Monthly Archives: April 2011

My Would-Be Harem

This morning’s Royal nuptials elicited several thoughts and emotions from me. I was interested in the festivities because I am of course, a woman, but there was a bittersweetness to it as well. When I was 12 and 13 years old I honestly thought that I would marry Prince William (or Wills, as I affectionately called him) one day. Short of a homicide and/or cleverly planned adultery ruse I doubt that will be happening in my lifetime. I suppose I should be grateful, since Wills looks a lot more like his dad these days…I give you, the Wills I loved:

And the one I’m ok with letting go:

After coming to terms with the reality that I will never be Princess Bettie I started thinking about all of the other boys I swore I would marry one day. I’m not sure if I planned to divorce a lot or slide in on the fun side of the law with multiples but I sure had a TON of future husbands in my pre-teen and early teen years.

For your enjoyment, I give you: My past future husbands

Corey Haim. The better looking of the famed ’80s “Coreys” was one of my first loves. He dazzled me in The Lost Boys and then faded from my life during the ’90s. News of his death was terrible, but I honestly thought it had happened much earlier. I mean…look at him late in his life:

I’m not sure how drug abuse makes your eyes crooked…but he apparently found a way!

To ease my transition away from the Coreys, I focused my attention on the New Kids on the Block. Most specifically (and most dear to my heart) was little Joe Mac. Joseph McIntyre for those who are unfamiliar with the curly-headed wonder.

He was adorable, and is no less so now (which is probably why I hate his wife and child so much…they ruined my chances!) Feast your eyes on THIS:

Dominating my movie choices and taking up residence (in poster form) on the underside of my desk in early elementary school were Andrew Keegan, Devon Sawa and Jonathon Taylor Thomas (JTT). I must have rewound the “towel scene” from Now and Then a billion times, and I know I’m not the only one!

I’m concerned about the speedo on Devon, but other than that…good looking kids! You can see why I was smitten. Obviously.

They’re not even too bad now, actually:

Some have wrinkled, some got amazingly gorgeous and some look a lot like Jon Bon Jovi.

My television experience was all about Boy Meets World and Growing Pains. Leonardo DiCaprio and Rider Strong rocked my pre-teen world! Looking back, they epitomized the ’90s and my affinity for that particular hairstyle.

We all know what Leo looks like now (basically the same. That man never ages. In fact, I’m pretty sure he was 25 in the above picture…) but who’s seen Rider Strong in the last ten years? Ladies, prepare yourselves for a fe-boner:

Yeah. I know. I warned you.

Musically, my taste tended to stick with only boybands. I did enjoy groups who pretended they weren’t boybands because they were black, but still…boybands. I LOVED Marques Housten from Immature and Shawn Stockman from Boyz II Men. Of course, I was also obsessed with Nick Carter and Justin Timberlake (but I still am…so I don’t feel it is right to include them in my “would-be” category. There’s still hope!) Here’s the chocolate love I wanted before I really understood what that connotes:

Shawn Stockman was fully clothed in all of his pictures…so I chose simply to show you little Marques vs. the Marques I’d STILL drive around the block. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Well readers, as you can see I had quite the imagination when I was younger. Most of that imagination (sick or otherwise) has stuck with me throughout the years and I still fully intend to marry someone famous. Or at least “snog” one. Looking back though, many of the boys I swore I’d marry resembled pretty girls more so than hot guys. Especially this one:

I was recently reassured that he is indeed a man, however, when I saw Hanson in concert and Taylor looked like this:

Oh yeah. It almost makes me ok with the fact that he has a wife of many years and a gaggle of kids. Sick.

That’s it blogosphere, that’s my little trip down memory lane and bigamy. I hope you enjoyed yourselves!

Oh Brother!

As I sat in my office listening to the antics of a particular co-worker a thought occurred to me: Was I coddled because I didn’t have a “live-in” brother growing up?

As a kid, I was always so baffled by the behavior some of my friends would put up with from their brothers. On long car rides a certain friend would simply sit there and let her brother override everything we wanted to listen to on the radio for his offensive and repulsive choices. Other friends over the years have appalled me by accepting the incessant grossness, rudeness and just plain ridiculosity of their male siblings and I always just watched with my mouth agape. I couldn’t even imagine having to live a life surrounded by disgusting boys with a sense of entitlement, hell-bent on making my life miserable.

