Snooze is a beautiful invention… an endless reminder of our procrastination. A new iOS app is turning those fumbling morning minutes into the chance to donate to charity. Snooze is an alarm clock app for your iPhone, iPod Touch or iPad that pledges $0.25 of your own money to charity every time you hit the snooze button. The app was built by LetGive, a company that combines mobile technology with charitable giving.
After purchasing the app, it allows you to set a desired charity, then it calculates every time your lazy ass hits the snooze button, and turns that sluggish behavior into philanthropic love.
App pays $.25 to charity every time you hit snooze. Literally—when you snooze, you lose. (But others gain so it’s not so bad?)
With much gusto “buzz-cane” Irene made its debut east-coast tour. Garnering raves from the likes of the NY Times (“devastating…”) and CNN (“potentially deadly”), Irene’s pre-debut raves drew an 8.9 from HypeMachine and was dubbed “best new natural disaster” in a week that also included A MOTHER FUCKING EARTHQUAKE.
Now here we are, left to ponder Irene’s shitty almost no-show New York gig.
One nightmare after another: In 2008, a seventh grade special-ed student in Missouri told school administrators that she’d been raped by one of her classmates. Rather than fulfilling its legal obligation to report the incident to authorities, the school accused the girl of lying, made her write and hand-deliver an apology to her accused rapist, expelled her for the rest of the year, and referred her to juvenile authorities for filing a “false report.” When she returned to school in 2010, the same boy raped her again. School administrators once again brushed the girl aside, but a medical examination backed up her allegations, and the boy pled guilty in juvenile court. Now, the Republic School District, along with four specifically-named members of the administration, is being sued. There really are no words for something like this. source
5. A MIU MIU DRESS (not yet available online) $2800
(according to the article: priced at around $1,900 for the long-sleeved gray wool dress, with $900 for the cummerbund hip wrap.)
Total for the must-haves: $6430. And this does not include fall’s essential hand bag!
I’m not saying anything about fashion or originality or paying people for their work—high fashion is expensive and design is a talent and a skill.
What I’m saying is, maybe we should reassess how we use the word “need.” I can’t help but think about our national debt and the arguments about how to save money and spend money when I think about spending money on new …anything.
Not much in it about the book world, but it did cause me to flash back to a moment at a book conference earlier in the year at which there was a panel called “Making Nonfiction Sexy.” Also, the confusion and then, anger, I felt as a result. Because why on earth does nonfiction need to be sexy? Why should we want that? By what definition of the word sexy can a genre even be defined as such? It’s ridiculous.
You know? I feel like everything else in the whole world wants to be sexy, and wants me to be sexy, all the time, and it would be nice if there was one goddamn thing that wasn’t sexy, and I feel like the shelves with the presidential biographies would be a fantastic fucking place to start.
Every time a woman suggests that what books need is to be sexier, I wonder why she isn’t as tired as I am of everything being sexy. Doesn’t she want a break from the madness as much as I do?
And every time a man* suggests that books should be sexier, I think, hey, dude, everything is already being geared to be sexy for you. Take your boner and go look at all of the advertising on the television instead. Keep that thing away from my books.
You know what else? Sexy is the lowest common denominator. Sexy is what advertising agencies do when they can’t think of anything clever. I think books can do a little better than that.
(This post brought to you by my extreme frustration with the game of cricket.)
*straight man, I guess. If there were more commercials on geared towards gay men I wouldn’t have written this at all and instead would be on YouTube a lot
Being sexy all the time is exhausting. Also, who’s to say what’s sexy? For some, a girl in sweatpants reading a presidential biography is pretty damn hot. Maybe we should change our definition of what is sexy instead of changing the world to fit that narrow stupid boring outdated everything-that-makes-me-roll-my-eyes definition, hm? Cool, glad we had this chat.
Also, getting back to the original article… as someone who has friends in, and is heavily promoting, Epic Win Burlesque: The Star Debate Trek VS Wars, I think the article about geek-girls and cosplay (and ensuing commentary) is fuckin fascinating. And it made me think about whether I think the women in the show are pandering to fandoms/geek-boys, etc. I really dont think so. The women I know in the show created their costumes and acts based on their own interests and geekdom (save for a couple who just aren’t starwars/startrek peeps but that’s ok too!). I don’t think the aim of Epic Win is to pander to geekdoms, in general, although the nerds definitely come out to the shows. I believe that by establishing a positive nerd-friendly space where women (and a couple dudes but mostly women) can creatively express themselves and their perhaps off-center love for the “uncool”, EW Burlesque make women more than sexy objects in recognizable-but-sexified costumes. There’s not that much of that at all. The message, to me, is, “look at what this person did with this idea to make it her own” NOT “look at how sexy this person is in this costume.” Sure, the sexiness is there. And that’s awesome. But how one gets from A to Sexy is interesting. And it fits with my feminism.
I just backed this project to turn an empty lot in greenpoint into a garden! The project needs to be funded by tomorrow at noon and they only have $3K left to raise—if you’re in favor of gardens and green space over another half-empty high-rise, please donate! I’m unemployed and I gave; it’s a worth cause and I would much rather look at a garden than hear jackhammers and other sounds of wasted construction.
Just posted my first task to TaskRabbit… all part of project: Grownup Apartment. Also known as, stuff I’m getting around to now because I’m (f)unemployed and have the time for it. Also also known as, Project Clean Out the Apartment for Realsies This Time.
