Someday, I'll grow up, and not have to take a schoolbus to class, and actually get paid for my work AND when people ask me what is wrong with them I might actually be able to say something helpful....instead of just pointing out that they clearly have rhinitis (i.e. medical jargon for a runny nose).


Someday I will carry a briefcase instead of my old beat up black backpack from senior year of high school.

Someday I will be required to talk to people in my job instead of sitting quietly in a corner with my nose in a book.

Someday I will be REQUIRED to wear real clothes (unless its scrubs) AND have to brush my hair in the morning.

Someday, I won't have to pay to work....ahhh

Someday....

In the mean time, back to studying.....enough procrastinating...