Now, however, I can’t help but think that if I was conditioned at an early age to “deal with” adolescent boys and their primate-like behavior, I’d be better equipped and less irritable when faced with those who haven’t figured out how to grow up. The co-worker who helped me open this blog is in his late 30’s but seems to have all the personality traits of a 13-year-old boy. He needs attention constantly and apparently prefers to get it by using the age-old tricks of middle school. He mocks, picks on and just plain annoys anyone he comes in contact with and doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with that behavior. He is constantly humming, making strange noises or obnoxiously swinging his legs, tapping his feet, snapping or clapping. I don’t think I can take much more. I am honestly about to snap! (No, not my fingers…)

With that being said, if I go missing for an extended period of time I beg you, dear readers, check for my mug shot because it means I have given in to my urges and stabbed him in the temple. I’ll need bail money as well so maybe you should all start putting a little away each…hour. I was going to say days, but at the rate everything is going today it might not take that long.

In closing I’d like to tell all men, as cliché as it sounds, please just leave us alone for this one week a month! Please!  For your own safety and my sanity. Just stop it! Or I’m telling.

Letting Loose with the Lesbian Legion

Alliteration makes me smile and I assume you all too, by extension. You’re welcome.

This semester is drawing to a close and I’m staring down the barrel of a week and a half of insane homework, studying, researching and paper-writing. In order to properly signify the period in between being deathly ill and dead to the world, I decided I needed to sing some karaoke. I had just gotten done delivering a presentation on Participatory Journalism (which I happen to know a thing or two about…ahem…<this blog>) so I felt a beer or two was also in order. The only snafu in that plan was that I only have two types of friends at present: my oldest and dearest who are all at the appropriate stages of their lives and can’t leave husbands/babies to go out at night or friends I make in my classes who are young and free, yet in the same crazed homework boat as I find myself.

With nobody available to join me in my quest for social lubrication I was almost resigned to going home after class. That is, until I remembered a friend who is ALWAYS at the bar near my house for karaoke-Wednesdays. It was perfect. I popped in to meet her and all of her wonderful friends who welcomed me with open arms (arms that would later flail to the sweet sounds of Tina Turner).

If you’ve never spent an evening with a legion of lesbians I highly recommend it. The dynamic is entirely different in a crowd devoid of male genitalia and ego. We danced to an endless stream of guilty pleasure songs (including one by Aaron Carter that I wasn’t ashamed to admit knowing word-for-word) and rapped like Eminem was going out of style (foreshadowing…?). We exchanged suggestions of just how much violence we’d put up with from Chris Brown if we were to get intimate with him, we did choreographed dances to 90’s boybands (my bliss) and drank disgusting beer directly from the pitchers. It was exactly the carefree evening I needed after facing the firing squad in my Journalism class. Pat Benetar and the lovely legion of lesbians set me free. I just might make that a weekly occurrance.

Was it smart of me to spend another night avoiding sleep so soon after being on my deathbed? No. Was it the best decision I’ve made all week? Obviously.

Return to Normalcy: Pending

I have been completely discombobulated since acquiring a delicious flu “bug” last week. No worries, I am alive and presumably well as of this morning. It was touch and go there for a while, but it seems I will make a full recovery. I know you were all pacing your various rooms, waiting for another blog. Rest easy…I’m back and in strange effect!

This morning I dared drink my first cup of coffee since visiting with the dreaded Influenza all week. My normally caffeine-crazed bloodstream had been without for a week and that one cup of weak “office coffee” sent me all abuzz. With my newfound artificial energy I was able to sail through the day and even participate actively in class discussion after work. After class, however, the energy waned. I was crashing and still had a paper to write before midnight. Knowing that I can’t be trusted to my own devices whilst TV and my favorite faux-fleece blanket are around, I headed to my favorite coffee shop for some more caffeine and less distraction. As if on some sort of addict’s errand I ordered a large coffee at 9:30 pm. I drank every last drop while pounding out a beautifully woven, albeit completely bullshit paper on Othello, and by the time I hit “submit” right on the cusp of midnight I was once again, all abuzz. Silly me, I must have forgotten that I was now “post-flu Bettie” and no longer the hardened coffee-immune version of myself.

As if it needs to be pointed out, it is now 2:18 am; I am sitting in the dark with the faux-fleece blanket of previous paragraph fame, banging out a blog of all the random things sprinting through my brain while I was laying in bed, desperately trying to fake myself asleep.

