The height requirements for tryouts are now 5'7'' and under. My sister is trying out Saturday morning and wants me to join her. I've always entertained the idea, but never did for many reasons.
1. My nagging feminist brain only RECENTLY began to understand that virtually anything can be taken on with a feminist perspective, even modeling.
2. I'm 5'5'' and 130-135 pounds off and on.
3. I have a pair of impressive, though unconventional DD boobz that prevent me from
It's a gay club with a drag show and other such awesome things, but there will be many people there.
To have or not to have a panic attack this evening. That is the question.
It's one of those parties where I will no doubt be the only female not dressed as a "sexy"-something.
I could go s a sexy Dr. Who, but the joke would be lost a thousand times over and nothing is more lonely and isolating than having to explain an awesomely nerdy idea to people who wouldn't get it in a million years.
I opted out. Cleaning
I think it went okay.
I mean, yes. It went okay. I'm always so goddamned paranoid that maybe I'll THINK things went okay, when they really didn't, I acted a complete knob, and PSYCHE--joke's on me!
Though I admit I might feel extra insecure about this since I planned the thing. I suggested our club carpool to see Religulous, they agreed, and I set it up. Then we went. On top of the fact that coming out of that sort of strongly-messaged movie is always awkward anyway--everyone
I've managed to avoid this fact for nearly 22 years now, save the obvious anatomical clues. When I was 3, I would often opt for playing in the mud, or watching dinosaur documentaries, rather than play dress up or tea party. I spent my Halloweens as something creative, as opposed to princessing it up year after year, like so many of my girlfriends did.
In elementary school, while most other girls invested all of their time and energy into Nsync or Backstreet Boys, my friends and I