(lolz I’ve used the tag “grownup shit” before. truth)
A part time position for an individual with three or more years of digital editing, interview logging, and other radio production experience to join the staff of the very popular, Philadelphia-based Fresh Air. Strong research and writing skills are necessary, as well as an awareness of a wide-range of issues, including arts, popular culture and literature. Strong communication skills, both verbal and written, the ability to write broadcast and edit broadcast copy and the ability to concentrate and perform digital editing functions for extended periods of time are all necessary skills/requirements to succeed in this position. Interested individuals should include two relevant writing samples with their resume and cover letter. 7/25/11
Oh man. I wish I had the experience to be considered for this. Might apply anyway…but…it’s in philly. And I heart NY. And…I have done the 2-hour each-way commute to work at NPR HQ and I really don’t know if I could do it again.
Raised in Kansas, I’m no stranger to anti-sex religious groups. It usually goes like this: the girls are told that because the boys can’t help themselves, they, as females, are responsible for being the gatekeepers, for not being “stumbling blocks” that bring boys into sin. You know, because teenage boys need A LOT of help finding material that makes them think about sex.
And the boys? They’re told, of course, that they shouldn’t have sex, but also that they shouldn’t masturbate. Because that’s healthy, right, offering no source of release for raging adolescent hormones. (For reals, I knew guys in high school who sat around with their all-male bible study groups each week talking about how damn difficult it was not to masturbate.)
The message to girls is dressed up as female empowerment—-YOU get to control THE SEX (or, preferably, the lack thereof)—-but it sets girls up for failure and for the feeling that they are somehow responsible for other people’s sexual choices. The real message is “You are responsible for keeping boys from even thinking about sex, and when the boys (inevitably) fail, it will be, at least partially, your fault.”
And it usually comes wrapped up in assumptions (broadcasted to the group, natch) that girls are less sexual than boys are, so they don’t have to try quite as hard to not think about or want sex. And of course—-OF COURSE!—-they don’t want to touch themselves. Penises? Those are irresistible, even to their owners, and it is NOT EASY to be a boy who doesn’t stroke his own wookie. But lady parts? Who would want to touch those?! Certainly not the girls who have them. No way.
But, you know, just in case a few Christian young women get the idea that maybe they should push their own buttons, THEY MUST BE STOPPED. Oh, and they must be told they are DIRTY. Because they didn’t get enough of that back when you were telling them it’s their fault that teenage boys masturbate.
Oh, and did I mention that Dirty Girls Ministries is based in my hometown of Lenexa, KS? Jesus, I’ve never been prouder.
Was really hoping something called “Dirty Girls Ministries” would be…fun? Why would someone trying to get “clean” (whatever they believe clean means) join something called dirty? BAD group name!
Also, most of the women joining the ministries are teenagers and preteens. Who, while learning that sexual desire is bad, are also learning that homosexuality is bad, and basically anything fun ever is bad bad bad. Breaks my heart.
For a religion that’s allegedly founded on love…its believers spend an awful lot of time teaching us how to hate our god-given bodies and our natural desires. I know some folks pride themselves on being overburdened with guilt but…really?
“Ke$ha’s brand of partying stands apart from that of so many other pleasure-minded pop stars because of its unabashed recklessness; she does not give a shit about your VIP areas or your bottle service orders or what other D-listers might be waiting in the wings as long as she can have a good time, and maybe get some Jack Daniels with which to brush her teeth when all’s said and done.”—
can anyone actually vouch for Ke$$$ha’s partying? I think the girl’s completely full of $hit. Unclear whether she’s in on the joke or not… but she sounds like a completely contrived “bad girl” and comparisons to Kathleen Hanna and Alanis Morrissette are not going to save someone who says “mangina” and tells a dude to “grow a pear” (BritBrit might like that, as it’s kinda like “If You Seek Amy”). Kathleen Hanna eats psuedo-punks like Ke$ha for a snack when she’s on a diet.
If being covered in glitter is your idea of partying…you’re either Ke$ha or celebrating your fifth birthday.
wish i could push past it and get to the productivity, as i know that would help shake out the sad. back to being super blocked when it comes to writing even though i have ideas. all sorts of ideas!
i miss having people to bat ideas around with.
you can always hit me up for idea-batting if you like! I’m trying to fight the stuck-inside don-wanna-apply-for-jobs-but-I-should-cuz-unemployment-is-practically-nothing sads. and I miss my editing job so I’m looking for that kinda stuff.
My advice, which I never take… is take a break and work on something else. write something else, or draw, or cook—another creative medium to get your right brain feeling more confident and let things percolate. or marinate. or whatever wait-n-see metaphor you prefer. I say I never take this advice because I’m bad at getting back to things after I take a break. and I haven’t done serious writing for myself in a while.
Ms. Quispe, an Ecuadorean immigrant who came to New York at age 9, was determined to get the curves that would make her look more feminine. But she lacked health insurance or the money to pay for surgical procedures that would provide them; they can cost as much as $70,000. So she tried something else: she went to a so-called pumper, a person who illegally injects silicone to modify the body.
Ms. Quispe was ecstatic with the results. Photos propped up on her desk depict a glowing young woman swathed in colorful dresses to showcase her new hourglass figure. Ms. Quispe smiled at the youthful images of herself surrounded by friends.
She has paid a heavy price for her joy. In time, the silicone in her body calcified and began to migrate, causing her a seemingly endless series of hospitalizations. At the beginning of July, she was hospitalized for an infection. Her body has been left scarred and misshapen. The skin on her buttocks and legs is discolored, and a lump of hardened silicone the size of a golf ball hangs behind her left knee.