Little nugget of randomness 1:

My first instinct when I realized sleep was not on the menu was to get up and eat something. This sounds like a fat girl thing to do (and I’d be inclined to agree) but I hadn’t eaten anything save for a few crackers all week. (Post-flu Bettie doesn’t remember how to digest things). My house never has matching food. I am not home to eat regular meals here, so whatever is in my refrigerator at any given time is going to be leftover pieces of things once eaten. For instance, I ate one cob of corn and some chips and homemade guacamole. Strange, but it hit the early morning spot.

Little nugget of randomness 1.5:

When I decided to give up on the sleep again and up my middle-of-the-night productivity level, the first article I saw on my homepage was: “4 Foods to NEVER Eat” with a giant picture of corn-on-the-cob. I wasn’t interested enough to read the article, but I did stop and silently curse my sleep-deprived, post-flu nosh decision before settling in to type this very drivel.

LNoR 2:

I’m 96% sure that in the middle of class tonight I agreed to co-write a play based on the concept of many various Shakespearean characters in a modern-day Reality Television setting. Patent pending. It sounds hilarious. Don’t steal it or I’ll blog about you behind your back.

At this point I don’t even know if the words I’m typing are real or made up. It’s 2:32 am and I have to be to work in approximately 5 and a half hours. I guess I’ll pack it in and take one more pathetic jab at the hay. (Get it? Hit the hay…but I’m not doing a good job…post-flu Bettie is silly.)

An Open Letter to My Bladder

Dearest Bladder,

Let me start by saying that you and I have had a long life together. We’ve been through a lot, you and I. I’ll admit that though things started off rough with the once-upon-a-dreams that assured me I was safely in the bathroom, lately it has been I who throws the first stone. I just feel that it’s only right for me to fight back, and I don’t think you’re taking it very graciously.

If I’m being completely honest, (and I think we owe each other that much) I don’t feel as if I’m being unreasonable. We had some good times in the past. Your inability to hold caffeine has brought me many much-needed breaks from the computer but lately, you’re taking it too far. I’m afraid you’ve become a bit of a whiner.

Please understand that I need caffeine throughout the day. I need it to survive and to be effective at my job and at school. Your incessant nagging has begun to get me odd looks and inquiries about your health. If you don’t get a hold of yourself and learn to cope with my new relationship with Caffeine, I fear that pregnancy rumors are on the horizon. Do you want that? I certainly don’t want to field those questions (although, it would put the lesbian rumors to rest for a bit).

In closing, bladder, I would really appreciate if you could toughen up. Just be courteous of me and of your neighbors and I think we can get through this rough patch. I think if you really put forth an effort, you and caffeine can learn to love each other.

My fondest affections,


A Little Behind

For those of you who saw the title and thought I meant a tush…you are sadly mistaken (and clearly have no idea what I look like). What I mean is that I’m always a little behind on Pop Culture these days. I used to pride myself on being on the forefront of celeb gossip and hot trends (because let’s be honest, what else is there?), but lately it seems as if the best I can do is desperately clamor for the scraps of pop culture floating around on Facebook.

Last week my FB newsfeed was peppered with statuses about Bo Burnham. I gathered from my classmates that he would be making an appearance at GVSU, but I had no idea who he was. I assumed it was a singer/songwriter that I didn’t care about (John Mayer or bust) or an ex-American Idol contestant I had long since forgotten about (wasn’t there a Bo?). On Friday night after working for hours to turn in a paper I had procrastinated on for months, I decided to reward myself with a little TV before bed. I browsed Comedy Central on Demand and came across a stand-up special for none other than Bo Burnham.

I love stand-up comedy so I decided to check it out and see what all the fuss was about. Here’s where the problem with a lagging sense of what’s “in” lies:

Now I’m obsessed with Bo Burnham and everyone else is “so over it”. He was already at GVSU so the hype has died down. I want to talk about his genius! I love everything about him. He is smart, adorable and his jokes include subject matter that makes me feel superior to others when I understand it. Those are my favorite types of comedians (favorite people in general, really…I mean…I really like feeling superior). I’m in awe of this kid’s genius and comedic timing. By the time he was born I was already standing atop my mom’s coffee table singing every word of “Please Don’t Go Girl” and my comic sensibility barely even pales in comparison to Bo’s. He is the Justin Bieber of Comedy. I say that not as a tongue-in-cheek comment about either one, but as a compliment to both. They are both adorable and too young for me to seriously look at, they were both discovered as a result of Youtube fame and they are both successful beyond their years.

If anyone is like me and way too far behind on the times, I highly suggest you check out Bo Burnham’s “Words Words Words” on Comedy Central (Or Youtube). And if you haven’t heard of Bieber…I really don’t know how to help you.