I Swear, It's for a Friend.

So, I'm at work printing out a travel reservation for this week. I walk over to the printer and my reservation didn't make it, but I see that I have another print job -- sitting alone on the counter next to the printer -- that someone set aside for me.

All of our print jobs come out with cover sheets featuring our name in big type. But the one I found this morning wasn't my travel confirmation. It was this article, which I linked to for work purposes on Friday and apparently printed out by mistake.

The headline type on the printout was big and bold, right there with my username. So that now it appears to my coworkers I needed to print out this article specially for closer reading. Ugh.

Music: "Fitter Happier"

No Thanks.

I was enjoying a nice, quiet evening checking out Diary of a Mad Black Woman on BET when this nonsense came upon my screen.

Let me just start by saying that I hate "real women" advertising. If I wanted to look like a "real woman," I wouldn't be interested in your product. I know it's not politically correct to say, but I prefer fashion models (or at least I do when they are allowed to still look human).

I also think an attempt by a company (you too, Dove) to sell products to women by using regular-looking people, pretending to buck the beauty myth while putting jarring, publicity-generating pictures of half-naked plus-size women everywhere including bus stops, is just as (if not more) full of crap as an attempt to sell using a fantasy.

I don't want to be "friends" with my commercial. When the lady on the screen talks about her "girls being happy," I don't nod knowingly and smile. I wince and wonder why she has to be so goofy. Please don't talk to me about your big boobs and how men can't take their eyes off them and stuff. It is not going to make me want to buy the bra you have on. It is going to make me want to change the channel in embarrassment.

Girlfriend... OK?

Music: "Video"

Lessons I Can't Seem to Learn.

People can act one way to your face and another behind your back.

Your body knows better than your mind does.

It's never worth clicking on pictures of Lady Gaga.

You will never be glad you stayed up watching Intervention instead of going to bed.

Tortilla chips. God help me. Tortilla chips.

Your job does not define your self-worth.

Magazines are less fulfilling than books.

If the meat seems undercooked, it probably is.

Anyone care to add?

Music: "Learning to Fly"